#or the gates to hell opening up in the sky

[thewingedgoat]

So uh- there's a wildfire happening right next to my house rn

Don't worry I'm safe but-yeah-kinda scared it'll spread further

[the-hidden-pages]

Kinktober Day 1 - 'Love' Bites | Overstimulation - Astarion x Fem!Reader

Love bites | Overstimulation | Impact play

Coming out the gates strong with 3500+ words for this man. It has not been edited, I have work in the morning, I'm going to bed.

Summary: With the promise of taking you to a quiet little piece of nowhere to forget all the madness of the adventure, Astarion pulls out all the stops to ensure you forget everything, except the pleasure he gives you.

Warnings: NSFW, Blood, Vampire Kink, Overstimulation, Crying, Light Choking, Dirty Talk

You and Astarion had always had an arrangement.

To say you bonded quickly with your party would be an understatement - having the tadpole within your mind and surviving the same crash tends to form that immediate trauma bond. But you and the vampire had formed a deeper understanding of each other much sooner than the others.

That night, so early on in your adventure, when you awoke to the man perched over you, fangs bared and your throat exposed for the taking, things simply couldn’t go back to the status quo.

It fogged your mind the entirety of the next day, the proximity, the adrenaline, the pure, undiluted hunger.

You’ve allowed him to feed from you every night since.

You played it off as trust, at first. Trust in him, a want to have him fully strengthened for battle. Nothing but business.

But it didn’t take long for him to understand your underlying motivation, the reason you allowed yourself to feel drained, exhausted, and weak for each battle moving forward, perpetually distracted by the memory of his lips and teeth at your neck. The memory welcomed the fantasies with open arms, fantasies of his hands wandering as he drank, kissing your lips with your own blood on his own, his fangs sinking into your thighs, before wandering higher…

Still, you were never going to force it. 

So, you allowed him to continue to drink, both aware of the growing tension, both refusing to move further.

Until that changed.

When Astarion came to you, offering for you both to find a “little piece of nowhere”, somewhere to “forget all this madness”, you sure as hell weren’t about to decline.

A chance to get him out of your head was exactly what you needed to think clearly.

Night had long since fallen, as you sat pretending to read one of many absurd tomes Gale had collected throughout the journey. A life of adventuring doesn’t make for the most consistent sleep schedule, and as such awaiting for the entire party to call it a night was practically torment as you tried to ignore the growing heat between your legs.

But no amount of pretending to study the Oral Histories of Faerun could distract you from wondering what pleasures tonight would bring.

When finally, finally, Karlach decided to call it a night, you waited a few moments more before creeping off to where Astarion had told you to meet him.

Any other night it may have been eerie, creeping through the woods unarmed  as the moon rose high in the sky. But all you could feel was the anticipation growing, humming in every nerve of your body like someone had struck you with a Witch Bolt.

Your heart nearly stopped as movement caught your eye.

There, emerging from the trees, already shirtless, was the vampire.

You had seen him in various states of undress before - curing wounds of various weapons and spells will do that. But there was something different about it in this circumstance, seeing him perfectly unscathed, strong and confident from the weeks of draining your life from your veins, silver hair and pale skin hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight.

“There you are,” he spoke lowly, striding slowly towards you. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

While the words themselves made you blush, you couldn’t help comment.

“The moment you set eyes on me you had a knife to my throat.”

“Ah,” he sighed, walking slowly around you, bringing his fingers to lightly trail up your arm. “But if you remember, I did notice then and there what a darling neck you had, I just knew it would be heavenly.”

He closed the distance between you, and you could promptly feel his strong form cold against your back, a prominent bulge pressing into you, and his breath on your neck making you lightheaded.

His hand trailed down your neck to trace the marks he had been leaving nightly. “And I was right.”

Despite how little he had done, you had grown so wound up from the endless fantasies from his nights of feeding that you were already weak in the knees.

His left hand lightly began to caress your thigh, as his right takes to untying the strings of your loose shirt, his mouth never stopping.

“You’ve been so helpful these last few weeks darling, allowing me for the first time to indulge in the blood of a human, giving me strength at your expense. You’ve been so good for me too, holding back all those little sounds you’ve been wanting to make, pretending like you don’t get wet just at the thought of me drinking from you, like you don’t get soaked from the moment my lips touch your neck. Hmm?”

Your breathing was already heavy, your thighs already squeezing together in some attempt for stimulation - it was already too much. All you could do was nod, a breathy “yes” escaping you as your shirt is undone, falling to the forest floor.

His hands begin to explore, lightly tracing up your arms, down your stomach, across your collarbone. “And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you my love? To keep us alive, to keep us all going. You’ve been so helpful to all of us, to me, I think it’s time I take some weight off of those pretty little shoulders.”

Suddenly, forcefully, he spins you around, steadying you by grabbing your hips. You look into the red eyes that gaze at you intently, with an emotion that is so close to something like love, devotion, but feeling just slightly too forced, slightly too uncanny.

That gaze is a problem for another day, you determine, as he sinks to his knees and gazes up at you, untying your trousers.

After all, the love may not be real, but the lust in his eyes sure as hell is.

He makes slow work of the fabric, speaking up at you the entire time.

“Dearest, I intend to do exactly as I promised. I want to repay you for the kindness you’ve given me, the trust you’ve placed in me. Allow me to please you, to make you forget about everything, if only for a night. Will you allow me this?”

You nodded, mutely, as you stepped out of your pants.

He gazed up at you again, eyes drinking you in, darkening as they travel up your body, stopping at between your legs, your chest, your neck.

When his eyes met yours again, he stood up quickly, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a deep kiss.

You had thought about this moment too often.

What he would taste like, how his fangs would feel against your tongue, how his lips would feel against yours. He pulled you into him desperately, and the sensation of your bare chest against his made your head spin, gasping into the kiss as he took full control, kissing you with such a passion that you might have thought there was more to it than a simple need for release, repayment.

He pulled away all too soon, thumb caressing your lower lip as he gazed at you in that absurdly sultry way of his.

“Before I take your breath away,” he breathed out, pausing to kiss your cheek. “I need to know what you want from me darling.” Another pause, a kiss to the jaw now. “Tell me how to please you.” A kiss behind the ear. “Tell me how to make you scream.”

You were barely keeping it together, eyes already fluttering closed.

A sharp bite to the neck, not enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp, brought you out of it. His red eyes gazed at you intently, awaiting your response.

“I want you to take control,” you speak, feeling as though you’re giving a confession. “I don’t want to think. I want you to drain me of my blood, of my thoughts. Make me cum, make me scream, make me feel so good it hurts, until I’m begging you to stop, Astarion.”

“Oh, darling,” he nearly growled, his hand caressing your cheek. “I'll do just that.”

He spun you again, once again catching you off guard. Within moments, you feel him press up against you again, this time the hardness of his cock being released from his pants, discarded far into the forest you assumed. 

“You mustn’t keep a sound from me, by the way,” he spoke lightly. “I’ll know if you do.”

You aren’t allowed much time to consider that as you feel his lips on your neck, pecking and lightly biting and sucking. His hands trail upwards to cup your breasts, slowly, softly, deeply massaging, as though he’s trying to feel every inch of your skin. His fingers lightly pinch and tug against your peaks, and he leaves soft bites on your neck, never enough to break the skin.

It had only been moments, but you’re whining, and you can feel your wetness dripping down your thigh.

“Astarion, please,” you breathe, hand coming up to lace in his hair in an attempt to force him deeper into your neck.

He just laughed. “Darling I’ve barely touched you and you’re begging. Allow me to take my time with you.”

His left hand stays at your breast as his right once again wanders downward, slowly reaching your inner thigh.

“I can smell it, you know,” he muttered lowly in your ear, and you almost squeak, flushed with embarrassment. “Every time you’re so wet you can barely think, stuck in your little fantasies as I drink from you. You do so well, hiding your wants from me, but I’ve always known, and I’ve always wanted to push it further, to let my hand wander between your pretty little legs and feel just how wet for me you are…”

As he takes a pause, his fingers reach your folds, lightly caressing up and down, circling your clit, and you both sigh.

“Astarion…”

“Hells, you want me so badly don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Oh, I’m not here to deny you, angel. I’ll give you everything you want…”

Without warning, two of his slender, delightfully long digits enter you, and you release a moan louder than you expected.

“Very good,” he praised, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, as he resumed his work on your neck. He continued to suck and bite, no doubt leaving a myriad of bruises and marks that you would have to explain away tomorrow.

He growls again, biting a little harder, though still not hard enough to draw any blood, you notice. His fingers within you speed up, spreading in a way that has you choking out another moan.

“I can hear you thinking, darling. That’s not what we want now, is it?”

“No - fuck, there,” you moan deeper, head tilting back as his fingers reach a place in you that is forever out of your reach.

“Oh, good girl,” he purrs, focusing on that one spot. “Good girl, telling me what you want. Focus on your body, darling, not your thoughts. Feel me against you, feel me in you, feel how badly you need that release.”

“Astarion please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Bite me harder.”

“Oh, not yet my sweet. We have all night for that, and I would quite like to sample the nectar between your thighs before tasting your heavenly blood. But I’ve left such a wonderful piece of work on your neck, now everyone at the camp will know now more than ever that you’re mine.”

“Fuck,” you gasp out, feeling the waves of heat overcome you and your thighs begin to collapse, your release hitting hard and fast at his use of possessive language.

“Very good, darling,” he praised, holding you up as your vision spun. His fingers didn’t cease as you came, immediately riling you back up, moans spilling out of you louder than before. You hadn’t noticed when he had added a third finger, but you felt the stretch as he pushed in, the emptiness when he pulled out.

You needed more, and he was clearly eager to give it to you.

“Lie down, my darling,” he whispered in your ear. “Allow me to worship you further.”

You did so without hesitation, resting back on a relatively flat portion of the forest floor, spreading your legs as Astarion knelt down, bringing your legs up on to his shoulders and staring down hungrily at you.

Despite the ferocity in his eyes, he took his time, kissing from your ankle to your thigh on your left leg, and then your right. The moment you felt your frustration grow to a peak, he bit down, once again leaving marks but never breaking the skin, marking the soft flesh of your thigh.

He teased you for a few moments before the impatience struck him as well, and leaned forward further, licking a long stripe up your folds.

“Oh darling, and I thought your blood was heavenly,” he breathed, and before you could respond, he went to work.

Immediately your hands were in his hair, pulling and pushing in some attempt to regain any sort of sanity in this moment. His tongue worked wonders, knowing exactly how to work inside you before retreating, teasing at your clit, before the vicious cycle repeated. His hands clenched your thighs as though they were a life line, and the moans that left him traveled into the depths of your core.

It didn’t take long, you were already falling over the edge again, now shouting as the pleasure grew blinding.

“I could stay here forever,” you could barely hear him lament, mind fogged. You blinked blearily as you focused on his face that was now above yours, glistening with your release as he grinned ferally, hand briefly coming up to clench at your throat. “But I have more planned for you.”

Despite your exhaustion, you feel the warmth in your core grow, another release of slick as his cock presses up against your folds.

“May I, pet?”

All you can do is moan pathetically, something between “yes” and “please” falling out of you as you weakly nod.

“Darling, you’re a vision,” once again, he strokes your cheek, uncharacteristically loving for the cold vampire. “Completely fucked out, and we haven’t even arrived at the main course.”

With that, you feel him enter you, no resistance give how worked up you are.

You take a moment, joined, as he breathes heavily into your neck and you let out quiet moans, words completely failing you.

“Divine,” he breathes, returning to kiss your neck, the sensitivity of it making you clench around him immediately. “Oh, so divine, darling I could have you for eternity, such a better use of our time than fighting all of these tiresome battles.”

He began to pump in and out of you slowly, your mind spinning from the weight of him on top of you, the sensation of being fucked so deeply, overwhelmed by the afterglow of all that had happened.

And still his words didn’t cease.

“I could keep you forever, a precious little pet, tied to the bed to fuck whenever I wanted. Or perhaps the other way around, I would wait an eternity just for another chance to taste you, to please you. Whatever fantasy you wish darling, we can fulfill it tonight, I swear to you - fuck.”

He picks up the pace as you clench around him yet again, your release not even having a build up, but instead crashing against you like a tsunami. You feel the wetness seep down your thighs, coating where the pair of you connect.

“Ast-ar…” you can barely breathe, and he laughs almost maniacally.

“Very good, darling, just like that. Give in to me. You don’t need a single thought in that head now, focus only on me and let go. You can cum again, you can, for me.”

“Can’t - I can’t…”

“Oh, you can and you will, if you want me to drink from you tonight,” he muttered darkly, and you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes.

“Astarion.”

“You have to cum again, to get what you want. Just one more time, my darling. One more and you’ll please me so well. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You muster up the last of the strength you have, words falling from you without control. 

“Yes, fuck, yes please, Astarion, please I want to come, I want you to bite me, I need to be yours, I need you ~”

It was almost as though your last orgasm hadn’t ended, with how quickly this one had began. An endless torrent that had the tears breaking, pouring down your face and into the dirt. You nearly choked out a scream, clenching around him so tightly that you feel Astarion tense, cursing wildly as you feel a warmth flood you.

You take a moment, trying with all your might to remember how to breathe, mouth gaping, expecting Astarion to move from you any moment.

Instead you shriek as he thrusts again, hand once again curled around your neck, stopping any chance you had at catching your breath.

“We aren’t done,” he growled, your own slick and his cum leaking out of you as he continued to fuck you, harder now, less restrained that before, nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving you. “We are so far from done, my love. You’re mine, you’re mine.”

Finally, what you had been begging for all night came to pass, and his fangs sunk deep into that claimed spot of your neck. You felt the familiar warmth and euphoria as your blood drained into his hungry mouth, his moans reaching a crescendo and hips moving at an inhumane pace.

And he was right.

You were his, blood and body and mind, it was all his. He had consumed every inch of you.

It was incredible, it was numbing, all you could think about was Astarion. Every molecule of you was on fire, and screamed to be connected to him, to never leave this moment, to stay in an eternity of this torment, but after four orgasms and on the verge of a fifth, with the ecstasy of his fangs in your neck, you simply couldn’t continue.

“Too much,” you manage to croak out, tears streaming down your cheeks and your entire body screaming. Your hands grip the vampire's arms tightly when he doesn’t immediately stop, nails biting into his skin. “Too much, stop!”

Immediately the fangs retract and he’s gently pulling out of you, red eyes wide with a hint of a rare expression on his face.

Fear.

“Darling I’m so sorry, did I take too much? I felt you going limp but, hells you’re so delicious I must have been lost in it-”

You shook your head quickly, placing a hand on his chest as you tried to collect your thoughts, tears still streaming.

“No, no, no,” you breathe out, still gasping. “Not the blood, you’re alright. It was too much, I really can’t cum again, it's too much. Too much good, I promise.”

The fear melted away to a more familiar expression, a smug smirk. 

“Oh darling,” he purred, hand trailing up and down your inner thigh in a soothing but teasing manner. “I don’t know about that, you can still manage full sentences. Clearly too much brain power left…and I could go all night.”

“Astarion.”

A rare, genuine chuckle left the man as he began softly stroking your arm and playing with your hair, easing you down from your intense high.

When your breathing leveled out, he began to stand up, and you nearly whined.

Sensing your distress, he waved lightly. “I’ll be but a moment.”

He sauntered away, and you laid back, taking the moment to look up at the stars, basking in the glow of the orgasms and the moon.

He really had done his job, you had to admit to yourself. You were struggling to form a coherent thought.

When he returned, he had clothed himself, and had a small cloth in his hand. Striding over to you he gently knelt down yet again, running it over the blood stains on your neck, the mess between your thighs.

You stared at him, and he caught your look of surprise.

“What?” he asked, an affronted tone. “I know how to treat my lovers, darling.”

“Hmm,” you chuckle, closing your eyes. “Just a softie, I knew it.”

“Hardly,” he huffed, chucking the cloth off to who knows where and pulling you up against his chest. 

He began to play with your fingers, lightly tracing the veins in your hands and up your arms. The pair of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, no words passing between you, but a silent understanding growing.

“We ought to go back to the camp,” Astarion eventually broke the peace, smirking at your disappointed expression. His arms encircled you once again, and you tried not to dwell on how good it felt. “Despite your rather loud vocals, I believe the others didn’t hear us, and unless you’d like to explain to them why you aren’t walking properly tomorrow…”

You snort, pushing him off of you. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight, my darling.”

One thing was certain, you noted as you returned to your bedroll, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. 

You’ll need extra healing from Shadowheart in the morning.

Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (teaser)

sypnosis: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive

teaser word count: 0.5k / full fic word count: 30.8k :3

teaser warnings: is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? (full list of warnings to be released w the fic!)

release date: sometime in july (oh wait it’s july already)

spotify playlist ♫ (still in progress and will be open to recs after release hehe)

PART ONE AND TWO ARE OUT!

note: drop a comment/send an ask if you want to be tagged (pls make sure that you’re taggable 🥺) thank you and i hope you look forward to it <3

—

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground.

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place.

“what do you think i work here for?”

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease.

unhappy faces with blank stares.

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain, jeon jungkook!”

“jungkook! sit!”

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung.

“eh, more like the wind beneath our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat.

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying.

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship.

the earth begins to move in slow motion.

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing.

gone is the smile on his face.

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are.

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking?

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified.

and why is his breaking too?

—

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

The angelic peeps (I don’t mind who) with a sinner reader who had been mistaken as angel because of their form. Just them getting shooed inside heaven and ends up being like 👁️👄👁️????

Hell is forever! And Heaven... is also forever?

Adam

Now, when you'd appeared, you had no idea where you were, or what the actual fuck was happening.

So when you witnessed an angelic figure slashing down some creepy little creature, you naturally freaked out.

When you were approached by an angel, if that angel shopped at forever 21.

The Goth angels having their weapons drawn you'd freeze, the two freezing as they stared at you.

"The Hell are you doing here?" One would as with a disnctly feminine tone.

You, completely off guard, would blurt out. "I'mmm... lost?" You speak, feeling like you were playing the greatest gamble of your life.

The two would look at each other for several moments before one would sigh. "Great, a normie?"

"We sure they're a Winner?" The second Angel spoke.

"Mmmm." The second hummed. "You ever seen a Sinner look as good as them?"

The second placed a hand to her chin. "... Nah."

The first groaned, rubbing her oddly yellow Gray face. "If this gets out, this is gonna be a mountain of paperwork."

"Uhhh, we don't have paperwork." The other hummed, raising a brow.

"Yeah well, if Adam finds out about this he'll make us sign autographs for him for the next 3 weeks."

"I don't know why he does that, he's the only one that uses them."

As the two grumbled between each other, you just stood there, waiting and unsure of what to do as the two bitched back and forth.

After a while more of this, they'd snap to you.

"Alright, fine, come on then." The angel grumbled, walking over to you.

You didn't get to react before she suddenly grabbed you, flying up into the air and scaring the crap out of you. It took a minute but they flew you through the massive hole in the sky.

She placed you on the cushy cloud like road, the Angel hushing you as she snuck you past St. Peter, popping open the gate and shoving you inside.

"Look, you didn't see anything. I didnt see you. You didnt see us. Got it!?" She asked coldly.

You just nodded back, the woman glaring at you before shutting the gate, leaving you... somewhere.

That answer was quickly, well, answered, as turning around you found yourself in... Heaven.

Oh, well that's...

Wait?

HEAVEN!?

Did you just... luck your way into heaven?

Apparently you did as you were quickly welcomed into heaven, the populous eagerly welcoming you.

And well... it was Heaven!

Everything was fun and carefree and there was So. Much. Singing!

It'd be when you attended a rock show, you eagerly watching as Adam himself played lead, the whole thing incredible.

Youd somehow end up behind the scenes after the show, a variety of virtue Winners all flaunting over the Band members, especially Adam, the man surrounded by Winners.

Of course, your appearance instantly caught his attention, the man perking right up and the next thing you knew the man was all over you, the man boldly chatting you up.

Now, Adam was... well, he was a prick, but he had a charm to him when he w a s trying to be charming, the man a mix of complements and criticisms, the man always sure to play himself up.

Now, look, your not entirely proud, nor ashamed, but well... you fucked.

And admittedly... it was pretty good. Adam was a dick but, well, he knew how to use his... mostly.

And that's how you fucked the first man.

Now, you have no doubt his initial interest was all about your physical appearance, after all, your body had been what got you into heaven in the first place.

Now you'd think after that first night you'd never see the Man again, expecting to be another one of his 'conquests', before he moved along on.

Okay, so yeah, you had his number.

And yeah, he regularly called you up for a booty call.

But its not like you totally hung out after said booty calls. Eating takeout and casually chatting.

Or just laying on his belly as you scrolled your respective phones, neither of you saying anything as you just chilled.

And you totally didn't perk right up when you saw his caller ID, greeting him as 'dickmaster', the two of you flirting hard before you'd end up at his place.

And sure, you had a drawer at his place, and a pillow, not to mention a bathrobe.

...

...

...

Well fuck.

Okay, yeah, so you were, uh, 'going steady', not that the first man would admit as much, but yeah, things were, well, fun.

Sure Adam could be a dick, but with some strick words, and a smack across the face, the man was surprisingly apologetic. Like, he was still a dick, and an ardent one at that, but behind closed doors he was amazingly simple, the man quite chill as you enjoyed each other's company.

Now, you'd always kept your status as a sinner hidden, I mean, it's not like anyone suspected you, how could a sinner end up in heaven, am I right?

But you were in Hell, and well, he wasn't super open about it, but it was clear Adam detested the Sinners, the man proudly speaking on how much he despised them.

Your relationship would develope on for several months before he noticed something off with you.

"Where's your Halo?" He'd ask so causally after you'd both chewed down on some Chinese food.

You'd freeze, mind rushing as you thought up a valid excuse, going over the several you'd made up in a paranoid stupor.

"It... uh, it's kinda ugly, I keep it stored away."

The man stared at you for several minutes, before shrugging, the two of you going right back to how you were.

And so, you went on for several more months like this, growing even closer, spending a great amount of time with each other.

It'd be one day as the man goes on and on about 'filthy sinners' you unsure how to react, as on one hand you kinda were a sinner, but on the other you could go the rest of eternity without ever broaching the subject.

But well, why make things easy.

So you brought it up, asking him what he really though.

Unsurprisingly, the man had not a kind word about them, so you asked cooly what if you were a sinner?

Of course, you asked it in a flirty tone, the two of you quickly getting playful.

He'd tell you how he'd have to 'punish' you, giving you his 'righteous sword', the two of you having some especially nasty sex.

Your life was good, you and Adam got closer and closer, to the point you ended up moving in with him.

Everything was perfect... and then it wasn't.

You'd been found out. Over something so simple too.

Your blood.

You'd cut your finger.

You bled.

Their blood was gold.

Yours wasn't.

It hadn't come up, but one of the seraphim noticed, and... well.

The courtroom was something.

Adam losing his shit over this whole thing, while you just kept quiet.

Eventually you'd confess, telling them how you'd been ushered in during an extermination, you honestly not even sure where you were supposed to be.

You'd apologise to Adam, in tears as you told him you loved him, and that you never meant to cause any of this.

Now, it wasn't just a one sided argument, Adam as well as many of your friends came to your defence, many pointing out how you'd fit right in in heaven for ages, and now all of a sudden it was an issue?

That would certainly cause some issue amongst Heavens leadership.

Adam was especially vocal, saying he hated Sinners more than anybody but you clearly weren't like the other scum that get spit out into Hell, you were... special.

Now, there's 2 ways this could go.

1. Heaven simply doesn't care, expelling you from Heaven leaving your friends and Adam to fight for you. I doubt Adam would fall for you, but he'd certainly keep fighting for you, ironically, in this timeline, Adam would 100% be on Charlie's side. Man absolutely all for redemption.

Especially if you joined the hotel, you kinda being proof Sinners could live in heaven.

It'd be quite the star crossed lovers situation, the both of you from different worlds, doing your absolute best to be reunited.

Or 2. You'd be put under 'house arrest', you being restricted to a very limit area, I.e. Adams apartment, the two of you under guard most hours of the day while they 'figured things out'.

And youd basically spend all your time with Adam, the two of you growing even closer, and again, he'd be on Charlie's side this time around, man eager not so much to work with Hell, but to see if there was a way to get you in heaven permanently, he'd bloody well fight for it.

Emily

Showing up to heaven, you'd quite literally run into her, meeting Emily, the young Seraphim eager and always happy to meet a new resident of heaven.

Especially one as appealing to the eyes as you were.

You'd have some fun moments, the girl eagerly showing you around.

Funnily enough, that'd keep happening.

You'd find her randomly, or she'd find you, the two of you bumping into each other often as she showed somebody around.

And so, you'd tag along, the two of you often showing new residents the ins and outs of heaven. You gaining quite a large pool of friends for your efforts.

The two of you would steadily grow closer through this, spending lots of time together, you'd developed a fairly flirty relationship, as while she was undoubtedly innocent and pure, she wasn't above some playful flirting, though she always kept it wholesomely chaste.

You'd spend more and more time together,

Spending long periods together, you'd grow closer and closer, you and Emily developing quite the... ship.

I say 'ship' cause it wasn't quite a friendship, nor a relationship. You were in a limbo between the two.

It'd be one day after you stood up for her with a particularly rude arrival, the man seemingly loosing his mind.

Not all too odd. People had very different reactions to finding out they're dead.

But it'd be as you helped her too her feet, gently cupping her face that you'd ask her out on a date. Like, a date-date, kinda date.

And with that adorable blush of hers, she'd agree.

It was a simple affair.

You'd take her to dinner, a simple, humble dinner. Nothing crazy or over the top, just an intimate little thing.

Just like your relationship.

And after walking her home, you started dating with a warm kiss, and not much really changed.

You still spent all day together, showing arrivals around and just having fun.

But now~ you got to kiss. And you had date nights. Your relationship and romance only growing stronger by the day.

You'd actually end up telling Emily about you being a sinner.

It'd be something you wanted to tell her for ages, you telling her about everything.

How you were in Hell, and ended up in heaven, and you'd been there for so long you honestly didn't know where you belonged.

Emily of course was sooooo supportive, the woman promising to keep your secret, swearing to protect you.

You'd honestly live a very happy life with her, the two of you happy with just each other, even as you hid your past, constantly paranoid somebody would realise it one day.

Now there's kind of two ways this could go.

The first; your found out and Emily gets exposed for hiding you. A very serious action, though teeechically not illegal as it'd never been done before.

But still, knowingly hiding a sinner was a serious offence.

So, it could go two ways, either heaven realises that you aren't this evil monster, likely confining you to your home, monitoring you at all hours, likely only letting Emily visit.

It'd be tough, but upon Pentious' redemption the question of you being opened again, Emily being even more eager this time round.

Or they outright exile you, Emily potentially getting into trouble due to it.

Regardless of what happened, you and Emily would love each other, through thick and thin.

Lute

NOW!

I think we all know Lutes opinion on Sinners, an opinion she'd make sure you knew.And while it was a major insecurity for you, terrified she'd find out.

Of course, Lutes wouldn't believe it possible, you being a sinner. You were waaaaay to attractive to be some filthy Sinner.

Yet outside of that, you had such a passionate romance, the two of you doing many, MANY unholy deeds in the bedroom.

Your romance was... let's say physical.

Lute was a dominant individual, forced to be when dealing with Adam most days, as such, easily took charge of most situations.

Now, you'd keep your past hidden, naturally, not wanting to destroy your relationship.

The purges would be... a contentious point. The girl no doubt telling you, either directly or indirectly, and while she thought little of it, it would shake you, knowing the person you loved relished killing souls so avidly.

Lute... well, she'd certainly have a reaction to this.

Having the person she loved challenge her beliefs would leave her a little off guard, the woman forced to really reassess her beliefs.

Now, I don't see her genuinely changing those beliefs entirely, but I could see her toning them down, the woman maybe even a little compassionate to their plight.

Now... there's a reasonable chance Lute would figure out what you were, despite your good looks, the woman has first hand experience with Sinners, so she'd know far better then most on what a sinner looks like.

But she also wouldn't care too much to pay attention to what makes a sinner a 'sinner'.

But... well, it'd come out eventually.

Likely you telling her, confessing to her that your not sure if your supposed to be in Heaven or Hell, Lute completely caught off guard.

She'd likely outright ignore it, shrugging it off, believing it all a misunderstanding. And if you pushed the subject she'd shut you down, telling you not to talk about it.

But it'd be as you held her to your chest, the woman crying as she sat in your lap, arm missing.

You'd tell her your sorry, that you love her, but you were a sinner, and that you understood if she despised you, but you couldn't live a lie anymore.

And so, after caring for her, ensuring her arm was cared for, you'd turn yourself in

Ironically just as Pentious was reincarnated and well, the next step would be on Lute.

Hey y'all, I wanna thank you all for 4 THOUSAND FOLLOWERS!!! I am so honoured so many have deemed me good enough to follow.

(I do want to apologise for taking so long, I've been dealing with a tremendous amount of personal issues and haven't had much time for writing.)

But seriously, I wanna thank every last one of you for being here and supporting me. I love every last one of you and I hope my content has helped at least one of you feel better.

P.s. I would have done more angelic character, and might in the future, but I was drawing a blank and wanted to get this out asap.

[talesofesther]

𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢

↳ 𝐂𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: You made a promise to Aemond once, when you were young and naive, and the only friend he'd ever known; yet you abandoned him before you could fulfill it. Between broken bonds, a betrothal, and flames that still burn deep within you; this is the story of how you fell apart and found each other again.

A/N: Things will start to get interesting now, let me know your thoughts. <3

Word count: 4,9k

Masterlist | Previous chapter (prologue)

You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes and leaning your head back with both arms open lazily beside your body, wind flowing quickly in between your fingers. The skies were clear, morning sunlight reflecting against ashen blue scales as your dragon's wings stretched to their full size.

Dancing and gliding in between clouds, the sky was yours.

As you opened your eyes, you were greeted with a sight that would always leave you breathless, no matter how many times you'd be privileged to witness it. The lands below seemed small, castles, houses, and fields afar dwarfed by how far up you were flying. You could see beyond walls and mountains, as far as the horizon allowed. The back of your dragon's head stretched forward in a relaxed manner, seemingly taking in the view just as much as you; the patch of fur in between her long grey horns flew and flowed with the strong breeze.

You reached your arm past your saddle, the palm of your hand laying flat against her warm scales in a loving caress. She cooed, a low groan coming from the back of her throat as she turned her head slightly so her deep blue eyes met yours for only a moment. You smiled. Khamira had grown to be just as big as Meleys, she was all raw power and formidable wildness, and yet, ever so gentle in your hands.

It would never cease to amaze you, how a beast as strong and majestic as a dragon—wings and legs supported by pure muscle, teeth and horns as sharp as daggers, and fire as hot as the hells—could at the same time be this graceful, this agile, and elegant.

Her wings swished with precision, creating ripples in the clouds as if painting a canvas; her long tail kept her body straight and balanced; multiple shades of dark and pale blue shone under the sunlight with each movement of her body. She was poetry in motion, carrying you through the morning sky on her back.

The feeling, the pleasure, of riding on dragonback was incomparable; a mixture of being invincible, untouchable, and yet completely at peace.

You leaned forward at last, uttering a soft command for her to pick up speed and the adrenaline was quick to kiss your cheeks in the form of a heavy wind. Your dragon bomb-dived suddenly, bringing her wings close to her body and her muzzle downwards. An ecstatic laugh escaped your lips as you felt the power of her body moving beneath you, taking you through the air.

She only opened her wings again when you were short of hitting the roof of a tall church, returning to a steady height as you flew fast above King's Landing. The dragon addicted to the rush just as much as you.

If people looked up, they would see nothing but a flash of blue, the silhouette of massive wings and a long tail vanishing just as fast as it came.

For the first time in seven years, you were finally heading back to the Red Keep. Vaemond had called into question Luke's legitimacy of birth, as he was to be Driftmark's heir, prompting you and your family to meet him for the discussion in King's Landing. While the rest of your family came by ship, you chose to ride over on dragonback and meet them there. The swaying of a ship on the ocean's water could make you nauseous, but flying in between clouds always cleared your head and filled your lungs with the fresh air of unabashed freedom.

After bidding goodbye to your loyal dragon as she was guided into the Dragonpit to rest, a carriage took you to the main gates of the Keep. The guards welcomed you with salutes and curtsies, something you were yet to get used to, even with being born into the royal family.

You were headed to the doors of the castle when they were pushed open by an older, bald man. He walked up to you and bowed his head. "Welcome home, my lady. Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra are already inside, they've gone to speak with the King."

Greeting him back with a nod, you smiled softly; "Thank you..." You dragged the word, raking your head to remember who exactly this was.

"Caswell, my lady," he kindly finished for you.

"Thank you, Lord Caswell."

The castle itself was still as grand and majestic as you remembered it to be, in some ways it didn't even feel like the last time you were here was so many years ago. The torches flickered softly along the grand hallways, casting a warm, golden glow on the stone walls as you walked aimlessly. Although you already had a designed room for your stay here, you refrained from changing out of your riding clothes, choosing to stay in black breeches and a long overcoat rather than a silken dress.

You eventually got hold of Jace and Luke who were also wandering about the castle and reminiscing on their childhood here. Despite your differences and disagreements during early childhood, you'd grown closer with both boys during your time at Dragonstone. Quickly enough, between dragon rides at sunset and playing together day in and day out, they became almost like brothers to you.

"It's so cool to be back here," Luke spoke, excitedly walking ahead of you and Jace, "I wonder why we haven't visited more."

"You know why, Luke," Jace raised a brow, his voice holding a smidge of warning to it. "It's not like we parted on the best of terms."

Immediately you knew what he was talking about. You recalled it as if it had been yesterday. Laena's funeral, the commotion in the dead of night, the red of blood, stitches piercing the skin of the prince who'd lost an eye. Your heart sped up then, hands feeling clammy and cold at the same time.

Aemond. He'd be here too, surely. It's been far too long since you've seen him, yet not long enough for you to stop counting the years. Part of you wondered if he did so too.

Something like guilt started weighing down on your stomach, because there had been letters exchanged over the years, mostly holding empty promises that you'd see each other again soon. A young hope that was snuffed out as you got older and wiser; it never happened, it was out of your reach. And for many seasons now, there had been no letters at all. You weren't sure who stopped first, there just came a day when you knew not to send another letter his way, because you wouldn't be getting any back either.

"Why don't we check out the training yard?" You suggested with a grin, "To remember the times when I kicked your butts there." With a giggle, you pushed Jace's shoulder halfheartedly.

"Hey, hey, I don't remember any of that," Jace countered, holding back a smile of his own, whilst Luke was already chuckling with a hand over his mouth.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

The sound of swords clashing was already loud and sharp as you descended the stairs to the training yard; many people were there, some sparring with each other as others watched and clapped and gossiped.

"Looks smaller than I remembered," Luke commented as he glanced around.

"It looks exactly the same," Jace concluded, skipping the last few steps of the stairs and landing on the gravel grounds of the yard. "Come on, you two."

The older of the brothers ran forth to check a dent in the stone walls, a mark of their old training days here. You, on the other hand, stopped to check out the weapons displayed for choice on the tables; maces, morningstars, swords, and daggers.

A faint smile came to your lips. The smell of smoke and sweat, the clash of metal, the grunts and cheering of the soldiers—it all reminded you of cherished memories. Firstly, of the first lessons your father had ever given you, sword all too big and heavy in your small hands, you were only five, yet he insisted that regardless if you were a boy or girl, you should learn how to fight; you still remember the first time you were finally able to best him in combat, you were ten, it took you five years but you had done it; Daemon smiled the biggest on that day, telling everyone how his daughter was a born fighter. And secondly, came the memory of your sparring sessions with Aemond when you were young, he'd refused to put up a fight in the beginning, afraid he'd hurt you; but he started to give you a fair fight when you'd bested him the second time around; you still remember how he'd run around the castle, searching for you and then holding onto your hand to lead you to the training yard, "You're too slow," he used to say with a smile, "If I don't drag you around we won't be there on time."

Part of you wished those moments were infinite.

By the time your mind returned to the present, Luke and Jace had joined you. Jace began picking up the weapons on the table with an excited grin; yet Luke seemed on edge, glancing around himself and at the piercing gazes on your backs from the people here. You felt it too, the judgment and the whispers.

"What's wrong, Luke?" You asked, one hand reaching up to touch his arm comfortingly.

The boy furrowed his brows in discomfort, head hanging low. "Everyone's staring at us."

A soft grimace passed over your features as you tilted your head at him, eyes glinting with silent understanding. In part, you knew what he was feeling, you'd received your fair share of odd glances when at court as well; you were a royal prince's daughter yet had hair in the shade of the warmest grey that almost resembled brown in certain lights, and eyes as dark as the night sky, so of course, people would talk.

"No one would question me being heir to Driftmark," Luke spoke, his tone a mix of frustrated and defeated as he still avoided your gaze, "If... if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon, than Ser Harwin Strong."

"It doesn't matter what they think," Jace at last spoke up, ducking his head to meet his brother's eyes.

"He's right, Luke," you reassured, "Don't mind them."

A sudden crash of something heavy hitting a wooden shield caught your attention then, and all three of you turned around to watch as a small crowd gathered around two people sparring. Luke and Jace ran toward it to watch, so you followed close behind, squeezing yourself past and between a few people so you didn't have to stand on your tiptoes to catch glimpses of the fight.

One of the two you recognized almost instantly, Ser Criston Cole, you had never particularly been too fond of him. The other, who still had his back to you, you hadn't recognized, even if there was something familiar about the way he moved. His long silver hair bounced over his shoulders as he dodged Cole's attacks quite expertly; his movements swift, calculated, and still somehow elegant. The shield held by the mysterious man broke and he threw it aside without a second thought, going in for another attack. The sword cut through the air, Cole's morningstar slammed into the ground, and finally, the silver-haired man turned in your direction.

A teasing grin and an eyepatch framed the sharp features of the young man, his single bright eye glinting under the hazy sunlight as he held the sword with a firm grip, ready for another attack.

You felt as if all air suddenly left your lungs and refused to come back, your lips hanging open as your gaze was all but locked onto him. Aemond. You'd recognize him anywhere, in any lifetime, you feared. He looked so different yet somehow still the same; his hair was much longer, features older and sharper as he'd grown over the years; his harsh scar, you noticed, was now fully healed, and yet still evident as a reminder of the fateful night he'd claimed Vhagar and lost his eye; but his smile seemed to be the same you were used to, that mischievous tilt of lips he'd wear against his opponents.

A smile of your own began to stretch your lips and you took half a step toward him before stopping yourself, your heart beat painfully against your ribs and in your ears, bringing a nearly nauseous twist to your guts. It felt as if your body had trouble picking an emotion upon seeing Aemond again after all these years.

You'd wished, prayed even, for the day you'd finally be able to meet one of your best friends again; the lonely, outcast boy you had grown so fond of over the course of mere months. The one you had shared most of your afternoons in the Red Keep with, the one who'd steal you away to the library to share tales of the old dragons. Yet seeing him now, after so many seasons of pure silence, you had no idea where you stood with him.

The fight ended with Aemond holding the sharp end of his sword against Cole's neck, staring him down as a dragon would with its prey.

"Well done, my prince," Ser Criston spoke, rather breathless from the exertion, "You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about tourneys," Aemond answered back without pause, his tone filled with finality and eye holding a piercing stare. "My lady," he said then, voice just a tad softer, whether he meant for it or not. Twisting the hilt in his hand, Aemond lowered his sword, his gaze now landing on you. "Have you come to train?"

You were unable to hold back a small gasp as he addressed you so directly. Your whole body tensed up, part of you wanted to answer yet any and all words were completely tangled in your tongue. You could faintly feel Jace's hand on your shoulder yet you barely registered the touch, unable to tear your eyes away from Aemond. And he held your gaze with his unwavering one, almost challenging you to break the connection.

It felt all kinds of wrong, for this to be your reunion and first words to each other after so long, for Aemond's words and gaze to be this... cold. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

You were saved by the sudden opening of the heavy doors of the gate behind you. Soldiers marched through with proud strides as they escorted Vaemond Velaryon into the castle.

Even as you turned around to watch their entrance, you could feel how Aemond's gaze didn't leave you even for a moment.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

A storm raged outside during your first night back in the Keep, you didn't sleep much, tossing and turning in bed and pacing around the spacious room they'd given you. Part of you almost wanted to step outside into the dark hallways of the castle and head to Aemond's room. It would be improper of you, but that's not why you did not go.

When the morrow came at last with the sun rising on the horizon of King's Landing, it was time to head into the throne room to discuss what you had come here for, the succession of Driftmark.

A small crowd of lords and ladies had already gathered in the large room, with Otto Hightower standing before the grim Iron Throne. The image of the seat of swords, being highlighted by the sunlight coming through the tall windows, would always make a shiver run down your spine.

You walked in with steady steps, sensing a few eyes land on you as you smoothed the fabric of your dress—hardly your preferred choice of attire, but Rhaenyra might just have your head if you showed up in your riding clothes. She, her sons, and your father were already here as well.

Daemon spotted you from the corner of his eyes, he squeezed Rhaenyra's hand once before stepping away from her to walk toward you.

"Father," you spoke in a low voice when he met you halfway. Over his shoulder, you caught sight of Aemond, who stood near the Iron Throne with his family; for a small moment, you held his gaze, even if you couldn't possibly read it.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up," Daemon raised his brows at you, a rather amused grin playing on his lips.

"Oh, you know me," you chuckled quietly, shrugging your shoulders as you continued walking to where Rhaenyra waited, "I wouldn't miss court drama for anything."

Daemon snorted, uncaring if his laugh would attract the attention of the nearby lords, "Yeah, tell me about it." He brought a hand up to rest between your shoulder blades, guiding you through the remaining steps. "It's like they look for reasons to break any resemblance of peace we might have."

You hummed at his words, biting back a laugh of your own, "Se iēdrosa, Rhaenyra ivestretan nyke ao gaomagon naejot mōris se lyks aōla gō īlen āzma." ('And yet, Rhaenyra tells me you used to raise quite the trouble yourself before I was born.')

"Kessa, sȳrī, īlen drējī tolī kirimves skori paktot zirȳ, mērī." Daemon defended halfheartedly. ('Yes, well, I was admittedly more fun than these people, at least.')

"Hen rhinka," you mumbled, stopping beside Rhaenyra and greeting her with a warm smile. ('Of course')

From the other side of the room, the one-eyed prince watched. He'd kept his eye fixed on you as soon as you stepped through the throne room doors. His hands clasped behind his back tightened their grip with each step you took. And for each of your steps, his heart beat twice as hard, heavy and hurting for an escape.

It was true that you had grown into a stunning young woman over the years; enticing curves, soft hair falling over your shoulders, freckles still dusting your cheeks and nose, delicate hands holding onto the fabric of your dress. Many gazes turned your way whenever you walked into a room, it came as no surprise to Aemond, even if it bothered him.

And yet it wasn't just that, no; he could see so far beyond, that same spark in your eyes lingered, the one he'd see each time he'd ask you to tell him the story of how you found your dragon; that same smile that was so contagious still had the same sway to it; your mere presence still made his heart race and hands itch to touch you, as it always did.

Aemond thought, perhaps wished, he would have forgotten all about you over the years. You had abandoned him, after all. You had abandoned him, maybe at a time when he needed you the most. His only friend, and you never came back.

The prince had waited, for nights and days on end, he'd stare out the windows to the horizon and past the sea, hoping with all he had that one day he'd spot the blue hue of your dragon's scales in the distance. And he knew he'd cry, and run to you, and hold you close no matter who was watching. But it never happened, you never came. And the years kept on going by, years of which he kept a close count. By year three, he decided he wouldn't feel within the right to hug you anymore. By year four, he decided he wouldn't cry anymore. By year six, he decided it would be best you didn't come back anymore.

Alas, perhaps he could have gone to you. But he hesitated, he knew he wouldn't be welcomed in Dragonstone; and after a few years went by, as much as Aemond would never admit it, he lacked the courage to go after you. In the most fragile parts of his heart, he feared you'd react as all ladies of the court did when they looked at him; with wide-eyed gazes and poorly concealed whispers about his ugly scar and 'off-putting demeanor', as they'd say.

Yet he had missed you, oh he missed you. In a way that he'd walk into every room hoping to find you there. And now, it finally happened. You came back to King's Landing, but you didn't come back for him.

Aemond watched as you walked into the room, your father meeting you halfway and guiding you to your family. The prince felt a tightness build in his throat, he tried to gulp it back, squaring his shoulders. Even after all these years, all it took was one look at you, and Aemond's resolve crumbled. All his attempts at putting you behind him were suddenly futile, if the speed at which his heart was racing was any indication.

Yesterday, when Aemond spotted you in the small crowd of the training yard, he nearly lost his balance, nearly lost the fight. Seeing you again after so long brought an onslaught of confusing feelings to his chest—one of them being petty bitterness, perhaps even betrayal, despite not having the right to feel so, for seeing you stand beside Jace and Luke so amicably—he hardly knew what to think or do; all he knew was that he was angry that you'd abandoned him. Or perhaps just hurt, but broken things tend to have sharp edges.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

You held back a scream as the severed head of Vaemond Velaryon fell from his body, staining the floor of the throne room with deep crimson blood. Your father had unceremoniously beheaded the Velaryon knight after he accused Rhaenyra's sons of being bastards. You watched the gruesome scene with wide eyes, goosebumps on your skin, and a hand clasped over your mouth.

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower screamed to the guards, who readily took to their weapons and surrounded Daemon.

"No need," the Rogue Prince uttered all too calmly, cleaning the blood off the blade of his sword with the hem of his clothing. He then extended said sword to you, without bothering to look in your direction.

You hesitated for only a second before taking Dark Sister from him, and once you did so, Daemon raised both hands in surrender; yet a smug smirk still played on his lips.

You held tight onto the hilt of his sword, until your knuckles turned white, watching as the room filled with fearful whispers and terrified gazes of everyone around you. All eyes were seemingly glued to the pool of blood on the floor that only got larger by the second.

"We are done here," Viserys spoke with finality to the best of his ability, before falling back on his throne as the pain of his wounds filled his decaying body.

Slowly and hesitantly, people began leaving the room, a certain eeriness lingered in the air. From afar, you met your father's gaze, and he simply gave you a curt nod, which meant you'd be giving him his sword back in private, later. He'd told you once; "People don't usually fear women with swords, even if they should. Therein lies your advantage."

Beside the Iron Throne, a few steps away from you, Alicent ran to help her husband, Aegon followed after the guards who began removing the lifeless body, Helaena skipped to the main doors with her hands covering her ears, and Aemond... Aemond had his eye burning a hole in the back of your head.

You would be able to feel the weight of his gaze on you from a mile away, you had been feeling it since you took the first step into this room. Part of you hoped he'd have come to you already, you weren't sure what you were expecting exactly, but so far the words he'd spoken to you in the training yard had been the only ones he'd spoken at all. And you were starting to think that, if you didn't go to him, you'd remain forever far apart.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and then another, and one more, tapping the hilt of Dark Sister with your pointer finger until you built up the courage or until your palms grew sweaty. A sorrowful feeling still lingered deep within your chest, because this was Aemond, the same Aemond you spent nearly entire days with during your childhood, be it training together, sharing stories, or hiding away in the library. You shouldn't be feeling hesitant to face him.

It felt almost as if he had been waiting for you, because as soon as you turned around to face him, Aemond raised his chin a tad, blinking slowly as he watched you walk over to him.

All you could hear was the beating of your heart as you came to stop in front of him, holding tight onto the sword in your hands, its end resting on the floor as you kept it between you and him. "Hello... Aemond." It was the best you could do, voice still too unsure for your liking.

For a moment, Aemond seemed to be hesitating just as much as you. His eye flicked with an emotion you couldn't name, but it was quick and gone as soon as it came. "My lady."

The formality felt wrong and unwanted, like taking a thousand steps backward from what you had once been to each other. Your lips parted but you didn't quite know what to say, so for a moment, you just looked at him, at the new him. The long hair fell over his shoulders, eyepatch covering the deep scar, his perfectly straight posture, and tense shoulders. You saw then, that there was an undeniable wall between you, that Aemond had his guard up and was keeping you at a safe, far distance. It hurt, more than you had the right to feel.

"I'm- It's good to see you again," you stumbled over the words, trying a smile.

Aemond hummed, giving you an almost imperceptible nod in return. For long beats, that was all. He refused to look you in the eyes. "It's been a long time," he chose to say eventually, voice devoid of too much emotion.

Distantly, you felt the back of your eyes burn. "Seven years," you said in nothing but a whisper, as if you could only admit the unfairness of it at a certain decibel level.

"And four months," Aemond finished, his voice just a tad tighter and strained, breath running shallow as he strived to keep his face impassive.

His words took you by surprise, you couldn't help the way your lips parted and the way your heartbeat quickened. He'd kept count, too.

Aemond pursed his lips with something resembling a small pout, he glanced at you briefly as he slowly started walking towards the doors of the throne room, silently beckoning you to follow, his hands still tightly clasped behind his back.

You kept at his side, choosing your words carefully; "I hope... you've been faring well, my prince?"

A low hum came from Aemond again, "As well as a half blind man can be, yes." He stole another glance at you, feeling his heart swell at the fact you'd kept in mind to stay on his good eye's side. "I assume your time at Dragonstone has been a most joyful one?"

You caught the bite at his words then, the concealed hurt. A sigh fell past your lips, the sound of Valyrian steel against stone each time you took a step and tapped Dark Sister on the floors now becoming sharp and loud, as the room was empty, save for you and Aemond. "It was, at times, yes. But I also missed the liveliness of the Keep... on most days." I missed you, you refrained from saying.

Another hum, another beat of silence, as you neared the doors. "I hear you came on dragonback." Aemond observed.

A small smile tugged at your lips; "I did. I've always favored the skies over the seas."

If you looked at Aemond, you'd see him mimicking your soft smile for once. "On that we agree."

Once you reached the main entrance, Aemond stopped, and you had a feeling that regardless of which way you were headed, he'd be going the opposite direction.

He held his stance, chin high, shoulders tensed, hands behind his back. His breath ran shallow and shaky, however, hanging on by a thread under the weight and warmth of your presence; so close.

And you looked up at him, with big and vulnerable eyes. Part of Aemond had always admired how you had a habit of wearing your heart on your sleeve. And he was well aware that if he held your gaze much longer, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together.

"I will see you again soon then, my prince." You spoke with a tight lipped smile.

Yet what were simple words to you, brought back the memories of the last time you'd promised to see him soon, and instead left him alone for seven years. Aemond's sight grew blurry at the edges, and before you could see the tears collecting in the bottom lid of his eye, he cleared his throat and made his way around you.

You watched, with a heavy heart, as he walked away from you, one hand reaching up to his face as his steps quickened.

Your stomach dropped with a mix of guilt and longing, wondering if the distance between you had become one too big to ever be mended.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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[mrdixon]

Shut it

pairing: established daryl dixon x f!reader

wc: 5.9k

summary: pretty much trying to make Daryl jealous GONE WRONG !!!!

warnings: 18+ content, swearing duh, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, squirting, little bit degrading, some spanking,,,,

A/N: GOD this took way longer than it shouldve but writers block makes me want to shove my fingers in my eyes. anyway i hope this was worth the wait because i do not enjoy this as much as i should. BEWARE not fully proofread so i may come back to edit things im just so fucking tired and wanna get this out asap. also i personally dont believe that daryl would be the type to be this rough during sex but a guy can dream…

masterlist!

Daryl was never the jealous type, he trusted you and your decisions so there was no point in getting jealous. He had you, you both knew it. So when a certain man in Alexandria started pursuing you, he didn't pay much attention.

It sort of bothered you, feeling kind of guilty that you wanted your boyfriend to be jealous. You guessed it was just cause you wanted him to be possessive, but he wasn't like that. He cherished you, held you carefully. Sure he liked people knowing he was your boyfriend, but he wouldn't go as far as to mark you up or do something rash in public. That didn't mean he didn't care about you, hell he loved taking care of you and loving you. He just preferred to keep your intimate life private.

You were outside in the front yard tending to some flowers when the guy pursuing you, William, walked up.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He grinned down at you, making you have to look up at him. Squinting from the sun in your eyes, smiling.

“Oh hey, what brings you here?” You replying in a friendly tone, wiping the dirt off your knees before standing up and taking your gloves off. You could feel William’s eyes trail down your body and you mentally eye rolled.

“Just… y’know. Hanging around, taking a walk… Whatcha’ up to?” He murmured, clearly distracted.

You laughed sarcastically, “just fixin’ up these flowers. Couple of kids ran over them yesterday.” William nodded absentmindedly, staring at everything but your eyes.

“Uhuh… poor dog…” He mumbled, clearly not paying attention to anything you just said and it took everything in you to not just flip and slap him across his stupid face.

The front door opened, Daryl walking out with his crossbow on his back, covering those angel wings on the fabric of his vest. You looked up at the sky as if thanking some kind of god for sending Daryl to save you. Though to your misfortune, he wasn’t staying for long.

“Jus’ goin’ out huntin’,” he murmured gruffly and kissed your cheek briefly, nodding towards William before walking down the street towards the gates. Your eyes trailed after him sadly while your shoulders slumped, nibbling your lip to stop yourself from calling him back.

“Uh (Y/N)? I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to pick some berries later, I could even make you a pie with them if you’d like…” William broke through your thoughts and you thought for a bit. One half of you was telling you to say no, but the other half sort of wanted to make Daryl jealous. Or at least try. Ultimately you decided on the second option, this could be fun…. right?

“Sure, later then?” You smiled at William, watching as he looked down towards your chest again, a slight scowl appearing on your face.

“Mhm… I’ll pick you up later then,” he mumbled. You immediately broke out into a smile once he looked up at you again, you just nodded before turning towards your home. Your smile dropping once you entered the house.

The hard part was getting through the afternoon with William, the aftermath with Daryl would surely be the best part.

You sat in the kitchen, doodling in your notebook as you waited for William to come pick you up. Around this time Daryl came home, removing his muddy boots knowing how much you hated when he made a mess in the house before walking into the kitchen to find you with your back to him. You could feel his gaze trail down your body, keeping still particularly around your legs, which were shown off by the shorts you were wearing. Unlike William, you quite liked when Daryl stared at you like this.

You giggled once he came up behind you and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms. Planting soft kisses along your neck and exposed shoulders. “Mmmh… ma girl dress up fer me?” He grumbled, turning your chair around to get a closer look at you. You felt a sense of pride as he bit his lip, admiring your legs, more specifically your thighs which he squeezed affectionately. You weren’t wearing anything extremely extraordinary per se, but it was new to him. You usually covered yourself up for no particular reason, maybe it was your subconscious teasing Daryl since you knew how much he loved seeing you, every part of you. You were just simply wearing a lower cut tank top along with some jean shorts you pulled up in the back of the closet.

He grunted, moving his lips underneath your jaw and planting teasing kisses there, causing you to giggle, “I didn’t dress up for you… I’m going out.” You smiled, rubbing the stubble at his jaw with your thumb.

He jerked his head back slightly, furrowing his brows. “Goin’ out without me?” He snorted jokingly, running his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp which elicited a soft moan from you. “Sounds like you wanna stay home wit’ me…” He huffed, kissing your neck again more forcefully. His hands squeezing at your sides as if trying to convince you to stay home.

You groaned, pushing him back, his hands sliding down to your hips. As much as you’d like to stay home and continue this with him… You were on a mission. And it was to make this man in front of you get jealous. It was like your one fantasy about him, treating you like you were nothing but his. Using you to satisfy his needs, fucking you roughly…

“Sorry baby, I promised to help…” He narrowed his eyes at the nickname but shrugged it off, instead frowning. Rubbing circles into your hips.

“Who ya goin’ with?” He mumbled, burying his face into your neck. Gently pecking any skin he could get his lips on. Your shoulders shook softly as you chuckled, your fingers in his hair.

“William, he asked to help pick berries so he can bake us a pie.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“Err William, the guy you were talkin’ to earlier? The guy who has a painfully obvious crush on ya?” He furrowed his brows questioningly, was it finally working?

You rolled your eyes, “well yeah. That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him though, right?” He narrowed his eyes, moving his hands down to your thighs and shrugging.

“Guess so, wha’s the harm in that?” He murmured, rubbing his thumb against the flesh of your thigh. A spark of warmth pooling into your stomach at the gesture, “jus’ be careful. I trust ya, I don’ trust him though. I see the way he looks at ya.”

You sighed, slightly disappointed you couldn’t wring out a bigger reaction from him. Nodding in understanding you responded, “yeah I know. But don’t worry he’s a good guy, I can see it.” You lied smiling, hoping he wouldn’t see through you. He squinted at your defending of William, but again he shrugged it off.

“Well alrigh’, have fun then.” He kissed your cheek, removing his hands from your thighs. The warm feeling leaving you with his hands. You stood up, closing your notebook and wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing him tenderly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back happily. His arms held you in place as his kisses moved down to your chin and onto your neck, softly suckling at the skin causing you to giggle and squeeze him back.

The knock at the door catches you both off guard, Daryl letting you go reluctantly after kissing your lips briefly. You sighed not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to if you wanted to see a jealous counterpart to your boyfriend. As you walked towards the door he gave you a small pat on your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

You grinned at him before opening the door, William’s eyes immediately blazing down your figure. You could hear Daryl snort behind you causing a smirk tug at the corners of your lips. Deciding to tease Daryl a bit you chuckled at William, “like what you see?”

William was caught off guard by your comment, obviously never hearing you give in to his advances, “oh yeah very much…” You smirked, nudging William playfully.

Daryl stood still behind you, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah you bring ‘er back before 7 pm. An’ don’ try anything’,” he said jokingly, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

William straightened up, he was well aware of your relationship with Daryl but it never stopped him. “Of course… I’ll make sure she’s well… taken care off.” He hovered his hand onto the small of your back, you took the opportunity and placed his hand firmly on the area. Smirking at Daryl.

“I’ll see you later then…” You grinned, placing an arm around William’s shoulder. You cringed in your head, doing all this with William was probably fueling his desire for you. The thought sickening. But by the look on Daryl’s face, it was working. His eyes narrowed, nodding slowly while he nibbled the inside of his lip. He waved to you, keeping an eye on William’s hand on the small of your back while he shut the door to your house.

You sighed deeply now that you were alone with William, slowly moving out of his grasp discreetly. The man grinned at you which you returned with an awkward smile. Now for the hard part, actually hanging out with this guy.

After an agonizing 3 hours of picking berries while flirting with this guy he finally brought you home, after 7 pm, just so Daryl can get a bit more angry about that. You knocked on the door, hearing heavy footsteps come closer before Daryl opens the door.

“Hey… it’s like 8pm,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. You smiled, turning to William.

“Oh well I just had soooo much fun with William, he is such a great guy!” You exclaimed over enthusiastically which Daryl found odd but he shrugged it off, eyeing the man behind you. Who was licking his lips while looking down your back.

“Is that so…” Daryl mumbled skeptical of you two. The other day you were just complaining about how creepy this dude was, and now you’re talking him up like he’s the best person in this fucked up world?

Your eyes twinkled once you realized your teasing was getting to him, deciding to push it and hug William, reluctantly giving him a kiss on the cheek. He of course, hugged you back happily, his hand trailing lower down your back….

You gasped as Daryl grabbed you before William could touch you further. “Okay tha’s enough, goodbye William.” He grunted and slammed the door in his face.

You bit your lip in anticipation, looking up at Daryl who was fuming. “Hun…?”

“What the hell was that about?” He grumbled, pulling away from you. You tilted your head innocently, walking up to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked gently, running a hand down his chest. Which he grabbed forcefully, throwing it back.

“You think tha’s funny?” He growled lowly, his eyes glaring at you enraged. You chuckled, not taking this seriously because it was what you wanted. Stepping towards him with a seductive look on your face.

“Aww is my Daryl jealous?” You hummed playfully. He stared at you in disbelief, running his hand through his hair, a loud grunt escaping him as he paced the room. Your face dropped immediately, definitely not the reaction you expected.

“Tha’s what that was about? You tryna get me jealous? Yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me girl,” he spat agitated. You just stood there looking down at your fingers, not expecting this to backfire so badly. “Shoulda jus’ fucked him at that point. The asshole was practically fucking ya with his eyes.” He growled lowly, pacing around you.

“I didn’t mean to—” You started softly.

“Didn’t what?!” He yelled causing you to flinch, he rarely raised his voice at you. Just by this action alone you knew he really was angry, not just frustrated, pissed. Off.

“I just wanted to… get you angry,” you mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Well ya did, happy?” He grunted, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips. A stern look on his face, “I didn’ even care if ya wanted to hang out with the guy. But goin’ as far as to kiss and touch up on ‘im. Not fuckin’ funny. Especially when ya’ve been complainin’ about him all week, wha’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t… actually kiss him y’know…” you argued softly, looking down ashamed of yourself.

“Not the point. It’s the fact that you, flirted, acted invitingly, and even kissed a guy on the cheek who’s been tryna get wit’ ya, invitin’ him fer more. Hence the way he almost grabbed your ass. You led him on, purposefully to get a rise outta me.” He said through gritted teeth, his gaze piercing.

You sighed, realizing how out of line you’ve been acting. Your own lustful desires leading you to act out stupidly. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to go this far.” You whispered, looking down embarrassed.

He took your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Fury flashing through his blue eyes, his breathing heavy. “I bet,” he grumbled, harshly letting you go before walking upstairs to your shared bedroom. You stood downstairs, beating yourself up mentally for acting like an idiot. The door to your bedroom slamming shut as Daryl locked himself up upstairs.

You groaned, digging your palms into your eyes frustratingly. Not liking the outcome of this at all, instead you were left needy, ashamed, and with your boyfriend angry at you.

A few days passed and Daryl was still rightfully so angry at you, ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder. Still, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Was he really that angry?

You found your boyfriend outside on the front porch sharpening his knife, his muscles flexing slightly by the force he used. The longer he stayed angry at you the more desperate you got. You were practically aching for his touch, to feel him against you.

“Dar?” You said quietly, stepping out onto the porch. He didn’t turn his head but you could see his eyes shift up towards you, grumbling something you couldn’t quite make out before returning his gaze on his knife. You frowned once you realized he was ignoring you again, moving to sit down next to him, to which he immediately stood up and holstered his knife. “Can you just talk to me?” You sighed exasperated.

“Dun’ wan’ ‘ta talk.” He mumbled, stepping into the house. You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. Daryl spun around, glaring at you. “The fuck do you wan’?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Can we just talk and be fucking mature about this?”

“Yer one ‘ta talk,” he grumbled under his breath to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I said I was sorry, I really am Daryl! But you’re being so unfair, you won’t even kiss me.” You threw your arms up before running your hands through your hair, all he did was roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Whatever, you pull tha’ shit on me then you get what you get,” he grunted before turning to head into the living room. You watched your boyfriend’s back angrily as he exited from the conversation.

“Fine,” you grumbled to yourself, stomping upstairs. If he wanted to play this game then you were too, wanting to see how long it’d take for him to snap. Rummaging through your closet you decided to put on a very, very short skirt. Wondering to yourself as to why you even have this in the first place, well first time for everything. You made sure to put on a pair of panties that you knew for sure would drive Daryl crazy, finally finishing the outfit with a tight fitting tanktop. After looking at yourself in the mirror you snorted, you looked ridiculous for sure but maybe it’d work.

You made your way down the stairs quietly, walking with a little sway in your step. Daryl wasn’t shy about his attraction to your body, he loved having his hands on you so you were curious to see what he would do seeing you like this. Especially having not touched you for days now. You moved swiftly into the living room where he was sitting on the couch smoking, you felt his eyes immediately shift over to your body, a shift from where he was sitting.

“Wha’ are ya wearin’?” He grunted, his voice a slight rasp while he looked you up and down. You turned to him, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips.

“It’s a little hot today… s’all.” You chuckled, moving towards the disc rack. It held a lot of cds for music, the two of you never played anything because of how outdated it was but you went over to look at it anyway. Hearing the way he choked once you bent over to check out the bottom of the rack. You moved onto your knees, reaching under the rack to grab, nothing. There was nothing under the rack, but his breathing was getting heavier and you knew he would give in soon.

You sat on your knees, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. Smiling once you met his eyes, he was already looking at you with parted lips. His cigarette sat between his index and middle finger, nothing but a mere object as he already forgotten about it. His leg crossed over the other while his eyes started at your own, slowly moving down to your lips. Then the swell of your neck, down your back, and of course over to your ass which was peaking out from under your skirt. He swallowed thickly when he noticed the lace fabric of your panties, contrasting beautifully with the colour of your skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, from the look in his eyes you knew he was aroused. You just had to push him further to get him to actually act on it…

You stood up slowly, making sure to flash him a little of your panties. He coughed, putting out the cigarette as you walked up to him. Slow and seductive. However he kept his eyes ahead, you would’ve scoffed if you were still in a mood but you were far too aroused to do all that. He was stubborn and you praised him for it, after all you were both the same. You lightly traced your fingers up his forearm, towards his bicep, and then over his shoulder. Standing behind him as you leaned down next to his ear, “what’s that look for?” You whispered low and sultry.

“Wha’ do you think yer doin’?” He murmured quietly, his breathing shortening. You smirked, placing a soft kiss under his ear, his breath hitching as you do that. “(Y/N).” He said lowly, your hands moving from his shoulders and down the front of his chest, slowly making your way down to his belt. Looking over his shoulder and noticing the huge bulge in his pants, a sense of pride flowing through your body at the effect you had on him. He uncrossed his legs due to the tightness in his pants, groaning softly as your hands moved down towards his thighs, teasingly avoiding his erection.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered in his ear, causing him to shudder back onto the couch. His breathing shallow and hot while one of your hands moved towards the erection.

“Don’t.” He muttered, grabbing your wrist. He flicked your hand back away from his crotch, suddenly getting up and turning to face you. His eyes were narrowed and full of fury, but most importantly. Lust.

His piercing blue eyes looked at you with a hungry gaze, stepping around the couch to stand closer to you. Nibbling the inside of his lip as he stared at you, especially your exposed thighs. He abruptly picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder carelessly, causing you to shout out in protest. “Daryl! Put me down!”

”Shut it.” He growled lowly which for sure shut you up quickly. He moved through the house with ease, walking up the stairs and making his way towards your shared bedroom. His fingers dug into your thighs possessively which drew out your excitement even more, wondering what he would do to you. He walked into the bedroom with you over his shoulders, shutting the door with his foot and throwing you onto the bed, eliciting a small yelp from you. Your eyes were wide when you met his own, his jaw clenched at the sight of you laying on the bed in the provocative outfit. He grunted, crawling onto the bed and up to you. Rough and calloused hands gripping onto your thighs as he pushed them apart, a raspy groan leaving his mouth as he saw your soaked panties. “This whatcha’ want?” He murmured with a hint of amusement, running a finger over your slick covered panties.

“Daryl,” you gasped, closing your eyes. His free hand shot up to grab your face harshly, your eyes opening in shock.

“You look at me, ya ain’t gettin’ outta this one easily girl.” He drawled, letting go of your face as he removed his finger from your panties, “and I don’ wanna hear a word from tha’ pretty little mouth of yours unless I say so, ya hear me?” You nodded slowly as you met his intense gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured which had you throbbing around nothing. His hands grabbed at the collar of your tanktop, ripping it off your body easily. You gasped, wanting to scold him for ripping it but you kept quiet as to not anger him even more. His eyes rolled back in arousal when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra underneath the top, “such a fuckin’ tease.” His hands groped at your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch as you let out a quiet moan. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on one of them, licking around the bud before biting down harshly. A loud groan left your lips, causing him to growl and pull away.

Your eyes searched for his while you panted softly from the loss, his hands gripping your waist and flipping you over onto your stomach before grabbing your hips and lifting them up so your ass hung up in the air. “Hold yerself up baby,” he grunted. You did as you were told, placing your hands underneath you and onto the bed while pushing yourself up so you were on your hands and knees. Blushing profusely from the position you were in, trying to turn your head to look back at him. He slapped your ass once, a groan escaping you at the contact before his hands started pulling off your skirt, tossing it onto the floor haphazardly leaving you in your lace panties.

He sat up on his knees, teasingly running two fingers over the waistband, lifting it off your skin only to let it go and have it snap against your hips. You jolted slightly, one of his hands rubbing your ass softly before slapping it again. He leaned closer towards your ear, biting your earlobe before whispering gruffly, “don’ think ‘m gonna be gentle tonight. No, you got yerself into this.”

You whimpered as he pulled away, a big hand grabbing at the crotch of your panties and ripping them apart. The same hand running its fingers through your slick causing you to moan, your arms shaking momentarily. It didn’t take long before two thick fingers plunged themselves into your tight entrance, the sudden intrusion causing you to cry out, “Daryl! Wait!”

“Shut up,” he grunted. Forcing his fingers in and out of you roughly, the pain mixed with pleasure only made you wetter, groaning softly. The obscene noises of his fingers thrusting into you at that speed echoed through the small space of your bedroom, your moans getting louder as you got closer to your orgasm.

But just as you were about to reach that sweet release he yanked his fingers out of you, bringing them up to you and shoving them into your mouth. Immediately your tastebuds were met with the taste of your own arousal, “suck.” He growled lowly to which you obliged, sucking on his fingers that were covered in your juices. He groaned as your tongue slithered between his two fingers in your mouth, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants.

He removed his fingers, moving behind you once more and giving you a little tap on your bum. While you kept your head straight forward, looking at the wooden headboard. You heard the clink of his belt being undone, soon pulled out of his belt loops. You breathed heavily out of your nose once you heard the sound of the belt being tossed aside, hitting the floor with a slight thud. The heat pooling between your legs was getting hotter, throbbing with need as you waited patiently. Your arms were burning from holding yourself up while your stomach swirled with anxiety and excitement.

You heard him shuffle behind you, his pants soon joining the rest of the garments on the floor. His eyes were on you the entire time, though you couldn't see it, you could feel it. By the way his breathing deepened seeing your pussy clench at nothing, the way a low purr sounded from the back of his throat, and the way your skin burned from his lustful gaze. When it got a little too silent you turned your head back, you eyes immediately meeting his. He peered at you through his eyebrows, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up over his elbows. Biting your lip when you saw his forearms, sprinkled with random tattoos here and there. Ones you’d kiss over when he'd make gentle love to you, but it would be different this time.

You couldn't look any lower from the position you were in, settling to look back at the headboard. Which had definitely seen better days. A small gasp left your lips when his large hands suddenly grabbed at your hips, engulfing them completely. His touch wasn't gentle. His calloused hands rubbed at your hips harshly, squeezing and pinching your sides resulting in you mewling softly from the tinge of pain. Suddenly, a slap sounded through the room as his thick cock landed on your ass. A low groan escaping him as he slowly rocked himself against you, rubbing his length between your asscheeks.

“Daryl….” You whined, moving your hips back against his cock. His hand made contact with your ass again, the slap echoing through the room as he pulled his cock away from your ass.

“Wha’ did I say?” He drawled lowly, rubbing the area he just smacked, spanking you once more causing you to jolt. “Answer me.”

You whimpered at the sting, your skin turning a bright red. “No speaking unless asked…”

He spanked you again on the same buttock, eliciting a moan from you this time. “See? Ya know the rules so why do ya not listen?” He tutted you, hitting your other buttock. He sighed, placing his thumbs on the folds of your pussy, spreading them and teasing a finger at your entrance. Just circling it around, not entering you. “Yer such a bad girl.”

You whined, trying to push back on his fingers, desperate for something to ease the ache in your core. He pulled back once again, slapping your pussy. The action sending a wave of pleasure through your body though it was harsh, a quiet mewl slipping out your mouth. Your arms were slowly getting tired of holding yourself up, moving down to your elbows which made your back arch. He grunted, running a hand down your back and into your hair before suddenly gripping it, pulling you up harshly against his chest. You cried out in pain, his lips against your ear while his fingers remained gripped in your hair. “Yer not listening again. I told ya to hold yerself up, so do it.”

He threw you back down, your eyes teary as you placed your hands down again to hold yourself up. His hands found place on your hips again, the rough feel of his palm against your skin made you shiver. One hand left you to grab his cock, teasing it around your clit. “Ya wan’ me to fuck ya, don’cha?” He murmured teasingly after hearing your impatient whines. He chuckled, finding your desperation amusing. “This is wha’ ya wanted, isn’ it?” He slapped the tip of his cock upwards against your clit, your wetness only fueling the sensation further.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he murmured, circling his tip around your entrance. The longer he teased you, the more you were willing to speak up. You moved back on him, his cock slipping into you slightly before he hissed and pulled out.

“Jesus fucking christ can you just fuck me already?” You snapped, earning a spank from him once again. You groaned, already sick of his teasing. “Daryl if you don’t—”

He suddenly shoved his whole length into you, the stretch painful as he started thrusting in and out of you hard. Not giving you any time to adjust to his size, crying out. “If I don’? Yer just gonna find someone else to fuck ya?” He growled gruffly, his hips snapping against yours.

Pleasure soon overpowered the pain, a loud moan ripping itself out of you. He groaned in response, squeezing your hips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, making an erotic symphony that heightened the both of your arousals. “Not gonna answer me? You’d jus’ let anyone fuck ya huh?” He grunted, the tip of his dick hitting closer towards your sweet spot.

You cried out once again, tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline, shaking your head at his question. Your fingers gripped onto the bedsheets below you, your biceps burning which made you just want to drop down onto the bed while he fucked you senseless. His fingers found themselves in your hair again, tugging you upwards so your back was against his chest, growling into your ear.

“Wha’ was tha’? You’d let anyone fuck ya, righ’?” He grunted, thrusting up into your sweet spot, eliciting a loud whine out of you. “Yer such a filthy slut, ya know tha’?” He bit at your neck, leaving a mark that was going to be hard to cover.

You clenched around his cock at his words, shaking your head slightly while he tugged your head back further against his shoulder. “No…” You moaned weakly, the pain from him pulling your hair was even more arousing than you thought. The tears in your eyes spilling over and down your cheeks.

“Yeah yer mine… This pussy?” He mumbled, reaching down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, your back arching as you cried out in ecstasy. “This pussy is mine, only mine ya hear me?” He let out a primal growl, tugging your hair once more.

“Yes! Yes Daryl only yours!” You cried out pathetically, your walls clamping down on his cock as it moved in and out of you at a punishing speed. He grunted approvingly, releasing his grip on your hair which caused you to fall over, landing straight onto your face into the pillows. His hands then gripping at your ribcage, just under your breasts as he pounded deep into you, hitting that same spot over and over again. “Fuck… Oh shit, Daryl..” You whined into the pillows, the bed creaking under the movements.

He pulled you up again, his hands still under your breasts while he whispered in your ear. “Ya gonna be a good slut for me now?” He grunted lowly, you nodded vigorously as moans continued to escape your mouth. “No one can fuck you like I can.” And with that he held you just enough to push himself deeper into you, making sure you feel every inch of his cock invading your tight heat.

The small space of your bedroom soon shifted into a safe, intimate haven in which you two created. Full of your moans and his grunts, skin slapping against skin, while the bed rocked under your movements. You felt a familiar feeling building up and you knew you were close, clenching around him as your moans got whinier and breathy.

He groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusting deeper into you. You whined at the feeling, anticipating the soreness you’d feel in the morning. “Daryl…” You whined, “I’m gonna cum.”

He growled, pulling you up against his chest again, a hand near your throat while the other moved between your thighs. “Ya really think ya deserve to cum?” He groaned, his breathing a little ragged from his own orgasm building up. His fingers moved to play at your clit again, tugging it as he thrusted sloppily into you. “Go on.”

You mewled softly, turning your head to his. He grunted, his lips meeting yours messily. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the depths of it while bringing you both closer to the edge. You bit his lip, earning a whimper from him as your walls clenched around his cock, reaching your climax. His hands jumped up to your breasts while you screamed in ecstasy, pulling your nipples while speeding up his pace.

Your back arched, the pleasure getting overwhelming as he continued to delve deeper, abusing that sweet spot inside of you. “Fuck! Daryl too much!” You cried, reaching back and grabbing his hips. But it didn’t stop him.

“I told ya, ya aren’ gettin’ out of this easily,” he grunted, his hips maintaining his pace while you felt something else squirt out of you. The slippery liquid slipped out of your pussy, slithering down the base of his cock and onto the bedsheets. A rough moan tearing through your throat before collapsing down onto the bed, feeling him pump his cum into you.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, stilling inside of you as he emptied out inside your cunt. He chuckled, pulling out of you and letting the rest of your body fall onto the now wet sheets. “Haven’t seen ya do that before,” he sighed, patting your ass before falling down next to you. “Ya got wha’cha wanted?”

You looked at him tiredly, the tears on your face dried, your voice too hoarse to even respond. Settling for a gentle nod and a small, “I win.” He chuckled, shaking his head before leaning back and closing his eyes. He was also extremely exhausted.

You lay there, unable to move and felt his cum slowly drip out of you. It almost felt uncomfortable but you couldn’t be bothered to get up and clean yourself, wanting to lay there and sink into the sheets. You sighed contently, scooting closer to him and burying your face into his chest. He grumbled, his arm wrapping itself lazily over your waist. You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the rush of satisfaction. Sure you were going to feel absolute pain once you woke up, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to walk or speak for a while. Nevertheless you had finally got yourself fucked rough by a jealous Daryl, who was no longer mad and pushing you away. The issues led up to something amazing for the both of you. Maybe you should get him angry more often.

[greeniegaes]

Back at it agains with another svsss au im pulling out of my (slightly) sleep deprived brain

Basically yada yada everything happens as normal UP UNTIL the immortal alliance arc. SQQ gets this searing headache and the system just keeps popping up with errors, so while they are all fighting the spider hoard the system just kinda snaps and breaks. SQQ suddenly feels like he’s hit by a truck, his body starting to act like his sickly Shen Yuan body and his cultivation is tying itself into dead knots and every bone in his body feels like it’s locking up. There’s no system to blame for things as he and LBH confront MBJ and he just has to do his hardest to survive with just his spiritual sword.

And then the worse thing happens, Xiu Ya shatters.

SQQ panics at this, continuing to try his best fighting people off and eventually MBJ leaves *hooray* except not really because all the system errors are getting louder and louder in his head, and everything is blue and blaring and he might be bleeding and he can’t understand what LBH is saying even though he is right there, shaking his body and crying.

And then the abyss opens. He suddenly has the choice. He can send LBH, his white little sheep, down there to continue on with the PIDW plot, or he can… not do that.

So he pushes LBH.

Away from him. Away from the abyssal rift, only for him to be the one that falls though. He had prepared various lesson plans, life advice, what skills people to work on and so much more once he got without-a-cure, just incase he slipped up one day and couldn’t protect himself. So SQQ was satisfied as he knew his peak would be taken care of if LBH opened a specific drawer, everyone could still be taught by the hall masters and also have some future help prepared for each of them.

So SQQ let’s himself fall into the abyss, watching his student’s horrified expression as he plummets. He hears the system disconnect from LBH as he falls, all of the glowing blue error messages and pop ups instantly go away and he’s left in the dark as he sinks further and further into the abyss.

Surprisingly, he wakes up. He landed in the same field of flowers that are the reason LBH didn’t die in the original, they are filled with celestial qi in a place meant to be horrible and deadly. The one good thing about this place. He lays there for awhile and lets the plants essence fix up his meridians.

Then he has to experience the same horrifying things the protagonist did in person, fighting off each beast and trying his damn hardest to survive. It takes him a while, fighting and walking his way through what’s practically hell on earth, slaying beasts ten times his size, making sure not to fall into the trappings of demonic plants. He cuts his long hair, he thinks he will never see his peak again, so what do filial ties matter when you’re barely surviving. Sometimes the worse thing is his own mind, he feels a heavy layer of guilt to himself for so willing going along with the system. He sometimes forgets it’s not his fault too, that he was threatened to return to a dead body if he didn’t do as he was supposed to. But he’s happy sometimes too, he goes back to that field of flowers, laying in them and basking in his memories of a happier LBH, a LQG that isn’t dead, a Qing Jing peak full of song and happy healthy students.

He ascends from the abyss that day. He doesn’t know how or why but he wakes up in the same field of flowers, the sky above him no longer a damning black with red cracks seeping light in. it’s blue, soft, it hurts his eyes almost to look at it. It hurts so much but he can’t look away. He picks himself up, looking at all the grime and blood on himself and weeps in relief that he can go home. He hides his face and asks people where he is, somewhere in HHP territories, and begins to make his way back to his sect. Once he gets to his peak he sits down softly at the gate, it’s night time and there haven’t been many people about. He basks in the feeling of being home, leaning his head against the tall bamboo pole as he falls asleep.

He’s glad tomorrow is a new day, when he can see his family and just go back to his life.

(in the years he’s been gone all of CQS has been in some kind of mourning. LBH found all the letters from his shizun and they made all the disciples of QJP weep. Some of them took the advice given and left, some of them stayed and took care of a lordless peak. None of the hall masters or disciples were qualified to step up, and when the issue was raised even the peak lords agreed he shouldn’t be replaced. It was LQG who found him at the gate, going to visit the sword shrine in the bamboo house after an expedition, going to leave another fan to rot at the shrine’s foot. instead he heaved up his shixiong, hair not even reaching his shoulders, hands callused and dirty, and brought him back to the bamboo house, waking LBH in the process. Once morning light came everyone would know that their lost peak lord came home, but first they had to get the doctor to make sure he actually got through the night)

[joonsmagicshop]

Period Sex with Tae

Summary: When your period comes unexpectedly and the cramps are unbearable Taehyung takes you in the shower to help with the pain. You know what also helps with period pain...orgasms

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (The other members are very minor characters)

Work Count: 5.5K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: smut, shower sex, period sex, he uses the pull out method but please be safe, sweet boyfriend Taehyung, smut with little plot, hand jobs, fingering, sex without protection, dirty talk, Tae gives reader so much praise, fluffy haired Tae my love, reader is on her period but blood isn't mentioned too much, pad users unite

Authors Note: Blame Taehyung and those shirtless pictures he posted he is a meance and I love him (Also I may be back in my taetae era stay tuned cause who knows)

To say this had been one hell of a week was a gross understatement, it almost seemed like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

Monday, you walked out to your garage and noticed your car had a flat tire. Taehyung had already gone to work for the day so you sighed and called a cab to take you to work, which had you showing up twenty minutes late

Tuesday, you brought your car in to get the flat tire fixed and it turns out there was more wrong with your vehicle than you thought so they had to keep it overnight.

Wednesday it was finally fixed! And while you were elated to have a vehicle again, the four hundred-dollar bill made you want to cry.

Thursday, you finally felt like you got your bearings on the week, and just as you were about to enter an important meeting at work one of the interns bumped into you sending your coffee splashing all over your shirt.

But it was Friday now and you were excited for the weekend where you could do absolutely nothing and just relax.

Taehyung also had this weekend off and the two of you had plans to sit on the couch and cuddle and watch movies all weekend long. He had been so busy with work and you had been so busy with your own work that alone time had been scarce and you longed to be back in his embrace again.

As you woke up you noticed his side of the bed was already empty and you remembered him saying last night how he had a very busy and very long Friday ahead.

You slowly swung your legs out of bed and stretched in the morning sunshine when you felt it. The slick feeling between your legs had nothing to do with being turned on. You ripped the blankets off and stared between your legs where it seemed your period had started sometime in the night.

This was a week from hell and it was only going to get worse.

You hobbled to the bathroom to get cleaned up groaning to yourself as you did so, deciding the easiest way would be to take a quick shower to rinse yourself off.

Making your way back to the bedroom you changed the sheets, pleased to see there was very minimal damage but wanting to wash them anyway as you threw them in the washer and got ready for your day.

While you ate your breakfast your fingers hovered over your text message chain with Taehyung and you bit your lip. He always wanted to be the first to know when you got your period and usually, you did tell him but you knew he had a busy day ahead and you didn’t want to stress him out with something that happens to you every single month.

You quickly packed a lunch, placed the soiled sheets in the dryer, and left for the day.

By the time you got into your car at the end of the eight-hour workday, you were done. Done with this week. Done with this day. Done with your coworkers and your boss. You just really wanted to be at home with Taehyung. He always knew how to make these crappy days better.

You drove through your subdivision and sighed as huge droplets of rain began to hit your windshield and cascade down it. The sky had been dark and gloomy all afternoon but of course, when you are driving home, the sky decides to open up.

You turn down the road that leads to your gated community and press your small black swipe card to the sensor to open the gate.

The storm is picking up speed and you pray that you can get inside before it really starts to rain. You speed home but when you see the driveway you nearly cry out in frustration.

Other cars are parked there which means you have to park on the road. Other cars mean Taehyung has company and you know it is all the boys by the three giant nondescript black vehicles taking up your entire driveway.

You throw your car in park and rest your head on the steering wheel trying to calm yourself. It wasn’t Tae’s fault, he had no idea how you were feeling but it was still frustrating to know you had to come home after a very long week and entertain guests you didn’t know would be there.

Your cramps were starting to come on strong and all you wanted to do was curl up in the baggiest clothes you owned and take the longest sleep you could.

Instead, you put on your brave face and got out of the car. The rain was coming down heavier as you made your way up the driveway and into the house.

The noise was at an all-time high when you walked in and nearly tripped on the fourteen pairs of shoes that were littered in the entryway.

“Not like that!”

“Namjoon you know you aren’t even allowed to step foot in the kitchen!”

“Tae come help us with your TV!”

“Jin you wanted to help so grab a cutting board and help!”

“Taeeeeeeeee”

You gazed around and wondered for a quick second if you should just hop in your car and spend the night somewhere else when you were spotted by Jimin who was making his way from the kitchen to the living room.

He must have seen the look on your face or sensed the tiredness and frustration radiating off of you because he quickly said “Oh hey. Y/N.” in a very timid manner as you quietly kicked off your heels and your boyfriend Taehyung raced over to join you at the door.

“Hello, my love!” He sang as he wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you buried your head in his shoulder, taking in his scent and warmth and feeling much calmer.

“What’s going on?” You asked trying to keep your voice low, which didn’t matter as the volume in the house got louder.

“We got done work about twenty minutes ago and Yoongi wanted to watch a basketball game so I invited them over! Yoongi and Jin are making dinner!” He exclaims eyes wide and excited.

You try to put on your happiest face to match his excitement but he has been with you long enough to be able to read you.

“What’s wrong? I’m sorry I didn’t ask you… I just assumed it was okay. We have them over all the time.” Taehyung said as his hands came to your cheeks to keep your gaze locked on his.

“Tae it’s not your fault at all. It’s me. I had a bad week then got my period this morning and I’m just…surprised. I should have told you but I figured you had a busy day and I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You confessed as Taehyung’s eyebrows knit in concern and he leaned down to press the softest kiss to your left and right cheek as his hands stroked your hair.

“Oh Y/N if you told me I would have never invited them. I’m sorry.” He says holding your body flush against his, keeping you cradled against his chest

“It’s okay Tae. Really. I’ll be good I’m going to go upstairs and change okay.” You told him as you pulled away from his embrace and saw the frown that was painting his beautiful features.

“Are you sure darling? I could kick them out right now and we could have the night to ourselves?” He asks as you giggle and swat his arm lightly.

“Yes, Tae we have all weekend for that. Just let me change into some comfy clothes. I’ll be right down.” You respond getting on your tiptoes to kiss his lips sweetly.

His hands wrap around your waist to hold you steady against him as you melt into the kiss. He hums appreciatively against your lips sending tingles down your body as his long fingers tangle in your hair.

“Taehyung where is your garlic masher!” Jin calls out which has you both breaking the kiss as you blush and Taehyung giggles.

“It’s called a garlic press!” Yoongi yells correcting Jin.

“I’ll help him. Meet us down here whenever you are ready.” Tae mutters against your lips.

“Don’t let them ruin my kitchen” You warn wagging a finger as Taehyung pulls away.

“We already banned Namjoon from the kitchen.” He teases with a wink as he disappears to find the elusive garlic press.

The noise died down as you closed the bedroom door and let out a sigh. You hung your purse from the closet door handle knowing you would have to actually put it away at some point but right now you were too tired to care.

You walked into the bathroom and got cleaned up, changing out your pad for a fresh one and you made your way to the walk-in closet to pick out the comfiest clothes you could find.

You settled on a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt.

You knew you should go downstairs and greet your guests. Maybe pitch in and help Yoongi cook or help set up the game for the boys, however, your body felt like it was weighed down by heavy bricks and even the thought of walking down the stairs was exhausting to you.

You decided to lay down on the bed and scroll your phone for no more than twenty minutes, just enough time for the painkillers to kick in and for your body to hopefully regain some energy.

You curled up in a ball on Taehyung’s side of the bed, taking in the smell of him that lingered on the pillow and before you could even pull up social media to scroll you had fallen asleep clutching Tae’s pillow

You were unsure how much time you had slept for but your eyes opened when the door cracked open and Taehyung was standing there staring at you with a worried expression.

“Taetae!” You cooed sleepily as he walked over to the side of the bed and kneeled down, the back of his hand pressing against your forehead to check for a fever.

You giggled.

“You were up here for almost forty minutes. I was worried about you.” He admitted as you smiled at him sleepily and clutched his pillow tighter.

“Sorry Tae I’m just so tired I was supposed to only be here for twenty minutes…tops.” You admit as you bury your face in his pillow again. While your cramps were gone for now your lower back throbbed and you whined as you curled tighter into yourself hoping the position would relieve the ache.

“I can send them home right now. Honest. I’ve never seen you like this. I’m worried.” He whispers pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you groan.

“I’m okay just usual period stuff. Don’t send them away I know how excited you are to watch the game with them. I just… I can’t socialize right now I’m so tired Taetae I feel like my eyes will melt out of my head if I keep them open. My energy is zero I’m so sleepy.” You whimper as Taehyung takes his time pushing your hair from your face and caressing your cheeks.

He looks so beautiful kneeling next to you, his brown hair, a fluffy mess atop his head, his eyes widened in worry, his teeth biting into his lip.

“Please don’t send them away. I’m just gonna stay up here for tonight. You can tell them I’m on my period, or sick. Whatever you want.” You sigh as his fingers gently trace your features and you blush under his gaze.

“Fine but at least let me get you comfy then.” He decides as you nod and he motions for you to sit up.

He disappears to the walk-in closet and when he returns he has his arms around his back and is giving you his classic boyish grin that makes your heart pound.

“Pick a hand!” He teases as you grin and immediately pick his left hand.

“Tada!” He chuckled as he showed you the big Tata plush he had hidden behind his back. He takes his time tucking it under your arm and you immediately bury your face in its softness and smile. It smells just like him.

“Don’t you mean tata instead of tada!” You tease as he shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“A hard-working woman and a comedian… how did I get so lucky” He jokes as he doesn’t wait for you to pick his other hand, he brings it from around his back to show you the soft brown sweater he had hidden.

It is your ultimate favorite sweater he owns because when he wears it he looks like a soft cuddly teddy bear.

“Arms up.” He instructs as you do so and he helps you put on the sweater.

You feel cocooned by warmth and love for your boyfriend and you can’t help but grin as he pulls the covers back and tucks you in, making sure Tata is secure under your arm.

“Now instructions for you, get some sleep. I’ll make sure the guys don’t eat all the food and I’ll save you some leftovers. Yoongi’s food always makes anyone feel better. And you-” He says pointing at Tata. “You take care of my girl or else.”

You laugh as you bury your face into the heart-shaped Tata and Taehyung kneels down to kiss your forehead again.

“I love you so much. Get some sleep. I’ll check on you in a bit okay?” He says as you nod and even before he leaves the room you are fast asleep once again.

“Rise and shine my sleeping beauty.” a deep voice sings out as you crack open an eye to see Taehyung standing in the doorway smiling at you.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily as you try to sit up but moan when a sharp cramp shoots through your body.

“Eight at night. The boys just left.” He says coming to keel by your side again.

You rub your eyes with your fists as Tae slowly pulls Tata from your grasp and throws him on the other side of the bed.

“Tata did great.” You tease as Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I’m sure he did but now it’s my turn.”

He helps you sit up and you wince as your body reminds you that you are on your period.

“C’mere to the bathroom we go. I have the shower running.” He explains as he helps you to your feet and assists you with walking to the bathroom.

The room is already full of steam and you can see that he has your fluffiest towel already set up and ready. He is the sweetest most considerate man and your heart feels like it’s glowing under your shirt as his dark eyes gaze into yours affectionately.

“I want you to look in the mirror and watch how beautiful you are while I take off your clothes.” He requests as his long fingers come to the hem of the sweater he let you borrow and he slowly and carefully pulls it over your head.

“My beautiful girl.” He praises you as he delivers a kiss to each of your shoulders before removing your baggy shirt and letting your breasts spring free.

His hands roam down your sides and you suck in a deep breath when they come to play with the strings of your sweatpants.

“Your body is divine.” He coos as his hands slowly push the fabric of the sweatpants down as you stare at your reflection in the mirror.

All his praise is making your cheeks flush and the flush is starting to spread down to your chest as you cross your arms trying to hide how much his words are affecting you.

“Don’t hide that beauty from me my darling.” He growls as he kneels on the cold tile floor and kisses each hipbone right above your underwear and you shiver.

“Please let me do the next part. I don’t want you to see.” You whisper as Tae looks up at you through his fluffy fringe and nods, getting to his feet and turning around to give you privacy.

You discard the pad and jump in the shower soon after, not wanting to mess up the floor and you hear Taehyung hastily get out of his clothes and soon enough he joins you in the shower as well.

You both take your time under the hot water, drinking in each other’s company. You shampoo your hair and rinse and while your conditioner is doing its thing Taehyung shampoos and rinses his hair.

You take turns under the spray and Taehyung even grabs the loofa and offers to clean you off. He is careful with your body as he runs the loofa down your arms and over your chest. You whine and shiver when he runs it along your nipples but he doesn’t linger long before he dips it down your stomach coating your body with sweet-smelling soap.

You try your best to stay still when he soaps up your underarms and just as he is about to soap himself, you take the loofa from him and return the favour.

You run it over his shoulders and the hard expanse of his chest and arms. You can see how much his gym sessions with Namjoon and Jungkook have been paying off as you soap up his biceps and triceps grinning when you see him flex to show off his muscles.

When you work on his armpits he brings his hands up to rake his hair back from his face and he lets out a couple of squeals and giggles as you clean him off.

By the time you are nearly finished his cock is half hard and hanging between his legs. You scoop off some of the soap from the loofa to rub on his cock and Taehyung hisses and jerks into your hand.

“S-Sorry. You are just so unbelievably beautiful. I can’t take it.” He says flustered as you jerk him a couple of times then he moves so he is now under the spray rinsing off the soap.

“I wasn’t done you know.” You tease with a raise of an eyebrow as Taehyung chuckles and raises his arms to scrape his hair back from his face again. All you see are his biceps and how his toned stomach flexs and you feel arousal pool as you take in his wet naked frame.

Water droplets are clinging to his broad shoulders and the steam from the bathroom, plus your hot naked boyfriend seems to take your breath away.

“I know… but this isn’t about me, this is about you. Now c’mere.” He says as he spins you around so the spray is running down your body and over your stomach, easing the cramps as he pushes himself into your backside and hugs you from behind.

“You’re very hard you know.” You teasingly point out as he pushes your hair from your shoulder and kisses your neck softly.

“Don’t worry about it. It should go down eventually. I tend to get hard from my alluring girlfriend and how sexy she looks all wet and naked and mine.” He says lips hot against your skin.

He pushes your body from behind so you are under the spray even more and you hiss when the hot water hits your nipples. They are always so sensitive on your period and the sensation hurts too much as you pull back.

“You okay?” Tae asks as his kisses stop but he keeps his lips hovered over your neck.

“I’m fine the spray is just a lot on my nipples. They are always so sensitive and achy when I’m on my period.” You explain.

Taehyung wastes no time in covering your nipples with his palms, protecting them from the spray as he leans you forward again and the stream runs across his hands and down your body, easing your cramps.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You admit softly as you look down to see Taehyung’s hands cupping you softly as he continues to press kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“You are so beautiful. I could spend my entire lifetime worshiping you.” He growls against your skin as he slowly thrusts his cock into your backside and you whimper when you feel how achingly hard he is.

Without warning his hands begin to play with your breasts, he stays away from the nipple but his lithe fingers knead the sensitive skin and you look down in time to see how gorgeous his hands look as they play with your breasts.

He is still shallowly thrusting his cock into your backside but you can’t take your eyes off his hands. How his veins pop out against the tanned skin as he works you with his skilled fingers, the way his fingers are so long and lean and can cover your entire breast with ease, how his forearms flex under his movements and suddenly you are reminded of all the things he has been able to do to you with these hands and you whimper.

“Fuck Tae you-gotta stop.” You breathe out as his movements slow but he still keeps his unspoken promise of keeping your sensitive nipples out of the spray.

“Everything okay my love?” He asks, his gravelly voice sending a smothering heat down to your core making you throb.

“You are gonna make me horny- we gotta- fuck we gotta stop.” You almost plead as he pulls you harsher into the hard planes of his body and out of the spray, his fingers instantly come to tweak your nipples and you cry out his name in a broken moan as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with being horny. I’m horny. Seriously the sight of your wet, naked body. Fuck you are a divine woman. I don’t think my cock has ever been this fucking hard.” He admits as he pushes it into your backside and you can feel just how horny he is as precum smears along your lower back.

“I’m on my period we-fuck Tae we can’t.” You plead as every nerve, every fiber of your being is telling you to get some friction against your aching clit. Your nipples are so sensitive and Taehyung has only sped up his movements making words almost impossible.

Your backside is arching into his cock, your pussy is throbbing around nothing and you feel so soaked you were surprised it wasn’t running down your legs.

“I’m not going to pressure you but if we were to have period sex wouldn’t the shower be the best place?” He asks lowly in your ear as you shiver even in the heat of the shower.

You turn around to face him to see he is very serious about it and your body is ablaze with need as you take in his dark eyes.

You reach a hand down to encircle his hard cock but he quickly swats your hand away and you look up at him and frown.

“That’s not fair.” You mutter.

“Yeah, it’s not fair that I will get to cum and you won’t because you are unsure about period sex. I don’t find it gross and I’m not weirded out by blood. Please let me do this for you.” He nearly pleads.

You waste no time wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders and bringing him in for a searing kiss. His hard cock is trapped between your slippery bodies and he moans when he feels your soft stomach press into his heated cockhead making it leak more precum that ends up smeared along your lower stomach.

The kiss is all fire and passion and when you reach a hand down to finally circle his cock he moans against your lips and you smile when he throbs in your hand.

You jerk him off, flicking your wrist at the top just the way he likes it and Taehyung is a moaning whining mess above you.

“It feels too good. You gotta slow down.” He begs as you loosen your fist but keep stroking him, loving the feeling of his hard shaft against your palm and how he becomes so wet when you run your thumb over the head of his flushed cock.

You break away from the kiss and Taehyung dips a hand into your center and you freeze, eyes wide and panicked as you stare up at him.

“Sorry just…nervous.” You say using your free hand to grab his wrist to stop him as you both take several deep breaths.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But honestly, it’s just blood. I’m not grossed out.” He promises as you loosen your grip and he dips a long finger into your folds.

Your eyes flutter closed and you rest your head on his chest at the sensation of him running a finger up and down your center. He takes his time with you as if you were a beautiful piece of art he wanted to savor and when he finally circles your clit you cry out against his chest.

“I got you baby. Let me take care of you.” He mutters against your wet hair as you release his cock to hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

Taehyung hums in appreciation as he slowly circles your clit and you spread your legs wider for him. The sensation is unreal as you have never been this sensitive before in your life.

Taehyung dips a finger in and for a moment you wince in worry he will pull away and be disgusted, but he sticks to his promise and curls his finger up to hit that spot inside of you that makes you cry out his name.

While Tae works you open with one hand, the other comes around your body to hold you flush against him. He presses soft kisses to the crown of your head and when he adds another finger your knees buckle, and without missing a beat he grips you tighter.

“I got you my love. My most beautiful treasure. Let go, baby. Let go and cum all over my fingers.” He growls and without warning you do so. You feel your body spasm and if it wasn’t for his strong arm holding you up you were sure you would have fallen to the floor.

Your toes curl against the tile as you cum and Tae whispers praises in your ear as you ride out your high.

By the time you come down, you feel much better, and when he pulls away to stare at you you can’t help but kiss him and thank him over and over again.

Taehyung laughs against your mouth as you are a babbling mess of chanting his name and chanting thank yous as you kiss him harshly pouring all your love you have for him out into this kiss.

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not done with you yet babe. Turn around.” He says with a soft smack to your ass as you do so and brace your hands on the cold tiled wall.

He grabs at his hard cock and runs in through your soaked folds staring at the water running down your back and down your perfect ass cheeks.

You look back to watch him take in your body and you blush under his fiery gaze when his eyes lock onto yours.

“Please Tae.” You beg even though you already had one orgasm it didn’t feel like enough and your body was aching for more as you pushed back into him desperate to get him to fill you up.

You were craving the feeling of his big cock stretching you out and you kept pushing back against him in hopes he would get the hint and slip inside.

“I’m going to be honest I don’t know how long I’m going to last. You were so tight and wet around my fingers I almost came just from fingering you.” He admits with a shy smile as you push back again against his cock impatience getting the best of you.

“Don’t care. Need you to fuck me.” You whine as he chuckles and lines his cockhead up with your entrance.

Taehyung slips in with ease but you groan when you feel how much he is stretching you out and the burn is unbearable as he slowly inches inside.

“Why are you so fucking big.” You cry out when he finally bottoms out and traces small circles on your hips.

“Fuck the way your pussy is squeezing me. F-Fuck you are so tight and wet. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Your pussy is the best cockring I’ll ever have” He growls as you squeeze your eyes shut from the sheer fullness of him.

“I’m not gonna last long, holy fuck baby your pussy is milking my cock already and I haven’t even moved.” He frets as his hands come to knead at your ass and you slowly circle your hips trying to get your body to adjust.

“You are so big Taehyung holy fuck you are gonna rip me in half.” You whine as you slowly rock yourself back and forth on his cock and Taehyung is gritting his teeth and doing everything in his power not to cum all over you within twenty seconds of entering you.

“You are going to squeeze every last drop of cum I have out of my cock. Relax baby. Big deep breaths.” He almost begs as he hauls you up so your back is flushed against his front and he uses his big hands to play with your nipples.

The way his hands were tantalizingly dancing across your breasts and nipples had you moaning out his name and thrusting back against his cock. The sting was overpowered by a sense of fiery need and he quickly got the hint and began to thrust up into you with force.

You splayed your hands out against the tiles to stop yourself from falling forward as Taehyung thrust deep inside of your body, growling against your ear and letting his fingers flick and play with your nipples in such a way it turned your body to puddy.

“Baby I want to fuck you all night long but I can’t… seriously your pussy is so warm and sh-shit so wet.” He growls out picking up speed and making you cry out his name as you move your hips to meet his thrust.

The pleasure is overpowering, it is aflame and you are burning up as you feel your stomach clench and your body swim with desire.

“C-Close.” You cry out as Taehyung tweaks your nipple and you cum around his cock. Moaning his name and arching your back as your walls clamp down and Taehyung grits his teeth not wanting to cum inside of your body as he lets you ride out your high.

Your hands are slipping along the tiles and you nearly fall forward as your legs give out but Taehyung catches you and pulls his cock out, eyes wild with desperation as you take the hint and sink to your knees.

“Cum on my face Tae. Paint me a pretty picture all over my face.” You whine as his fingers grip his cock and he begins to stroke it frantically.

You kneel on the floor with your tongue open and you flutter your eyelashes at him as he works his cock. All it takes is for you to cup your breasts in your small hands and push them together for Taehyung to lose it.

He moans loudly and his cock spurts cum all over your lips and cheeks. You sigh in ecstasy as Taehyung continues to jerk his throbbing cock which has more cum falling from it and this time it falls right into your open mouth.

You swallow whatever you can and when he comes down from his high he stares at you in utter disbelief as you get up off the ground to rinse the cum from your cheeks, chin, and neck.

“Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit that was so hot. Fuck.” He mutters under his breath as you turn to face him and you wrap your arms around him leaning your head on his chest and smiling when you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

“Thank you Taetae.” You whisper as you lift your head and his hands come up to cup your cheeks.

“If anything I should be thanking you. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen holy shit.”

You giggle and finally turn off the water as you step out of the shower and dry off.

“Our water bill is going to be insane this month.” You tease as Taehyung finally seems to get his bearings and he steps out of the shower as well.

“Oh, it will be! You can bet your ass we are doing that at least six more times before your period is over.” He teases eye gleaming as you shake your head and swat him with the towel.

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[miyacults]

red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter i

Summary: As the sun sets over Winter's Reach, Lord James 'Bucky' Barnes expresses his feelings toward his arranged marriage to the youngest of The Black Widow sisters. Meanwhile, the bride arrives at the Reach.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 926

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A/N: I'm out here writing chapter after chapter when I should be having a writing break. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love |Let me know if you want to be tagged specifically for this series.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The sun dipped below the horizon of Winter’s Reach, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls. In a secluded corner of the estate, near the training ground stood James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Prince Steven Rogers, side by side. The evening breeze rustled their cloaks as the two friends spoke in hushed tones, their words carried by the wind.

“I never wanted a bride,” Bucky’s face was set in a frown, his eyes dark and brooding as he confessed. “This union, this marriage… it’s a chain, not a blessing.” His voice was low and edged with bitterness. 

The future king looked at his friend with a mixture of sympathy and firmness. “I understand, Buck. However, alliances are crucial, especially now. House Romanoff’s support is vital for the stability of the kingdom.” 

Scoffing, Bucky’s expression turned cold. “I know. I know it’s about duty and the greater good. I’ve spent my life fighting, not having to deal with courtly niceties and forced smiles.” 

Steve’s gaze softened with understanding. “She has a gentle heart, unknown to the Black Widows of Belova. She wants to make this work, to support you and your house.” 

Anger flashed over Bucky’s eyes. “Support me? She’s a stranger, Steve. A little pawn in this game we’re playing. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure as hell don’t need her support.” 

Choosing his next words carefully, Steve took a silent moment. “I get it, Bucky. But sometimes, we don’t get to choose our paths. You might even find that she’s more than just a pawn.” he nudged his friend's shoulder. 

Bucky turned away, his jaw tightening as he stared out at the darkening sky. “Time is one thing I have little patience for.” He felt a flicker of doubt amidst his bitterness. 

~

The journey had been long and arduous, cold biting through your layers as you rode through the frost-covered landscape. The reach loomed ahead, a fortress of stone and vibranium, standing resolute against the approaching winter. 

Dismounting your horse, your legs ached from the ride. You looked up at the imposing structure. A sense of trepidation settled in your stomach the moment the gates opened. His expression as cold as the frost beneath you, greeted you in the courtyard. You could only assume this was James.

“Welcome to Winter’s Reach,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. His gaze was sharp and assessing as he looked you up and down. “I trust your journey was uneventful.” 

You nodded, trying to hide your unease. “It was long, but the scenery made it manageable.” 

His eyes flickered away, disinterest evident. “My father has arranged for your quarters to be prepared. You’ll find everything you need there.” 

“Thank you, Lord James.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, annoyance crossing his features. “Let’s not pretend this is anything but a political maneuver. Your gratitude is unnecessary.” 

“I understand,” you swallowed hard, his harsh words feeling a sting. “Still, I appreciate the gesture.” 

Turning on his heel, Bucky did not say a word as he led you into the Reach. The silence grew heavy and uncomfortable. A chill seeped into your bones as you looked over the interior, with sparse decorations and dark lighting casting shadows on the stone walls. Depicting past battles and family crests, tapestries hung forlornly.

Stopping abruptly once inside your quarters, he spun around to face you. His eyes pierced through you like ice, holding a brewing storm within them. “This is not what I wanted,” he hissed, leaning down until he was inches from your face. “I never asked for a bride, least of all one forced upon me.” 

You flinched with every word spat, you tried to steady yourself between him and the door. Your heart raced at the proximity, but you fought to remain composed. “I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t choose this either, my lord.” 

His lips curled into a sneer. “Sorry? Save your apologies. They mean nothing here.” He towered over you as he straightened up. The tension between you was thick and suffocating.

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. “I understand your frustration. But we are in this together–”

Scoffing he cut you off, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Together? Don’t fool yourself. We are bound by duty, nothing more. Do not expect anything beyond that from me.” 

His coldness ached your heart, but you nodded, you could not let his bitterness break your spirit. “Of course, my lord. I’ll do my best to respect your wishes.” 

Without another word, he brushed by you as he walked out of the quarters. His footsteps echoed through the cold, empty hall. You were left standing alone in the vast, unwelcoming space as his presence seemed to pull all warmth from the room. 

Watching his retreating figure, you realized that earning the man’s trust and affection would be a long and arduous journey. You remained determined, despite his resentment, to break through his defenses. Believing that beneath his hardened exterior, lay a heart and soul worth understanding and loving. 

Making your way further into your quarters, the cold stone was a stark contrast to the warmth you hope to bring into this union. A simple bed, a wooden chest, and a small fireplace were the only comforts. You silently vowed to be patient as you tried to settle into your new surroundings. You longed to show Bucky that this forced marriage could become something more. 

For now, you had to navigate the cold terrain of Winter’s Reach, both outside and within the walls of the Reach. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

I’m not sure if you’re into a/b/o but I think you’ve written stuff about heat in the past but if this ask is too much feel free to delete it.

I don’t know much about a/b/o myself but I’m pretty sure there’s this thing where if the omega isn’t in a good environment then their heat will like shut off or something? But imagine that with the angels of WHB. Like they’ve never had a heat before and then after Christmas and after you touch them for the first time their bodies get confused and think “oh is this a good time” and boom it’s their first heat and they need you to deal with it cause I mean it IS your fault.

Yes I love heats! Heat cycles are hot and cute!🖤🤍

Yeah so irl animals (including humans) will stop going into heat/ovulating, if they aren’t in a safe environment, they won’t have a heat/ovulate and it will continue until they are in a ‘safe’ environment!

So it makes sense since they’ve been at war for hundreds of years, they’ve never even experienced an orgasm, and given their forced to wear cock cages and their body wouldn’t understand why, their bodies assumed they simply have chosen not to ‘mate’ since the environment is unsafe. So once we open the flood gates, their unable to stop their heat cycle, they’ve never felt this kind of pleasure and frustration until they met you.

So once their heat starts, they think you can fix it since YOU started it, that’s only fair right?

-

Intro:

After Christmas the angels were returned to Heaven and exhausted, they just want to sleep. They clean themselves off thinking it’s best to just sleep and not think about it, as every time they think about it, they start getting hard and can’t ignore it…

They try their best and come morning, they are more h*rny then they’ve ever been in their entire life. Nothing is going on in their head except for wanting to find you and make you fix this!

They’d just need to isolate you…the thought of waiting sent a heavy ache between their legs.

They’d just have to go to hell and fetch you…

Gabriel

Cw cock cage, heats, slight kidnapping

-

He hated this…he could barely fly, needing to stop every few minutes to catch his breath. It’s infuriating…all the more reason he needs to find you, he can’t take this! He’s struggling to walk, fly and talk! The entire time his damn dick wouldn’t stay down.

It was so hard to avoid demons too, panting and flapping your wings like a flightless bird leaves him easy to spot, which means he needs to use back streets…which leaves it harder for him to spot you…

It took hours and it was agonizing…as soon as he heard your name, he felt his cock straining and it was horrible, he hurried to the demon he heard your name from…two demons were talking to you and his heart skipped a beat realizing this was the perfect opportunity…even as his mind is foggy and all he can think about it dropping to his knees and begging you for help…

He sees Satan, looking away talking to the little red devil and decides to follow through with his first thoughts…he snuck close to you, grabbed you fast pretending to be playing with you can’t see his face, he took into the sky as fast as he could, barely holding the two of you up. The screams you let out almost has him land to check if he somehow hurt you, but seeing Satan is now looking his way, he decides to keep carrying you, he can’t risk losing you when he’s this close to having you!

He’s holding you tightly and goes higher and higher until you can’t even see the demons below. He groans as you struggle against him. “P-put me down!” You scream, while you’re struggling against him, he whines and is forced to land on what honestly looks look a floating platform, leaving you with nowhere to go.

Gabriel collapses beside you, an arm wrapped around you as he smells you, pressing himself against you with a purr. “I-I’m sorry. Y-you started this, f-fix it and I’ll return you, u-unharmed!” He moans out, rubbing against you, his cock cage snagging on his clothes leading to him undressing in front of you. You’re surprised but you imagine whatever mental state he’s in, he’s past being embarrassed.

“W-what did I start?” You ask and in response he gestures to his straining cock, the cage appearing far too tight…looking like it’s crushing his manhood, it’s dripping so much you could easily make a cup of…well angel cum. “Oh, you…got aroused and came here? I suppose Hell is more accepting of a horny angel-“

Gabriel cries out. “N-no! W-well yes but, it’s hard! It ain’t go down! It feels likes…what you did on Christmas…please just, do that again?” Gabriel pleads, looking to you hopefully, you…recognize the look, you’ve seen it in Satan…you blush and smile.

“You’re in heat, y-you…you’ve never experienced it before?” You ask curiously, you guess maybe…you awoken something in him. “I’ll help…but you’re returning me right afterwards.” You demand, the angel quickly nods, guiding your hand to the cage.

Michael

Cw: cock cages, heats

-

Michael was half limping through Hell…his wings were out, trembling, he didn’t bother hiding them, any demon would recognize him why bother hiding?

He attempts to avoid being seen but doesn’t avoid a few fights trying to find you, thigh it did work in his favor when the commotion brought you, along side Mammon to him. His eyes lock on you in a instant. He abandons the fight and launches himself towards you, even in his clumsy state he avoids getting hit aside by Mammon.

By letting himself slam into you, his two other sets of wings appear a moment later and you are both airborne while he tries to adjust you in his grip like your a squirming dog. He tries to shush you, trying to figure out where he’s going to take you for this…

He ends up deciding…you’re coming with him to Heaven, he lands on a quiet area, that seems more like a side street. He collapses as soon as there’s solid ground beneath you both, he’s considerate enough to land next to you with only an arm around you so he doesn’t crush you.

He grabs you as you try to get up. “N-now…you can help me in peace.” He groans out, letting go of you to unzip his pants, letting his caged cock slip into your vision. You pause, it’s…dripping a lot…almost like he’s setting himself in front of you.

“W-wow…” You murmur, enjoying the sight, though you’ve heard enough from the demons to know clear signs of heat. “So…you’re cage…is in the way. I think taking it off will help but…” You trail off. You only got Rapheal’s off because if a Christmas miracle…

Raphael

Cw: heats, spitting on a d!ck

-

He basically crash lands into Hell, he surprising shows up in the same district as you, though it’s likely because he’d had plenty of time to scent you during the kiss you two shared on Christmas. Raphael feels his body heat up at that memory.

‘I want more of that!’ He hissed to himself, he let any devils see him, he knew the more devils that see him, the odds a king would show would get higher, and with the kings there’s a chance you follow!

Not was flawed logic but he only had your phone number, not an address to look for you and he’s certain a call asking to meet up alone isn’t a good idea!

Or maybe it is but that’s awkward…

Raphael was still trying to figure up how to tell you to help him, he was so hard, it’s basically painful! Yet…it’s kinda of good, as much as he hated the constant arousal, in his own masochist way, he wanted more, but he wanted you before he was overwhelmed.

Raphael hears your voice distinctly over the screams of civilians panicking over an angel walking through the streets, he takes odd into the sky and quickly surveys the surrounding area.

He spots you fast, hiding behind one of the kings subjects, Raphael didn’t bother looking at who it could be, or even which king was after him. The King was between him, the subordinate and you. He just needed to…

Raphael snorted in frustration at the predicament and knowing the king can’t fly, he jolts out of the way, wings beating way harder than they should in his arousal driven state. Once he ‘passes’ the king he suddenly dives and swoops past the demon guarding you, when he grabs you and begins taking into the air, he can hear you panting.

He feels a little bad realizing he knocked the wind out of you from the speed he was going. He will make it up to you later, maybe, but for now he just needs you away from the pesky demons!

By the time he actually lands, you have no idea where you are, it’s like a cove by a forest edge, secluded, silent, no way to get here without flying, so you were trapped with him.

Raphael let’s go of you once he’s on solid ground, letting you stumble away from him while he slowly approaches you like you’re a scared dog. “Calm down, Descendant of Adam. If I had wanted to hurt you I would have dropped you or done worse. J-just deal with…this,” He gestures to the tent in his pants. “And we will be done, alright?”

He says with a blush trying to hide his embarrassment while hoping you will agree. You look between him, the surrounding are and his erection. His clothes aren’t helping him, showing off his body and how excited his is, though you doubt he’s practiced controlling when he gets hard, you doubt he even knows he can do that.

“And if I refuse?” You say, grinning as the angel looked shocked, almost like he didn’t consider you’d say no. “What will you do? You think I’m just gonna jerk you off everytime you get hard?” You sneer. “Do it yourself.”

Raphael’s eyes widen.

“W-wait, that pleasure you gave me…I can experience on my own??” Raphael looked so confused. He quickly undressed and threw his clothes aside. “Show me! Now!”

You laughed and blushed, much to the angels confusion, while he was flustered, naked and rock hard, you were fully clothed, blushing a bit and beyond confused. “Geez…what’s gotten into you silly?”

You playfully teased and looking up at Raphael, it hit you.

He was giving you bedroom eyes, his cock is dripping even though it’s untouched, it looks to be pulsing to the beat of his heart, giving you an idea of how aroused he was.

“Oh, you’re in heat! If…you promise to do what as I say and not hurt me, I’ll help, deal?” Raphael nodded to your rules fast. “Alright. Stay still.” You get up and walk over, waning over, you spit on his cock, earning a whorish moan. His cock bounced upwards like it was begging for more.

You grab his cock with your non dominant hand and lazily stroke his cock, he’s instantly whining, bucking his hips and moaning. He is jumping your hand quite roughly, with a mischievous grin, your free hand reaches down and light squeezes his balls and holds them there so he can’t thrust.

Raphael loudly whines, squirming as you slowly stroke his cock. “See what I’m doing? If you gently rub it like this, it’ll help your aching fade.” You say, grinning as the angel trembled in bless and overstimulation. Poor guy’s cock is sk sensitive!

[irishmammonagenda]

Hi! Can i request MC with older brothers (i have four older brothers 😂) who are very protective of their little sister, and reaction of demon brothers, when MC wants to introduce them to her siblings?

hiya! ofc u can, im so sorry this is so late i saw it in my askbox like a week a week ago then forgot about it 😭😭 and then went away for easter and forgot abt it again😭😭

grma for the ask <3 fic dividers by @cafekitsune

MC With Older Brothers-Obey Me Brothers x Reader

When you had first been transferred to the Devildom, the inital shock of the new environment, the fact that demons and angels were actually real, the fact the fact that magic was actually real had made you forget about the reactions of your family back home upon realising yoou had just disappeared without a trace. It took you around a month to even remember, after the shock had worn off, and you had stopped living in survival mode. You hastily travelled to the Demon Lord´s Castle, and requested a formal visit to your family.

They were livid. Relieved but livid. Your parents, who were workaholics hadn´t noticed until around halfway through the second week. Your older brothers however, noticed the first day. And oh boy, did they want answers.

Going through Barbatos' portal was never a truly pleasant experience, although it wasn't unpleasant either. It was like that feeling in the pit of your abdomen when you're pushed too high on a swingset, but to a lesser extent. It almost looked like stars as the insides of the vortex falshed before your eyes before fading to reveal the park that you grew up near.

The reds and oranges of the leaves shone sparkling against the reddening sky with the morning dew. The early birds chirped, diving for worms, leaves fell gently down to the ground. You made your way home.

The familiar white door stood out like the gates of the Celestial Realm, your own personal paradise, everything you knew before the rug was pulled under you. You tried the doorhandle. Locked. Sighing, you looked under the entrance mat for the spare key and unlocked the door, walking into the hall. You had entered the kitchen and saw Evan, your second eldest brother making a sandwhich.

"Hiya!" You greet him. "Whatcha makin', Evs?"

Evan, who had just picked up his plate turned around and dropped it, his jaw slacked open, eyes wide. He stared at you, not even caring that his sandwich had fallen. "Y-you…where the fuck have you been?!"

"Uh...I-"

"Y'know what? Don't answer that yet." He steps away from you, moving out of the kitchen to the base of the stairs. "Sammie! Ben!" Evan shouts a few times, before hearing a pair of 'what?!'s back. "Get your asses down here now!"

Soon enough, reluctant thuds sound from the top of the stairs, getting louder as two of your brothers thunder down the stairs, you gulp. Lord Diavolo, you were in for it now.

Samuel appears downstairs first, the baggy MCR shirt he always wears to lounge around half hidden by his stained jacket. Ben follows soon after, phone in hand, no doubt open on the game he had been testing out. They both stall when they see you, Ben trips, and starts to fall, taking Samuel down with him.

“I-…MC..” Samuel swallows thickly. “W-where have you been…”

Ben parrots this.

You gulp. Adam—your oldest brother—would no doubt be the worst. And he wasn’t even home yet!

When Adam, your oldest brother did return from his date with his girlfriend (as you found out), he had demanded answers, and a hug. You try to explain it away, saying you found a scholarship at a college in another country, you must've just forgot to mention it! Silly you! Atleast that's what you were telling your older brothers, they didn't need to know you were taken to hell and the scholarship wasn't too far from the truth!

"Why didn't you visit? Or call? Or anything?" Was a question you heard parroted back to you multiple times.

"I...uh...it was just the craziness of it all....I forgot to call..." You rub the back of your neck. "I had to get a new phone anyway..." You say, giving them your number. It was a reasonable excuse. They couldn't exactly argue with it.

Samuel grabs your hand, the rough callouses of his fingers comforting. Permanent dents from his mastery of the guitar, he swings your arm back and forth, reminding himself that you're not in a ditch somewhere. "As long as you're safe...."

Evan huffs, Adam stares at you, eyes following your every move, he grumbles, "You're coming home every holiday you can. And calling us regularly. No more dropping off the face of the earth."

"Haha alright!" You laugh nervously, he didn't need to know that you technically did fall off the face of the earth.

"And I want to visit this College." Adam adds, Evan nods in agreement, as do the two younger of the brothers.

Shit.

Ben stretches, before sitting forward. "So tell us all about your dorm. Got any roommates?"

And boy, did that cause a few heated discussions. Though in the end you got away pretty much scott free. Though you had to visit bi-monthly, and call atleast bi-weekly.

On one of these bi-monthly visits, you'd decided to bring one of your 'roommates' along with you....

Just how would that go?....

LUCIFER

"Oh?~ Care to repeat that, MC?"

It had been a busy day in the Devildom for the Avatar of Pride. He was finishing up on paperwork when you came into his office asking him to come to the next visit to your brothers with you.

He acts a bit cocky over it, with his signature smirk and all, but agrees almost instantly.

Despite the fact that you asked HIM to meet your family, and that he was feeling quite flustered, he still somehow managed to make your cheeks burn and make you feel much more flustered about the situation.

"Hi everyone, this is Lucif-Lucius...! He's one of my roommates!"

"Lucius?"

"...My parents were Greek."

"Yeah, Ben, his parents were Greek don't be racist."

Lucifer relates to Adam on the sole basis that they're both the eldest, though he does feel second hand embarrassment anytime said brother would do anything a little too like him.

Overall its a pleasant time, your brothers were quite charmed by the Avatar of Pride, and it makes your pact mark buzz.

Lucifer fights the urge to place his palms over his face and re-contemplate his entire life and every single action he'd ever taken as he watches Adam, your eldest brother, lecture Samuel, the youngest of your elder brothers. The older man is glaring exasperatedly, Samuel hides his hands in his pocket, clearly uninterested. You watch on and feel a sort of deja vu, so does Lucifer. Does he seriously look like that when he gives out lectures? No wonder his brothers are so unruly! You pat his back from where you both sit on the sofa, he glares at you, though there's no bite to it. The second hand embarrassment is very strong.

MAMMON

"WHA- ehem...I-i mean of course ye'd want te intreduce yer b-brothers to the great M-mammon...!"

If Mams has a tail it'd be wagging like a helicopter propeller thingy.

You want HIM to visit your family?!

He's super tempted to go back and buy the engagement ring he'd saw in a jewellery shop window when shopping now!

He had been too nervous at the time....was he moving too fast...?

He's a nervous wreck, all the way there he's muttering things you can't understand in irish (gaeilgeoir mams agenda)

You can pick up the word 'focáil' (fuck) being thrown about a lot.

What de ye mean MC? He IS calm! Calmer than the sea on a stormy day...but thats still sort of calm!

The name Mammon isn't really known to anyone outside of the occult, so he doesn't change it.

"Mammon?" Evan says raising a brow, "What kind of a name is that?"

"He's Irish Evs don't be racist."

"Oh."

The dinner is quite awkward, but in the end, he somehow manages to win over your brothers.

and hey, if Ben gets more donations from people when he streams, Adam gets more costumers for his personal training, and Samuel and Evan get promotions at their jobs, well he didn't mean to! Honest!

Mammon sits at the dinner table with about as much nervousness as a schoolboy waiting outside the principal's office, he answers every question with a stutter, and tries his best to remember his table manners, your brothers are eyeing him suspiciously, until a clang sounds through the small kitchen, you had dropped your fork. Mammon perks up, happy to be 'useful' to you, "I'll get it!" and he practically dives down to get the utensil before washing it off and giving it to you. Your brothers relax slightly, deeming him too whipped for you to truly be a scumbag.

LEVIATHAN

"You want ME to WHAT?!"

bros panicking more than mammon☠️

Are you sure you want a stinky smelly otaku like me to-😰😰😰😰😰

It takes ages to calm him down enough, then he just feels flustered.

This reminds him of an anime with an insanely long name!

When you arrive at your house, he's so fidgety and nervous someone give this man a hug (dont he'll scream)

You introduce him as Levi, no one bats an eye to that one, hooray!

the atmosphere is very awkward until he notices the sticker on Ben's phonecase.

He finds out that your brother is a streamer, MC how could you never tell him?!

its a lot less awkward a lot more nerdy now.

"O-oh well I see where you're coming from, the mechanics and graphics on the game were great, but the lore needed work!" Levi says, stuttering far less than you'd expect him to. Ben nods, "I mean, I just kind of stayed for the boss fights, but yeah the lore was a bit..." He makes a face. Leviathan leans over, eyes sparkling, you admire them freely, normally he'd notice by now and be too flustered to continue talking. "Yeah! It had so much potential! But it just seemed so rushed!" You look around the room, Adam and Evan are conversing amongst eachother quietly, whilst Sam is trying his best to follow the conversation that Levi and Ben are having.

SATAN

"Oh? I'd be honoured..."

He's giddy, you wanted him of all of his brothers to come with you? Take that Lucifer!

This reminds him of when the love interest brings the protagonist to meet their family!

He reads up on the scenes as a sort of revision, though his natural charm is going to win them over anyway...or maybe not...

"Hello my name's Satan." He reaches out to shake Adam's hand.

Adam swallows, "Satan?"

Satan chuckles, having made a rookie mistake in his nervousness, "My parents were...devout satanists...I've had a hard life..."

Samuel pats his shoulders, "Oh you poor thing..."

He's honestly quite the gentleman, your brothers quite like him, despite his 'unfortunate' name.

"So S-satan..." Adam begins, "What was it like growing up with Satanist parents?" Satan sets his for down, "Oh, not as bad as one would think..." he quickly bullshits, "I did grow up in a very gothic style house though.." Your brothers nod, Evan intterupts, "So did you ever sacrifice any cats?" Satan grips his knife tightly, you feel rage bubble up in his pact mark. "No, satanists--atleast sane satanists--don't do that..." "Oh right..." Evan raises his hands in defense, "Just curious." "Oh no you're fine..." He says smoothly.

ASMODEUS

"Oh my Devil!~ I'd love to!"

Posts about it to his devilgram.

He's geniunely honoured, and sososososo excited.

"Hey guys, this is Asmodeus!"

"..Asmodeus?"

"...His parents are french..."

"Poor thing..."

ofc he wins them over, who do you think he is?

Adam loves him now, and Asmo is his goto for relationship advice.

Adam growns, looking at his phone, you give him a knowing look, "Trouble in Paradise?" "I forgot about our anniversary coming up! It's tomorrow!" He looks geniunely stressed. "There's no way I can get a restaurant reservation in time!" He says, stressing about his upcoming anniversary, it was his turn to do something. He didn't want to disappoint his girlfriend. Asmo shrugs, "So don't." Adam looks at him incredulously. "Excuse me?" "Don't go to a restaurant...the weather forecast says it'll be nice tomorrow, do a picnic or something." Adam gapes his mouth, breathlessly replying, "Yeah that could work...that could work..." A day later, Adam rings you, the picnic was a success! He demands Asmo's number.

BEELZEBUB

"Oh? Yeah MC I'd love to." :D

He's a little bit nervous, but happy that you asked him to go

Plus there's food involved.

Things that are important to you + you + food? He's in heaven (figuratively, last time he was in heaven he got thrown out, literally thrown)

Overall he's really sweet, has to eat a lot before he gets there so he doesn't accidentally eat one of your brothers.

"Hi I'm Beel."

"Beel?"

"He's Russian Evan, don't be racist." You bullshit, Beel looks at you, then smiles because he's looking at you :D

Your brothers love him, he's such a gentle giant.

Beel smiled happily, "This food is amazing." He says, closed eyed smile. "Thanks!" Evan grinned, "Cooked it myself!" Samuel scoffs, "No you didn't you microwaved it." Evan hits him over the head, "Shut up." He grumbles. Beel smiles again, they remind him so much of his own brothers.

BELPHEGOR

"No."

"What do you mean no?" :(

"I'm not going."

"Please."

"No."

"Pleaseee."

"Still no." He groans, putting his pillow over his face.

"I'll just have to ask Lucifer then..."

He jumps up. "Like fuck you will...c'mon, we have a family dinner to attend."

As per usual he is a bastard.

The waling talking definition of a bastard.

Your brothers hate him at first, but as the night goes on, they find out he's actually kind of funny.

"This is Belphie!"

"Belphie?"

"He's Russian don't be racist." You lie.

"Poor thing."

Belphie glares at you.

Belphie groans into his pillow, finally home, he drags you and pulls you onto the bed. Holding you in a vice like grip. "I'm never doing that again." He says tiredly, using you as a teddy bear to go to sleep. Bastard.

im experimenting with post designs :D

'gaeilgeoir' means irish speaker, i've seen it spelt other ways tho

[dietmountaindewb8by]

Chapter One

Into the Abyss

warnings: five just being kinda crazy, herb not being as nice a guy as you might assume

please tell me if you’d like to be tagged ❗️ ❗️

tag list: @lv9su ; @groovydazephantom

Five was very loud when he wanted to be, he realized as he walked through the winding halls of The Commission, watching his employees cower and duck their heads into their files or pretend to fix their clothes.

None of that mattered then, however. He reached into his pocket for that very familiar key that he had used every single day he had been in The Commission. The key to the Infinite Switchboard.

Just so he could see your face again, even for a moment. Maybe even find you if he could.

Sometimes he would come across old memories and dive into them. Oh, how beautiful you were. How you smiled and how you laughed and how you were always so kind. To him and to everyone. 

His beautiful, beautiful girl. An angel among demons that crawled beneath her feet–he was a demon that would crawl beneath her feet anyway. A devil cast to the deepest pits of hell searching for that which could bring him salvation, if only for a moment.

Five Hargreeves wanted nothing more than to hold you to his chest, to tuck you into his arms safe and sound and never let you out again. Because his arms were where you belonged–where you still do belong. They were wide open for the ghost of you, gates to a rotting manor that only welcomed its original owner.

You could rip his heart from his chest and he would forgive you in a heartbeat. 

The door creaked open and he quickly locked it behind him. The only other person with a key was Herb, and he wouldn’t dare disturb the owner of the Commission in his incredibly important research.

Even if that research wasn’t important to the company, per se. It was important to him. And if it was important to him then surely the world would fall apart if it wasn’t completed.

I would tear it apart if I couldn’t reach this at the very least, he thought, sitting down in the very same chair he did every day, flipping on the switch that reintroduced him to his sins, to what he needed to do.

Your smiling face greeted him, and for a second–just as always–he smiled back. He turned a dial beneath his right finger, looking back to the dreaded day he lost you. 

November 22, 1963 was a day to behold, that was for sure. It was brighter than usual, not one cloud lingering in the sky and the sun blared down upon the mild Texas landscape.

His gun was aimed for where the president would ride by as you sat beside him, picking at the grass.

“Be careful, Sweetheart,” he said, and you looked up at him for a moment, eyes void. “You’ll ruin your sundress.”

“I think the sundress is the least of our worries today, Five.”

He sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

Five minutes later amidst the chaos that was taking place on the other side of the fence, he took your hand and brought it to his lips before diving through the hole he had ripped in the time-space continuum. 

And then you were gone, stolen from him by the cruel fingers of time.

Five jumped when a knock on the door sounded, his fingers flying to the knife he had stuffed in his pocket at all times.

“Mr. Hargreeves?” Herb called. “Sir?”

Five sighed, dropping his knife before gliding the chair over to the door, unlocking it. “Come in, Herb.”

Herb stepped in through the door before staring at the mess that had become the Infinite Switchboard. Papers were scattered everywhere–some with half-drawn faces, others with numbers and symbols he could only begin to understand. And then there was Five; clean shaven as always, but his eyes held something either dead or dangerously alive.

Either way, he knew there was nothing but trouble to be had with Five Hargreeves.

Nothing but trouble.

“Mr. Hargreeves,” Herb said, watching Five return to his pages, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing, Herb.”

Herb’s eyes flicked to the screen, to you. You in the yellow sundress. You who had cried in Dot’s arms one too many times to count.

You who had successfully escaped Five Hargreeves and fallen into a new hell.

“Trying to find her, Sir?” Herb said with a chuckle.

Five’s jaw ticked before he turned to the smaller man. “You have something to say, Herb? Something funny?”

“Nothing at all, Sir.” He shrugged, before taking a shaky step away from the man. “Just that you’ve been looking so hard and her files have been with us all along.”

Five’s heart jumped. He dove for Herb, taking him by the lapel of his jacket and pulling him up to eye level. 

“Herb,” he said sweetly. “Old friend. Tell me where the fuck those files are.”

Herb gulped. “We have them all. We watch them on Friday nights. They’re quite entertaining–I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“I want them. I want them all–and whenever a new one comes in, I want that too. I’ll decide if they’re entertaining or not.”

“Of course,” Herb whispered before being thrown to the ground, scampering out of the room as soon as he could.

And for the first time in a long time, Five smiled.

[backmuscles21]

Finally Found You

Tonowari x Reader x Ronal

Summary: Jake and Tonowari find your body washed up on the shore, it's a forest Na'vi's body. Once Jake sees your face, he remembers you and it scares him. You were blue but you never had a Na'vi body. Ronal nurses you back to health and Tonowari shows you around. You told Jake about all of Ardmore's plans and what had happened, only you didn't know how you ended up on the Metkayina shore beaten to a pulp. Tonowari and Ronal end up falling for you, and once you mate with them, you'll do anything to protect your family, even kill again.

Warnings: smut, canon typical violence, self-esteem issues, bisexual reader, mating rituals, hurt/comfort

The last thing you remembered was dark, it was pitch black. You feel like maybe there were waves, maybe you heard waves, but maybe it was just your mind making things up in the coldness of dark and lonely silence.

Jake and Tonowari were going over some of the plans that the warriors and hunters would be going over, they were deep in conversation when they heard kids screaming. Jake and Tonowari turned around to see mothers holding onto their kids, they both walked closer to the shore.

It was a forest Na’vi body, the body was female and completely naked, it also looked pretty bruised up from the sight of it. Tonowari and Jake pulled the body from the water and covered it in a blanket. When they flipped you onto your back, Jake was shocked, he knew you. He stumbled back, he quite literally saw the face of a ghost.

“Are you okay?” Tonowari asked Jake seeing the look on his face.

Jake nodded; he couldn’t form words. You were there when home tree went down, you and Trudy were in her helicopter. You left after they did; you gave them word Quaritch was coming and stayed to help. You and Trudy died when her helicopter went down. You were Marines and a Na’vi sympathizer, but you never had an avatar. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know what to think.

“Jake?” Tonowari asked again, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“I knew her, the face. I knew her as a sky person. When she was also a sky person. It doesn’t make sense. She died; I saw her die. She was always on the outside but she was never blue. I don’t know what happened.”

Tonowari squatted down by your face, despite all the bruising, you were quite pretty. That’s when he felt it, your warm breath on his cheek. It was barely there but he stood up and looked at Jake.

“She’s still alive, I felt her breathe. There her chest is rising and falling ever so slightly. Help me take her to the Tshaik’s tent.”

Tonowari and Jake took you to the Tshaik’s tent and Ronal looked at what was wrong.

“We will leave her here to rest and recover. I don’t know what happened to her but it looks like she was beaten within an inch of her life. Her body will take time to recover. She’ll be lucky to wake up in the next few days,” Ronal said.

However, in the next few days, you woke up.

Ronal was mixing some herbs, you sat up and took the deepest breath Ronal has ever heard, like your lungs had never known what oxygen was. You looked around, your eyes widened when you saw Ronal.

“What happened?” You asked quietly after staring for a moment.

Ronal came over to you, “you look better now that you’re awake. I will get the boys.”

“Who?” you questioned as she left.

Moments later, Tonowari and Jake followed through the opening with Ronal.

“Y/N,” Jake said.

“Jake?” You sat up more and hugged him. “Jake, what’s going on?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Last I saw you; you went down in Trudy’s burning helicopter.”

“I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“There was this project, Project Phoenix, I signed up for it back when we were at Hell’s Gate, long before home tree went down. They selected certain marines to get brain scans and then we’d use them to learn and fight fire with fire. A couple of months ago, I woke up with the memories of y/n. I’ve always loved the people but you made me fall in love with the Na’vi even more. I forgot all about the project and they didn’t remember about me switching sides, clearly. I did but only some of it, obviously, I didn’t know how I died or if I did at all. General Ardmore is who we’d answer to, me, Quaritch, Wainfleet, Zdog, Walker, Fike, Ja, Prager, Warren, Mansk, Zhang, and Brown. We were to go boots on the ground in the rainforest and look for you, we went out like twice. We never found you. last thing I remember was heading back to the base, a helicopter was coming for us and then it was lights out.”

“Well, they did. Or they found some of my kids at least. That's why I'm here. However, they beat you pretty badly I think and stripped you and threw you in the ocean. Probably thought they killed you.”

“I think I wish they did,” you looked up at Jake, tears starting to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m an abomination. I died; I don’t get second chances. I’m on the bad guy’s side. Jake – I don’t want this. They brought us all back to do their bidding. I’m not a lap dog, I’m not kissing ass again,” you felt the tears roll down your cheeks.

“You’re with us now. You don’t have to go back. You can be a warrior with us now.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t wanna live like this. I don’t want to fight again. I was bred to fight and if I’m using this second chance, I’m not killing again.”

“There are many jobs here that you could do. You don’t have to waste this chance.”

Tonowari looked at you and smiled, “you are welcome to stay. We could always use the help.”

“Thank you. And thank you for saving me,” you looked at Tonowari and smiled as another tear fell down your cheek.

“You’re welcome. I can show you to your mauri.”

You nodded, you stood up and saw you were in traditional Metkayina garb. You walked with him along the bouncy path, you looked around as you walked. This place was like you’ve never seen, it was gorgeous and the water was so blue.

“I think you’ll fit in nicely here. I’ll show you around tomorrow and I’ll introduce you to a couple of ladies and you can pick a job. There are a few in mind.”

“Thank you for everything. I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, you’ve done a lot for Jake and soon for us.”

“I didn’t do a lot. I helped when the war happened but not initially.”

“You were following orders.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Tonowari stopped in front of you, his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes, “you’re doing the right thing now. That’s all that matters. You died for our cause; you saved many forest Na’vi.”

“I would’ve died either way. Not to mention I killed. I have memories of shooting up a school. Not that I enjoyed it or liked it, but I still did it.”

“That doesn’t matter now, that’s in the past. You’ve lived that life and now you have a new one and you can choose what you want to do with it.”

“Tonowari, what if I can’t? What if I’m only ever good for following orders and killing?”

His hands moved to your cheeks; he wiped the tears falling down your cheeks. “You will do your best and if something happens or you can’t handle it, you let me know. We can work on it. It won’t be easy but it will be possible and as your new olo’eyktan I want you to succeed.”

You leaned into him to hug him; he was probably the most loving person you ever met. You grew up as a military brat, you were never shown supportive love like this. You never knew love like this and you wanted to reach out and grab it and never let it go. You held onto him; your arms wrapped around his neck as you nuzzled into his neck. He hugged you just as tightly, he could see how hurt you were.

“I don’t quit, never have never will.”

“I think you’ll find other things you are good at.”

“Like what?”

“Weaving perhaps, healing, or maybe fishing, possibly you could be a hunter. You could provide for the people.”

“I will give it a try.”

After a long night's rest, you met a few people that morning, Tonowari took you by each person to meet them and try the jobs out.

As you figured, you sucked at weaving and cooking and healing and fishing. You would get frustrated easily, anything fitness-wise came easy to you as usually were always strong and fast. That’s why, when you went hunting with Tonowari, you kicked ass and had fun.

That’s when you started to admire Tonowari’s smile.

You knew he was mated with the tshaik but that didn’t stop you from staring and dreaming. Normally, you wouldn’t go for guys, you were bisexual, but you preferred women. At least most human women could actually make you cum, hence why you dated Trudy.

You spent a lot of time around Tonowari since you developed a small crush on him, which is how you started to crush on his mate more. You were over with him and his mate a lot, and you couldn’t help but to fall in love with them both, they both had such beautiful bodies and faces and personalities. You felt like every time you were flirting with them but they never seemed to reciprocate.

Ronal was even more loving than Tonowari and you were addicted to it, you wanted to be around her all the time. Ronal was always there to clean your cuts and ensure you were healing properly from all the bruising. You liked that she was so doting and caring, she was so special to you as was Tonowari.

Weeks later, you were with Jake’s kids, you were making jewelry with Kiri, Tuk and Tsireya. You found yourself having a lot of shell jewelry already thanks to Tuk, so you found yourself making a necklace for Ronal. You just wanted to do something nice for her since she helped you so much. Of course, you did make a bracelet for Tuk which she adored.

You were going over there for dinner and that was the perfect time to give her the necklace you made her. When you got there, you gave it to her with a large smile on your face. At first, she looked taken aback but then she smiled and set it down to hug you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I thought it was the perfect gift to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Of course, you didn’t know about mating rituals.

Ronal and Tonowari talked after you left and they were ready to give you a courting gift and hopefully have you mate with them.

You were over with Ronal and Tonowari again, it was the place to go to try and find you. As you were chatting with Tonowari about a recent hunt Ronal came over with a small box in hand. You looked at her, she smiled as she sat down in front of you and Tonowari, and you smiled along with her.

“I have this for you.”

“For me?”

Ronal handed you the box, as she opened it, your face lit up. It was a very traditional armband that Metkayina wore. Your face lit up and you smiled widely as you took it from her hands.

“It’s gorgeous Ronal, thank you. Both of you. It’s amazing. I love it a lot.”

“Ronal made it, it was my idea to make the armband though.”

“Well, you both did amazing.”

“So, you accept?” Ronal asked with a wide smile.

“Of course, I accept,” only you didn’t really know what you were accepting.

Tonowari’s hand held your jaw as he moved your face from looking straight ahead at Ronal to look at him. He looked into your wide eyes and his hand moved to your jaw as he kissed you. When he pulled back, you looked shocked, you never expected that. Once your brain reconnected, you moved in to kiss him. Your hands went to his neck and you went in for the kill, you have been wanting this.

You were kissing him quite passionately, although you didn’t realize you accepted their courting gift, you absolutely wanted this. Once you moved back, you smiled, you smiled at both of them.

“So, you will mate with us?” Ronal asked.

“A million times yes. I have only dreamed about this since you guys saved me.”

You moved in to hug Ronal, when you pulled away you stared at her.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, unsure if she wanted that or accepted that.

She kissed you; you crawled closer to her while your lips remained locked. Your arms went around her neck as you were practically on top of her, that’s when you felt a hand on your back. It went up your back and had you turn your head to Tonowari, who then started to kiss you again. You felt Ronal’s hands fall to your waist and drag down to your hips, her hands slid back up your body to your chest covering.

She reached behind your neck and untied it slowly to allow you to stop her, but that never came. She pulled your chest covering off and her hands gravitated to your tits which she held so nicely. Your body was writhing as she played with your nipples, and you moaned into Tonowari’s mouth. Your back arched and you pressed your lips into Tonowari more. Tonowari’s hands gripped your rib cage and squeezed his way down to your hips before moving between your legs. His fingers worked their way under your loincloth, your lips detached and your head rested on Tonowari’s shoulder.

The couple worked on you, as you moaned out loudly. You raised your hand and covered your mouth to try and keep the sounds to a minimum. Tonowari’s hand quickly followed yours and pulled your hand off your face.

“The noise doesn’t matter. Anyone nearby can smell it already. They know what’s happening,” Tonowari said.

“So, you just want everyone to know how well you’re pleasing me.”

“Obviously,” Tonowari said as he removed his fingers and started to untie your loin cloth.

You whimpered but then Tonowari removed your loin cloth fully and Ronal took her hands off your chest. He grabbed your hips and lied you on your stomach, he lifted your hips up enough to give himself some decent leverage.

“I’m going to fuck you and why don’t you eat out your darling mate Ronal,” Tonowari said as he slowly sunk into you.

You grabbed Ronal’s bare thighs and pulled her close to you, you immediately started to eat her out as Tonowari fucked you. Cumming from being fucking mercilessly by Tonowari was one of life’s greatest achievements and to top that off, your face was pressed further and further into one of the prettiest women you’ve ever seen. Making her cum was second to being fucked by Tonowari, it was immaculate to even taste her.

Your life from then on revolved around those two and your newfound adopted kids, Ao’nung, Tsireya, and the current unborn child Ronal was carrying. You were with them every step of the way, from holding Ronal all night after her spirit sister was killed to watching the kids leave to save Jake’s youngest son tulkan friend.

The sky people came to attack and you had no choice but to become a warrior. You were ready to fight for these people, you didn’t care what you wanted.

“I’m going out there, you can’t stop me.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Tonowari asked.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, our kids are out there.”

“You didn’t want to be a warrior or a killer.”

“I don’t have a choice. They took what is the most special to me, my family. I’ll kill for that.”

Tonowari let go of your arm and let you onto your skimwing and raced off to save the kids.

Once Jake went out to talk to Quaritch, you were looking at both your mates as Jake went to save your daughter and his two kids.

Then all hell broke loose and you did exactly what 10 years of intense military training taught you to do, kill.

You swam in fast; you were killing left and right, pushing through many bodies of so many different soldiers. You were blind, you remember this feeling, all you see is red and you’re mindlessly killing. This time it wasn’t orders though, this time you were fighting for your home and for your family. This time it was like a big middle finger to Quaritch for all the shit he’s ever done to you in the time you’ve known him on Pandora.

Watching Jake’s eldest cut loose his siblings and your daughter, you had Tsireya and you were trying to get Lo’ak and Neteyam to come with you once Tuk went with her mom. You had a choice to make, take your daughter to safety or help the boys go get their friend. You were blinded with rage still and Tsireya called an ilu and went back to her parents while you hopped aboard the ship. You followed the boys into the ship, you grabbed a gun and you shot at the few soldiers still straggling around.

The boys saw you following them, you went further into the ship together once they got Spider back. You shot at more soldiers, before getting into the water. It was shortly after you were confronted with Quaritch.

“I see you lived.”

“What would you know about that?”

Quaritch smirked as he held Kiri.

“What did you do to me?”

“You lied.”

“About what?”

“You were never on our side, even before you signed up for Deja Blue.”

“That’s true, but I didn’t defy until before home tree went down.”

“Still, you should have never been on our team. That’s why we had to take matters into our own hands.”

“By beating me and dumping me in a river.”

“You were supposed to die.”

“I wish I did. But at least I get to have some well-deserved revenge.”

Once the ship started to sink, you got out and went back to shore. You couldn’t fight Quaritch anymore and Jake had it covered anyways.

Your skimwing brought you to the shore and you saw your mates standing there, they did not look pleased. You couldn’t be happier about having to travel through water to get back to the shore, all the blood was washed off you, at least the blood that wasn’t yours.

“Where the hell have you been? Tsireya came home by herself.”

Tonowari was yelling at you, he was using his chieftain voice. You’ll be damned if it didn’t both scared you and turn you on, but you knew this was not a light circumstance. You stared at your mates, you felt nervous and you felt remorseful.

“I’m sorry. I went to help Jake’s kids. I think I just was seeing red and I didn’t want to stop.”

“You left your daughter alone,” Ronal said as she walked up to you.

“I’m sorry, I really am. This is why I didn’t want to start killing but I didn’t care anymore. They had our daughter and I just had to. I shouldn’t have left her, I knew that. But I did see one of the people I got brought back with. He told me what happened.”

“What did you learn, syulang,” Tonowari said as he pulled you into a hug.

“They knew about me being a traitor so they tried to kill me and get rid of me. I wanted revenge. I know it was selfish but still.”

“It’s okay. Just make sure you apologize to Tsireya.”

“I love you guys more than anything.”

“Let’s go get you cleaned up. You have a couple of cuts,” Ronal said as she started to bring you back to your home.

refuse to write Neteyam’s death so I just left it out.

[herdarkestnightelegance]

Nocturnal eyes

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n Tav

Tags: vulnerable Astarion, angst, friendship, a bit of fluff

Length: 2.4k words

Summary: Astarion notices something is off with his eyes …

A/N: @nyx-knox out here once again, being the ✨best✨ beta-reader I could hope for!

Also: ARE Y'ALL FOR REAL?! Over 750 reactions on my Bedhead fic?? Thank you so much 🥹!!!

Taglist: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate , @littlelovelore, @onlyancunin @chaoticbardlady99

::::::::::::::::::

Astarion sits in the soft green grass, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.

Today had been exhausting. The party had finally left the wilderness behind and set up camp on the Mountain Pass. Tomorrow they will head to the Githyanki Crèche, but for now … he’s just relaxing, listening to the soft rustle of the trees above him with his eyes closed.

Because they are hurting again - his damned eyes - causing his head to ache in that awful stinging way. This has been happening semi-regularly since they crashed on that beach. By the end of every day, his eyes feel exhausted. Sometimes he even welcomed the night, the dark bringing relief to his vision, much as he hated to admit that he found any solace in the darkness after having been trapped in it for so long.

It’s not that he wants to be in the dark again - on the contrary! Oh, words could never express how much he enjoys the feeling of the warmth on his skin, the smell of sun-baked earth beneath him, filling him with life, making his undead heart swell with secret joy. It’s just …

“Truly, a sight to behold,” Gale had said, when they first stepped through the gate onto the Pass and were greeted by a magnificent view of the surrounding valley … Or at least Astarion assumed that’s what it was.

Because he can’t tell. Not really. In fact, all he sees are blurry, rugged shapes and a haze of earthy colors far off in the distance.

When Astarion had first opened his eyes after the crash, all he could do was gasp audibly. The sun seared his eyes, the light brighter than anything he had seen in centuries. Immediately, he had shielded his face from the merciless rays, curled into a ball, panic taking over. “No!” he yelped. It’s daytime! I can’t be out! Oh Gods, do I smell smoke? Am I burning up?? Am I disintegrating???

But a few heartbeats passed and to his surprise - and great relief - it was not a burning pain he started to feel. Rather, it was a sensation he thought he had forgotten but that he immediately recalled, having felt it lifetimes ago: The warmth of the midday sun.

Cautiously, he had uncoiled himself and tried opening his eyes again. Gods! It hurts. Of course, Vampire eyes are sensitive to the light, in order to see better at night. An essential trait for nocturnal creatures, predators, such as himself. His eyes hadn’t had to process so much brightness in … forever. So, being blasted with daylight for the first time in roughly 200 years - it hurt like all Hells! 

It took a few moments, but eventually Astarion managed to pry open his crimson eyes. And he began to see. To look. And he saw colors he hadn’t seen in too long. He saw the bright blue sky, the deep purples of the Nautiloid shipwreck, the turquoise water covered with the most beautiful shimmering reflections. Everything was bright. Everything was so vibrant! Everything was so … full of life. He looked up, squinting at the trees and their slightly blurred leaves. Those luscious, green leaves. Gods … I had forgotten how beautiful that particular color is … 

But there had been no time for him to enjoy all those new sights for long. He heard them before he saw them. The others. Friends? Enemies? He couldn’t tell. They were just indiscernible shapes in the distance - but as soon as he had lured one of them close enough to put a knife to their throat, he was back in survival mode, forgetting about the colors he had just reveled in.

That’s what he knew how to do, after all. Hitting his close target. And really, that’s all he should care about, that’s really all he actually needs to see. He’s a master at close-up melee combat, a rogue who sneaks up to his victims, dangerous with his blade. He’s skilled at picking locks and picking pockets. And he’s an amazing lover, always able to read every detail of his victims' expressions to make sure he hits that target just as well. All he needs to see clearly is what’s right in front of him, isn’t it?

But if he was being really honest … it’s not like his usual tricks have actually worked out for him so far, now have they? His first melee attack had earned him a headbutt to the face. He had woken his first victim while sneaking up on them. And he felt his nice little seduction plan for Tav slowly and steadily backfiring on him - but that was a problem for another time. So why not top it all off with embarrassingly inadequate vampiric eyesight to really emphasize it all, he figured?

Astarion opens his eyes again and looks at the hazy, blurred valley below, the wind tousling his white locks, and he scoffs. Ironic, isn’t it? Here he is, finally free from his captor. But of course, even out in the open, he’s not able to look beyond the confines of his own metaphorical cell. As if his eyes are still keeping him prisoner.

A sound behind him snaps him out of his thoughts. Again, he hears them before he sees them coming. Only this time he knows it is a friend. “Astarion?” Tav, he thinks with a knowing smile. He knows their voice anywhere.

“Yes, Darling?” he asks as their leader emerges from the shade of the trees.

Astarion grew to enjoy Tav‘s company quite a bit, if he was being honest. Not only during their passionate encounters, but also just sitting with them, talking about their journey, about the others in their party, sometimes even about his past, which he never thought possible when he had been pressing his knife to their throat just a short time ago.

“Enjoying the view?” they ask as they sit down next to him in the soft grass.

“Oh of course,” Astarion answers as he leans back onto his elbows.

“Especially the Crèche,” Tav continues, pointing into the valley, making casual conversation.

“Why, I agree. Who would have thought the Gith were such marvelous architects,” the pale Elf replies without missing a beat. 

It’s now that Tav turns to look at him. “... Except the Crèche is in the opposite direction?” they say cautiously. 

Shit. Astarion tenses.

He hates this. They know. Immediately he is prepared to snap, to throw a sarcastic comment back at them, telling them to mind their own damn business. Feeling exposed, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, part of him expecting to see mockery, or malice even, should he meet Tav’s eyes. But when he eventually looks up … all he sees is a knowing smile. Their face is so very clear next to him, and so is the genuine fondness that greets him in their expression. The same fondness he is secretly happy to see on Tav’s face every time they look at him.

Astarion takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want his walls to go up. Not for Tav. He resists it, that stupid defensive mechanism and to his surprise, he actually relaxes a bit. “You noticed,” he says quietly.

Tav nods. “On our first day, actually.” His eyebrows go up in surprise. 

“Did you now?” the vampire asks.

“We climbed that platform next to the crash site, remember? You were first up. And you said there’s nothing to see.” Their tone is neither condescending nor reproachful. “But there was... A lot, actually. You know, like, the village? Or the goblin camp. Or, well, this mountain pass. So yeah, I noticed.”

Astarion scoffs. They were right, of course. And back then, he didn’t even realize there was something wrong with his vision. He had still been so overwhelmed with all the light and color, all this blue and green…

For a moment, both sit in silence before Astarion speaks up. “It’s all rather blurry, you know?” he finally admits aloud. “I never noticed it back in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav listens and nods. “I thought vampirism cures all mortal ailments, even eye problems.”

“Well, maybe there are exceptions? Or maybe I’m just a sorry excuse for a vampire spawn. Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like any vampire is able to look at vast illuminated landscapes during the day to notice if something is off.” he says in a slightly frustrated, even embarrassed tone, gesturing towards the sunset.

“Your eyes have been adjusted to the night for 200 years. So … maybe they just need a bit to adjust to the daylight now? Give it some time.” The optimism and sweetness in Tav’s voice makes the corner of Astarion’s mouth twitch up into a half-smile.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” he says. Maybe they are right. Maybe. 

This is when Tav clears their throat. “But uhm, until then …” Astarion’s pointy ears twitch slightly as he hears Tav rummaging in their pocket. When they procure something wrapped in a folded leather cloth, he sits up.

“What’s this?” he asked, and they hand him the flat parcel. Curiously, Astarion opens the wrapping. 

In his hand lies the most hideous pair of mismatched spectacles he has ever seen. 

Before he can say anything, Tav begins to talk. “I came across this half broken pair of looking glasses while looting some time ago, and I thought, well, while there is no way we would ever find the perfect pair, we might just try making a custom one, right? I mean, it’s obvious you’re straining your eyes. You might not say anything to us about it, and you don’t have to, but I can tell that you often have a headache by the end of the day, and I, well, wanted to help.” Astarion still says nothing, inspecting the wonky looking thing in his hands.

Quickly, Tav continues, compelled to explain. “But you have no idea how hard it is to find undamaged spectacles! I mean, it makes sense, right? Who would leave their eyes behind? So anyway, I started collecting all the glasses I could find, hoping for an intact pair, but well … eventually I ended up with … this.”

The pair of spectacles in Astarion’s hand was clearly made of two halves from different glasses, held together in the middle by a thin leather cord, wrapped around it several times and in several other places. “Both glasses seemed to be made for looking at things further away. Of course, I can’t say for certain. They are not for me, I mean, if anything, I should be looking into finding a pair for me, so I can finally read that book Gale won’t shut up about. But … anyway, I thought maybe they might be of use to you.”

It’s not often that Astarion is stunned into silence. Tav did this? For him? It takes him a moment to process this … act of kindness. But when he does, he leans over to Tav, turning their face to him with a finger beneath their chin, and softly kisses them. “They … are hideous, my dear,” he says against their lips, with a chuckle and a genuine, soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, I know,” Tav agrees, kissing him back, mirroring his smile, before pulling away. “Well go on then, put them on.”

And he does. Astarion puts on the mismatched, wonky pair of improvised spectacles, the right temple barely fitting over his ear.

“Well?”, Tav asks hopefully.

With the awkward thing perched in his elegant face, the vampire looks down into the valley and takes in an almost inaudible breath. It’s … much better than he could have hoped for. Yes, it’s far from perfect. The glasses are sitting on his aquiline nose lopsided and the left glass is not even close to what he probably needs, yet he feels that nagging strain on his eyes eases immediately.

But that’s not what stuns the pale Elf.

Just as the sun begins to disappear behind the mountains, casting long shadows and a warm orange glow on everything around them, Astarion sees. And all of it this time! For the first time in 200 years, he sees the crisp outline of the setting sun. He sees the mountain tops and ridges. He sees the glowing clouds. By the Gods…

“Astarion?” Tav asks timidly, but he does not react. They sit with him in silence then, watching him watch the sunset in wonder, those red ruby eyes they love so much squinting intently, unmoving, until the glowing disk disappears behind the horizon and the sky slowly begins to turn a lovely shade of purple.

It takes a moment for Astarion to stir again. Carefully, he takes the spectacles off his face as if it’s the most precious thing he has ever owned, before looking at Tav. A lot of things are going through his head at that moment, and - much to his ever-growing confusion - through his undead heart as well. This is not a thing you just do for a travel-companion. Why are you so nice to me? I do not deserve your kindness. “Thank you.”, he eventually settles on, and he knows to Tav those simple words convey everything. 

Tav smiles. “Don’t mention it,” obviously delighted their little gift has been accepted. Why in the hells his favorite travel companion, no, his lover, went out of their way to help him like this, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Sure, they agreed to help him kill Cazador, but this is not the same! This is special. This is … caring. It is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. And he is truly, deeply grateful.

This gift would do wonders for his vision, at least until his nocturnal eyes fully embrace looking into the far distance during the day. He knows he will look so foolish with this contraption on his nose and he would probably have to kill Gale should the wizard ever see him with them on, but somehow he didn’t mind wearing these, looking silly, unsightly even, in front of Tav. They wouldn’t judge him, they wouldn’t laugh at him. Because he feels that they care.

After a moment, Astarion puts the spectacles back on, turning his head up to the tree branches above them, that stunning green of the individual, defined leaves still visible in the dim dusk light.

“You know, Darling …”, he says, “I really do love that color.”

[sattlersquarry]

the great divide (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU, the sequel to orange juice) After your miraculous return to the land of the living, you aren't doing well.

Word Count: ~12k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. The reader has panic attacks and intrusive thoughts about Not Wanting To Be Alive. If that will be triggering for you please don't read this (read my happier bloom series instead). there's also an allusion to a relapse, slut-shaming, and allusions to sex (although there's no smut, it just gets slightly steamy). this fic is angst + hurt/comfort with an optimistic ending. inspired by noah kahan's music (including this amazing demo on instagram).

a/n: please let me know if i missed any warnings. please don't read this if you think it will be too triggering. the last thing i want is to make someone upset! but writing this was cathartic and helped me work through some things, i think. writing is magical!

🫀🫀🫀

THE GREAT DIVIDE

SOMETIME IN 1987

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since you last saw your friends. It feels like a fucking long time.

You woke up on the ground of the Upside Down, covered in dried blood and terrified at the sight of Vecna towering above you.

He brought you back to life. He wanted to send you back home and use you as a soldier and spy, the same thing he did to Will, Billy, Heather, and countless others.

“If you do this,” Vecna had growled, “You can once again see your family. Your friends. Your beloved Steven. Otherwise…you will die here.”

You refused, not interested in being his lackey. He tried to flay you anyway, but he was weak from the hell Nancy, Steve, and Robin rained down on him, allowing you to escape his clutches.

He stalked you for days, finally catching up to you—but you got the upper hand, using Eddie’s spear to stab him. Repeatedly.  

Killing Vecna caused the gates he opened to sew themselves back shut before you could get through. You were glad that your friends no longer had to worry about Vecna and his army of monsters pouring through the four gates, but it meant you were trapped on the wrong side of the universe.

Vecna gone meant the Upside Down could revert back to what it was before he arrived. Now, the sky of the Upside Down was a buttery yellow, and it was much warmer. You saw patches of green grass and flowers starting to grow in various spots around town. But it still felt like a nightmare.

You wander the Upside Down each day with a routine: avoid monsters, forage for food and clean water, and visit the gates to see if any of them reopened. Food and water aren’t as hard to find as you feared, since the world isn’t so much of a poison, desolate nightmare anymore. But the gates stay staunchly shut, much to your chagrin.

You miss your life. You miss Steve. You miss his laugh, his smile, his kisses, his touch. You would do ungodly things to see him again.

You hope he’s okay. Any time you want to give up, you remind yourself that if roles were reversed, Steve would keep fighting to come back to you no matter what.

And, to your pleasant surprise, he does just that.

🫀🫀🫀

AUGUST 1987

It’s been three months since you returned to the land of the living. You’re not taking it well.

Surviving the Upside Down meant constantly being in fight-or-flight, scrambling to find food and clean water while avoiding demo-creature attacks. Without Vecna’s evil influence, the animals weren’t so bloodthirsty—but they still needed to eat.

You were able to avoid them, surviving yourself off disgusting canned food from the Upside Down’s version of the Big Buy and whatever houses you ransacked. It wasn’t very appetizing. It made the meal you were serving up today seem like a 5-star, 5-course delight.

It was neither of those things. It was for a church potluck that your mother had a hand in throwing. Lots of casseroles and carbs. She dragged you along to volunteer in hopes to get you out of the house.

Ever since you left the hospital in May, you’d only ever left the house to go to doctor’s appointments, therapy appointments, and Steve’s place. Your parents wanted to encourage more of a well-rounded life and schedule, and although they’d never admit it, you figured they hoped you’d turn back to your normal self. To the person you were before it all happened.

You think she might have died.

As you plate some macaroni and cornbread for your next patron, you sense eyes on you. You glance over and see two women at a table a few feet away. To your chagrin, they’re gossiping about you.

“I mean, it’s appalling,” an old bat named Shirley hisses. “She claims to have lost her memory after the earthquake and gotten lost, but it’s obvious that she just ran away.”  

“Probably thought she was grown up, that she knew better than her parents,” Mildred says with a sniff, adjusting her too-big glasses.

“I can’t believe she left poor Steve Harrington high and dry,” Shirley adds.

Your heart clenches at the fact that these women see you as a villain, as an irresponsible idiot who up and left everyone who loved her out of spite. If they knew the truth…if they knew the nightmare you’d survived…

It only gets worse from there.

“You know what Cynthia told me?” Mildred says. “That her cousin’s roommate’s friend’s brother saw Y/N working a street corner in Manassas. It's just shameful.”

Anger burns through you, hot like hellfire. So, what? You’re not just a flake—you’re a slut to this people now, too? What happened to ‘loving thy neighbor’ and ‘forgiveness’ and all that shit?

“Can I get some more of that?” an elderly man says.

It snaps you back to your task at hand: dishing out food to hungry churchgoers.

“Ah, yeah,” you say. You dump macaroni on his Styrofoam plate. “Sorry. Here you go.”

The man smiles and ambles off. You take a deep breath and try your best to tune out the whispers of the chattering hens.

Your mother must notice the scowl on your face. She makes her way to you, practically floating, as graceful as ever. She’s totally in her element. She deserves a daughter who doesn’t clomp and stumble her way through life. Who doesn’t jump at every loud noise and sleep with a hunting knife under her pillow.

“Doing all right?” your mother asks you, giving you that sympathetic look that you think you might despise by now.

You muster up a smile of your own and nod.

Your mother can’t tell its fake and beams.

“See?” she says. “I knew getting you out of the house would turn that frown upside-down!”

She doesn’t know about the Upside Down. She thinks you got injured in the earthquake, stumbled through the Indiana woodlands, and got found by cops two states over. That you couldn’t remember where you came from due to amnesia, that since they pronounced you dead no one assumed you were the missing girl from Hawkins until your memories came back.

You let her comment slide and fake a smile, figuring it’s better to pretend you’re fine than feel it all.

🫀🫀🫀

That night, you chat with Steve on the phone. He’s gone back to college for the fall semester and you miss him terribly.

He promised he’d come back to Hawkins every other weekend. He knows how hard it’s been for you coming back. Or, he says he knows. Sometimes, you get the idea that he doesn’t really understand.

How could he? Every time he tries to get you to open up about what happened and what you went through, you shut down.

However, when he asks how your day was, you decide to be honest.

“It sucked,” you say. You blow out a huff of air. “These old crones were being total bitches at the church potluck. Apparently, the new conspiracy theory is that I was turning tricks in Virginia.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Y/N,” Steve says. For some reason, the sympathy in his voice makes you wince.

“But it’s fine,” you say quickly. “I don’t care what they say about me.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay if you do, you know,” Steve says, speaking slowly and carefully as if he’s worried about setting you off. (For good reason; you’ve been prone to outbursts of anger lately.)

“I know!” you say, defensiveness seeping into your tone. “But I don’t give a shit. Really.”

“Good,” Steve says. But he sounds unconvinced. “You shouldn’t.”

Another pause. It lasts a little too long for your liking. You clear your throat.

“I should probably shower and head to bed,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says. You don’t understand why he sounds almost intrigued by the prospect of your boring nighttime routine until he says, “A shower with you sounds like heaven right now…”

Shit. You’re really not in the mood for phone sex. Even if that’s not what Steve is angling for, just slightly flirty banter doesn’t sound fun to you either.

Steve has been a total gentleman ever since you got back. You’ve kissed a little, but anytime he tries to take it further, you stop him. As much as you longed for him in every sense while in the Upside Down, you don’t feel ready to re-engage in those kinds of activities—like you’ve been shot back to the insecure, unconfident person you were before you started dating Steve.

He respects those boundaries and never, ever presses for more. But you worry he’s getting bored and wants to get back into old habits, possibly evidenced by his shower comment.

You’re a coward. You don’t tell him outright that you’re not in the mood, afraid he’ll have an out-of-character reaction and chew you out for being a prude or a tease.

“Huh?” you say. Steve starts to repeat his salacious comment, but you interrupt with: “Bad…connection…can’t…better…”

You hang up the phone and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

🫀🫀🫀

OCTOBER 1987

It’s a Thursday in October, and you’re taking a trip for the first time in a long time.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Toothbrush? Extra socks? Lambchop?”

You huff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms like a petulant teenager.

“Mom! I’m an adult. I do not need a stuffed animal.”

“But you packed her, right?”

You mumble out a “Yes” as she pulls up to the parking lot near Steve’s apartment building.

You applied for spring admission at the University of Indiana. Your lovely boyfriend invited you to stay with him for a few days so he could show you around campus for homecoming weekend.

Tonight is the unofficial campus tour with “Tour Guide Steve.” Tomorrow, you’ll help him and his friends put the finishing touches on a homecoming parade float, and Saturday is the big football game.

Before your disappearance and assumed death, your parents were insanely strict about you staying the night with Steve and wouldn’t have allowed it. Now, they’ve mellowed out—but you hate thinking it’s because of some kind of twisted pity.

Steve must have seen your mom’s minivan pull up from his apartment window, because he jogs over to you before you’ve even grabbed your bag from the trunk.

“Hey, babe!” he says with a beaming grin; the picture of exuberance. You can feel his excitement roll off him in waves. You feel like an asshole for matching his energy. Even though you’re excited for time with Steve, you have a pit in your stomach at the thought of being away from home for so many days.

Of course, if you get accepted to U of I, you’ll be away from home for weeks at a time. You try not to think about that.

Steve hugs you tightly, and you hope he can’t sense your apprehension.

He seems not too, still smiling as he gives your mom a quick hug and then offers to carry your duffel bag for you.

You give your mom a hug goodbye, promising to call if you want to get picked up early.

You and Steve wave as your mom drives away. After dropping your bag off at his apartment, Steve takes you on an abridged campus tour that ends at the dining hall. He wants to introduce you to his friends.

He has friends here. Of course he does, you’re glad he does. No one should feel like they don’t have friends, or like their girlfriend is their only friend. But what does it mean that your boyfriend is your only friend lately?

Nancy’s off at Emerson. As for the Hawkins crew, Jonathan’s busy with family stuff, helping Joyce and Hopper renovate their new house. Eddie’s preoccupied with his band, trying to get Corroded Coffin off the ground after a he-was-accused-of-murder hiatus. And Robin’s a student at Roane County Community College, spending her days with marching band and classes and clubs and work.

They’ve started inviting you to things, and sometimes you go. You usually don’t have much fun, distracted with your own anxieties and unable to think of anything interesting to say.

So, the fact that Steve seems to have moved on from everything so easily and has a pack of friends at college makes you feel pathetic, even though it shouldn’t.

At the dining hall, Steve introduces you to his buddies. When Steve lived on-campus last semester, Gus was his roommate. Now Steve’s moved into his own apartment off-campus, but the boys still hang out often and play together on a club basketball team.

Jessica is Gus’ girlfriend. She has a kind smile and compliments your sweater.

The last friend in their clique is Rochelle. She’s tall and slender, like a supermodel. Apparently, she and Jessica grew up together and are good friends.

Everyone greets you happily when Steve introduces you—except Rochelle, who looks you up and down like she’s inspecting you. It makes you uneasy.

You immediately start to dislike her more when she laughs loudly at Steve’s jokes and squeezes his shoulder flirtatiously.

“You are tew much, Harrington,” Rochelle says, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder.

It makes you feel tense and jealous and angry and sick all at once.

You’re completely content to listen in silence while the others chat, but then Jessica asks where you go to school.

“Oh, um, here, in the spring,” you say. “Uh, hopefully.”

“That’s awesome!” Gus says. “You get the full Hoosiers homecoming experience a whole semester before having to pay tuition.”

You chuckle and smile. Any good feelings you have about this interaction come crashing down when Rochelle asks, “So, like, if you aren’t a student right now, what do you do?”

“She’s working at Sonic,” Steve says. “Saving up money. Right babe?”

You turn to him, face falling. You’re not working. You tried to apply for a job at Sonic and had a panic attack when you saw the gap in your resume from your 15 months in the Upside Down, so you roller-skated your way home to unemployment.

Did you not tell Steve that? You suppose you “forgot” to tell him about that panic episode.

“Uh, actually no,” you say, furrowing your brow. “Not anymore. I’m just taking a semester off.”

Surprise flashes behind Steve’s eyes, but he recovers quickly. He throws an arm around your shoulders and says, “Right, of course.”

The rest of the conversation is mostly you smiling and nodding along to the funny stories and inside jokes the group shares. When you and Steve get back to his place later that evening, you apologize for not updating him on the Sonic situation sooner.

Steve waves away your apology.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he says.

“But I feel bad,” you say, fidgeting with your fingers while you sit next to him on the couch. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

(You didn’t truly forget. You were embarrassed and didn’t want him to know.)

“These things happen,” Steve says. “I totally get it. For a few months after Vecna and…you, my brain was like scrambled eggs. I’d drink myself to a coma every other night. I definitely didn’t have the sharpest mind.”

You appreciate him for understanding. Except you feel shitty because you’re lying to him about forgetting. It’s a vicious cycle.

The two of you put on a movie, and while you’re lying on the couch with him, you start thinking of something you haven’t done in a long, long time.

You lightly trace your hand up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Would you want to…”

You clear your throat.

“What?” Steve asks.

You aren’t sure how to ask for what you want without sounding wholly desperate and/or pathetic and/or like the horniest bastard alive.

“Go to your room?” you say.

“Sure, if you want, we can go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You laugh lightly.

“No, I mean. You know.”

You wiggle your eyebrows and Steve’s jaw drops. Mouth agape, like a goldfish, his brains seems to short circuit.

The air is charged with something you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Are you sure?” Steve says, a barely audibly whisper. His hand cups your cheek so delicately, and you feel cherished. Love. Seen.

“I am,” you whisper back, before pulling him closer to you for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss you dreamed about while you were trapped in another universe.

It makes you feel electric, the same way your first kiss had. That iconic kiss happened because Steve found out you’d never played spin the bottle. In his kitchen late, late at night, he took an empty soda bottle and spun it on the countertop.

He had maneuvered it just right and stopped it with his hand when the bottle neck pointed right at you, like a compass needle finding truth north.

“Well, what do you know,” Steve had said at the time, with a dopey grin on his face. “It’s you.”

“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” you had quipped, “you could’ve just asked.”

And then you two kissed like crazy, amongst other things.

Back in the present, all your hesitancies and qualms about re-engaging in intimacy and sex with Steve are thrown out the window when you feel his lips on yours.

Giddy as if it’s the first time (because, in a way, it kind of is), the two of you break apart and practically race down the hall to his bedroom. Thank goodness for no roommates, because when you’re in there, Steve slams the door and presses you against it to kiss some more, closing the gap between the metaphorical great divide that you’ve placed between you both.

You tug at his shirt, and he pulls it off before the two of you stumble into his bed.

Things heat up, and they’re going great. Steve is kissing and biting your neck, probably leaving a hickey or two, but you don’t mind. His hands are gripping your waist, practically leaving scorch marks in their wake.

You’re loving this. You’re having a great time.

Until you’re not. The trains of thought in your brain all rush from the station at the same time, colliding at a junction on the tracks.

What if you give Steve an infection? Not an STD, but like, an Upside Down sickness. You could be a carrier and not even realize it. Is that a possibility? What did Dr. Owens say last time you saw him?

He advised you not to get pregnant. He said there’s a possibility your future children could have birth defects after your time in the Upside Down. Birth defects! You’re only 21 years old and your body is poisoned. Not enough to harm you in the short term, but the long term effects on you (and your progeny) could be terrible to deal with.

But Steve really wants kids. What if he finds out you can’t give him children and he leaves you? You really, really don’t want him to leave you.

You don’t realize it, but you start breathing a little harder. To Steve, it seems like you’re insanely turned on. Mentally, your brain is on a different plane of existence.

He’s going to leave you because he’s better off without you. He doesn’t realize it yet but one day, one day. He will.

Vecna was right. Vecna said Steve would get tired and bored of you. That’s why the monster tried to recruit you, to flay you. That’s why he pursued you across the Upside Down for days, hunting you like a dog until he cornered you at the quarry.

Steve finally takes notice of your erratic breathing pattern. You’re not reacting how you usually do to his kissing. He ceases the lovefest and leans up on his elbows.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You don’t hear him. You continue to hyperventilate, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

And when you stabbed the beast through the chest with the spear Eddie left behind, you didn’t even feel sorry.

Is that the kind of person you are? A sick, violent freak?

But it was self-defense!

But if you hadn’t tried to draw the demobats away, you wouldn’t have been in that situation. You went against the plan. You caused all the bad things that happened to you.

You’re a bad person. A bad omen. A bad girlfriend. A bad daughter. A—

“Hey, can you hear me? Y/N?”

Steve’s soft, slightly panicked, voice brings you back down to reality.

You nod, eyes still shut.

“Sorry,” you say. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, still speaking quietly as if he’s afraid to scare you. You don’t feel his hands on you anymore, but you sense he’s still close. “It’s okay. Can you sit up? I think you should drink something.”

You sit up slowly and open your eyes. Steve looks frazzled, but he musters up a smile when he hands you a glass of cold water.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

You don’t respond, just take a sip.

“Can we just go to bed?” you say after a moment, voice cracking.

Steve nods and gives your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Of course. And, hey, listen, we don’t have to have sex anytime soon, okay?”

“But—”

“No, seriously,” Steve says, shaking his head vehemently. “I mean, of course I like having sex with you. Probably too much.”

You snort and shake your head, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“But you know I don’t mind waiting. Right?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

But as you lie awake, tossing and turning, your brain continues feeding you lie after lie, and you find yourself believing the opposite. Prude, tease. Bad girlfriend. Bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

The next morning, you, Steve, Gus, Jessica, and Rochelle work on a homecoming float for the club basketball team the boys are on.

It’s fun at first. The parking lot is filled with floats for all different student organizations. Someone is playing music a bit too loud, but the energy is electric.

It takes a turn when Steve rushes off with Gus to get more supplies.

While you’re kneeling by the float trying to staple tinsel trim around the edge, you hear Rochelle and Jessica whispering conspiratorially on the other side. They can’t see you due to a large papier mâché basketball blocking you from view.

You're awash with embarrassment, feeling warm head to toe, when you realize they’re talking about you.  

“You know what Mollie told me?” Rochelle said. “When she and Steve were hooking up last year, he called her Y/N, like, three times.”

Your heart shrinks. You didn’t know Steve had been involved with anyone while you were gone. In fact, he said the opposite.

“That’s kind of sweet though, when you think about it,” Jessica muses. “But I wonder what caused Steve and Y/N to break up and then get back together. I’ve never dreamed of breaking up with Gus.”

“I heard some other super freaky stuff about her,” Rochelle says. “My sorority sister, Tina, is from Hawkins too. Apparently, Y/N had, like, amnesia or some shit after that earthquake thing. And she was like missing.”

“Damn,” Jessica says. “That’s crazy. How’d she remember stuff and get back home?”

“Who gives a shit?” Rochelle scoffs. “That’s obviously a cover story. Tina said the real story is probably something much simpler. Like she ran away to become a stripper but couldn’t hack it because she doesn’t have a good body. And, well, we’ve seen that firsthand.”

Anger and shame courses through your veins, and you tug on the hem of your sweatshirt. You’re comforted only a miniscule amount when you hear Jessica come to your defense.

“Don’t be such a jerk. And we have no idea what really happened so stop making shit up, mkay?”

“I’m just repeating what I heard. But Tina’s right, her whole deal is so weird. I can’t believe she’s Steve’s girlfriend. He deserves better.”

Those words echo in your head. He deserves better. He deserves better. You’ve been thinking that a lot yourself lately.

You don’t care if Jessica and Rochelle see you when you toss your stapler onto the ground and stomp off.

“Oh, shit,” you hear Jessica say. “Nice going, Roche.”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know she was creeping around!”

As you beeline through the throngs of float-makers, you bump into Steve, holding a box of glittery something. He grins at you.

“Hey, where’s the fire?”

When he notices the grim look on your face, he sobers up.

“Whoa, what happened?”  

“Who’s Mollie?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Steve pales. He swallows hard, grip on the box loosening. He gingerly sets it on the ground next to him and shrugs.

“No one.”

“Liar.”

Steve glances around before leading you away from the crowd to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the parking lot.

“She really was no one,” Steve repeats. “Just some girl I had a class with. I was lonely and she liked me, so we went out twice.”

“I heard Rochelle say you hooked up with her,” you say. You cross your arms and try to keep angry tears at bay. “You told me you didn’t find anybody else.”

“I didn’t!” Steve says, a little louder. He clears his throat. “I meant that. We almost hooked up, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

You sigh and shake your head. You want to believe him so badly. But the voice in your head that’s been so cruel to you lately isn’t convinced.

“Do you still think about her?”

Steve scrunches up his face, wholly confused at your line of questioning.

“What? No, of course not. Like I said, we hung out twice, had one near-miss, and then never spoke again. Babe, is everything okay?”

He reaches a hand to your arm and you flinch away. Your action makes him frown deeper.

You rub your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. “Just tired.”

A beat. You think Steve’s going to accept your answer, until: “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying!” you say, irritation creeping into your tone. “I’m just tired. Okay, Steve?”

Steve fidgets from foot to foot. He’s starting to look as agitated as you feel. With an annoyingly calm, even voice, he says, “I think you’re not being honest.”

“And I think you should shut up,” you fire back, before you can stop yourself.

Steve’s face contorts into a frown, the line between his brows deepening.

“Whoa, what the hell?” he says. “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I just found out you lied about not being involved with someone while I was gone!”

Steve rubs his face with his hands, as if he’s trying to scrub away whatever he’s feeling. He takes a deep breath, another one, and then finally speaks.

“Y/N, I thought you were dead,” he says, voice strained. “You can’t seriously be jealous of me spending time with someone else because to my knowledge, I was never going to see you again.”

You know you should apologize for your outburst. Tell him about your insecurities, now dialed up to 1000 thanks to Rochelle’s comments. Rejoin his friends at the float like the normal girlfriend he probably wishes you were.

But instead, you find yourself voicing one of the fears that’s been swirling in your brain since June.

“It would be so much easier for you if that was still the case, right?” you ask, softly.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks.

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. “Bringing me back?” He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. You clear your throat and, louder, add, “Because it would be so much simpler for you to date a girl like Mollie or Rochelle.”

“Jesus, Y/N,” Steve groans. “Don’t bring Rochelle into this.”

“Why not? She’s obviously obsessed with you!”

“Yeah?” Steve scoffs. “Well, I don’t like her. I like you.” He shakes his head, as if he’s short-circuiting, and corrects, “I love you!”

Too late. You already heard the Freudian slip of your worst nightmare. He doesn’t regard you in the same way he did before your so-called death. You’ve changed too much.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No,” you say. “No. You loved the girl I was before it all happened.”

“You’re still the same girl!”

“I’m not!” you shout. You’re so angry, so upset, so emotional, you can’t stop. You’re floating above your body and watching yourself speak when you say, “I’m not. She’s gone, and sometimes I wish you’d never brought me back so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve goes still once more. When he finally replies, his voice is dangerously quiet: “How dare you say that.”

You hadn’t expected that. You’d expected him to swoop in with comforting platitudes. To hug you and promise it would all be okay. To truly hear the words you’re saying—the thoughts you’ve been too afraid to voice in therapy, thoughts you’ve sugarcoated in your mind to lessen that bitter feeling on your tongue when you finally speak them aloud.

“What?” you whisper. Your eyes sting, unshed tears collecting on your lash line.

“How dare you say that,” Steve says, shaking his head. He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. He runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh so hollow, you can practically hear the echo in his ribcage. “That’s so fucking selfish that you wish you were still down there. I was miserable without you. I didn’t want to go on. I didn’t think I could!”

He's not getting what you’re trying to say. You open your mouth to reply, to apologize, to try and fix things, but Steve continues.

“So for you to be so callous, to think so little of me, to think I’d rather date some vapid airhead just because it would be ‘simpler’? To think I somehow can’t love you anymore because of what you went through? That’s just…bullshit!”

You heave out a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. Steve’s expression morphs into one of guilt. He swallows hard.

“Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings are bullshit!” you snap. You sniffle and roughly wipe your tears away, before jabbing a finger into his chest and pressing in. “Ever since I’ve been back, it’s all about how everyone else feels about it. You and my parents are so much happier, and you seem to think I can snap back to how I was before and forget it all happened and be grateful that I survived. Well, I can’t!”

Despite your distance from the parade planning festivities, you see a few curious students glance in your direction. You can’t be bothered to care.

“I don’t know how to go on with life like normal after 15 months in that hell, and no one understands what I’m going through!” you yell. “No one has been through that! And I’m miserable and scared and anxious and I’m lying to my therapist week after week because I can’t even verbalize what I’m thinking without feeling like I’m losing my goddamn mind. So sorry if sometimes I wish all this would go away.”

Steve’s facial expression cracks your heart in seventeen pieces. He looks devastated and confused.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, somewhat cautiously. “You’re right. I’m not handling this well, not seeing it from your point of view. But this is the most you’ve expressed how you’re feeling about it all. For the past few months, I—I don’t know. I thought you were feeling okay.”

You sniffle again and shrug.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “This is good, I think. Well, no, it’s not good that we’re screaming at each other in the quad. But getting our feelings out is—”

“I want to go home,” you say, cutting him off.

Steve closes his eyes, sighs softly, and nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll drive you back to Hawkins tonight.”

“No, I want to go now,” you say, voice cracking as you try not to cry harder. “I want my mom to come get me.”

Hurt flashes on Steve’s features. “Babe, are you sure? I really don’t mind. I want to, actually. The drive will give us more of a chance to talk.”

But you’re too tired and overwhelmed to talk anymore. Steve understands, though his shoulders are slumped as the two of you walk back to his apartment.

He offers to pack your bag while you call your house. Your mom picks up on the second ring.

“Hello, Y/L/N residence.”

“Mom?” you sniff. “Can you come get me?”

“Oh, of course sweetie!” You hear the jingle of car keys. “Wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

“I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Did you and Steve have a fight?”

“His friends were really mean,” you say quietly, deciding not to disclose that you indeed got in an argument with Steve. “This girl, Rochelle, said one of her friends from Hawkins is telling everyone I was a stripper.”

“Oh, don’t you listen to that.”

You can’t hold back tears as you begin to cry harder.

“How come everyone makes up those dumb rumors?” you say through sobs. “And if people on campus already know them, how much worse will it be if I’m a student here?!”

Your mom soothes you over the phone before promising to get there as quickly as possible. As you hang up the phone, Steve comes in from down the hall, frowning and carrying your now-packed duffel. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about his eavesdropping when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me Rochelle said that to you?”

You shrug and look down at your feet.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I keep replaying our conversation in my head,” he says, “and I feel like an ass.”

“You’re not, Steve.”

“No! I am. I absolutely am. You were honest and vulnerable, and I immediately got mad. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say flatly. Admittedly, you’re not sure if you forgive him yet. But you know you didn’t treat him well either, so you say, “I’m sorry too. I was insensitive. I know you had a hard time while I was gone—”

“But it’s nothing compared to what you were dealing with,” Steve says. He steps closer to you and intertwines your hands together. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“My mom’s already on her way,” you say. “And you should rest up. Tomorrow’s the parade, and the homecoming game.”

“I don’t need to go to the game.”

“Steve—”

“I’d rather come back to Hawkins this weekend,” he continues. “Spend more time with you. Talk things through, you know? Maybe I can just ride with you and your mom, and Munson can bring me back Sunday.”

He’s sweet. But you aren’t sure how to tell him that you really, really don’t want to be around him right now. You don’t want to be around anyone, really.

You take a deep breath, gently drop his hands, and say, “I think I need some space.”

You can’t look Steve in the eye, but you hear the pain in his voice when he says, “Oh. Um, okay. Yeah. Of course. Space.”

You two sit in awkward silence while you wait for your mom to arrive. When she gets there, Steve continues to be a gentleman, carrying your bag for you and politely making small talk with your mom. He gives you a hug goodbye, but it doesn’t linger the way his hugs usually do.

As your mom drives away, you watch your boyfriend get smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

Before leaving, you promised him you’d call him that night.

You conveniently “forget” to do that.

He leaves a message at 9:37 p.m., asking you to call him back.

You don’t.

🫀🫀🫀

NOVEMBER 1987

“Hey, babe. It’s Steve. Again. I know we agreed on ‘space’ but I haven’t heard from you in three weeks…I don’t want to rush or smother you, but I’d really like to talk, even if it’s for, like, five minutes. So please call me back. I love you, Y/N.”

-

“Hey Y/N. Are you doing okay? Robin says she saw you and your mom at the store the other day and you just seemed kind of…out of it. To be honest, I’m worried about you. Listen, even if you don’t…even if we…even if you’ve decided you don’t want to be with me anymore, or something, I still care about you. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Please call me. Bye. Love you.”

-

“Hi Y/N, I’m coming back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving. Can I come by after you and your parents have dinner? I want to check in. On how you’re doing, and on how you’re feeling about ‘us.’ Let me know, okay? Bye, Y/N.”

-

“Hey. I’m going to swing by your place after I’ve finished Thanksgiving dinner with the Buckleys. Robin told me you’ve been avoiding her too. And Eddie, and Jonathan. I know you’re going through a tough time, but don’t try to do it alone. That’s a lesson I learned the hard way last year. I’ll see you tonight, all right?” 

🫀🫀🫀

You’ve spent the past month and a half wallowing. All you really do is sleep, eat, shower, and take short walks around your neighborhood for exercise. Any time Steve calls the house phone, you tell your parents to let it ring and let it go to voicemail.

It’s shitty of you, but you aren’t sure how to dig yourself out of this hole that you’ve found yourself in. You’re still feeling rather undeserving of Steve.

So when he shows up on your doorstep on Thanksgiving, wearing that maroon sweater that you’ve always just adored, the first thing you do is apologize for your radio silence. Then, you offer him pumpkin pie.

“I won’t say no,” he says. “As long as you split it with me.”

While your parents cuddle on the couch and watch It’s A Wonderful Life, you and Steve sit on the kitchen counter and eat slices of pie with whipped cream.

For a few minutes, you exchange small talk and pleasantries. Then, Steve gets down to business.

“How have you been doing, really?” Steve asks.

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Y/N,” Steve says with a sigh. “Please just be honest with me.”

You suck in a breath.

“Okay. You want honesty? I’m having a really hard time.”

“I know,” Steve says gently. “And I want to help. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”

You consider it. You consider wrenching your heart open for him and admitting all your fears and insecurities. But last time you broached this subject with Steve and tried to be wholly honest about what you were feeling, you didn’t explain it right and he took it the wrong way.

And you also hear what sounds like Rochelle’s voice in your mind: He deserves better. He deserves better.

You save yourself the trouble and say, “I need to get my shit together. And I’m not being a very good girlfriend while I do, so I think we need to break up.”

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel tears coming on. Everything only worsens when you hear Steve whisper, “What?” 

He deserves better. He deserves better. He deserves better than you.

“I have to focus on myself right now,” you continue as the tears roll down your cheeks. You stab your pie with your fork and say, “I’m sorry. I love you so much—”

“I love you too, Y/N, so I—”

“—but I need to deal with this on my own. It’s not fair of me to treat you like this.” You clear your throat and add, “You deserve someone who can give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want,” Steve says. You can’t look at him, but you get the impression that he’s tearing up too. “I mean, if this is really what you want, I’ll respect your decision completely, but I just have to know—is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You don’t want to do this—

—but he deserves better.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Steve says after a beat. “Even if we aren’t together anymore, I’m still here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, still decimating your pie slice with your fork.

“Okay, good.” He sniffles.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” 

“Sorry. Ah, I mean—”

Steve chuckles, despite everything. You two share an awkward hug goodbye before he leaves.

You stay in the kitchen and hear him wish your parents “Happy holidays.” As you hear the front door open and shut, as you hear his car turn on and drive away, you try to convince yourself this was the correct choice. That shutting him out means he’ll live a happier life without you.

The pit of emptiness like a chasm in your soul will go away eventually, right?

🫀🫀🫀

FEBRUARY 1988

It’s been 3 months since you broke up with Steve.

You decided to defer your U of I enrollment. Steve, being a good friend, calls a few days before the semester starts asking if you’d like help moving into your dorm, and you break the news to him. He understands but sounds disappointed. It makes you feel terrible.

But this is the right choice. You aren’t ready to be away from home, away from your parents, even if it’s just a couple hours away.

You start taking community college classes to fill your time and get some credits, along with working at Bradley’s Big Buy as a stocker. It’s mindless, monotonous work. It’s kind of perfect.

What isn’t so perfect is your therapist, Elaine. She’s nice enough. But she doesn’t seem to get it. You aren’t able to fully tell her what you went through, considering she knows nothing about the Upside Down, so she can’t really help you.

When you start opening up about the dark thoughts worming their way through your mind, Elaine advocates strongly and staunchly for putting yourself out there and making new friends to fill the void. You’re starting to wonder if you’re wasting your time shelling out $50 a week.

You do think a better social life would be good for you, so you invite Robin, Eddie, and Jonathan to come over to your place for a horror movie marathon. (Nancy would be invited too, if she wasn’t away at school.) You’ve rented a D-level slasher trilogy about a man in a hockey mask attacking pageant queens. It’s small potatoes compared to what you’ve actually been through.

Jonathan agrees, but both Robin and Eddie tell you they can’t make it. Robin because she’s got the flu. Eddie because he has band practice all afternoon and into the night.

It stings like a barb ripping you open when you swing by Melvald’s for cheap movie candy and spot the two of them across the street, laughing as they head into the Hawk with…Steve, who must be home from school for the weekend.

So they do want to have a movie night. Just with Steve and not you. Message received.

You wonder if Steve said something to sour you in their eyes. You thought the breakup was amicable. You know he was upset by it, but he respected your decision. And he doesn’t seem like the type to badmouth an ex, especially after all you’ve been through together.

But anxiety rolls through your nervous system the rest of the day. As you and Jonathan watch the crappy movies, you just feel numb.

“Jee-sus!” Jonathan yelps as the killer’s chainsaw hacks through someone’s limb.

He glances your way, eyebrows raising. “What? That didn’t scare you?”

You shrug. “I’ve seen worse.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. He leans over and pauses the movie.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can watch something else. Or, if you’d rather be alone, I can head out.”

You pick at a loose thread on the pillow in your lap.

“Are Robin and Eddie mad at me?” you whisper.

“What?” Jonathan says with a laugh. “You’re, like, the nicest person in a fifty-mile radius. Why would they be mad at you?”

The old you was nice. The current you is moody. But Jonathan is also pretty moody, so maybe your moodiness is baseline in his eyes.

“They both said they couldn’t come tonight,” you continue, “but then I saw them just an hour ago in downtown Hawkins heading into the Hawk with Steve. Why else would they make up excuses not to come unless they were mad?”

Jonathan takes a long, slow sip of his grape soda and shrugs.

“It’s probably because they don’t want you to think they chose Steve over you in the breakup.”

“But that’s exactly what they did!”

“Maybe not,” Jonathan says. “Maybe they just made the plans with Steve before you invited us over and it’s easier to turn down your invitation than cancel on him.”

That’s a very logical way of looking at it, but it still stings feeling like you’ve lost two friends since you and Steve aren’t together anymore.

You and Jonathan continue watching, but his mom calls halfway through the second movie, forcing him to leave early—something about El using telekinesis to turn her bed into a bunk bed and it backfiring horribly.

You try to push your worries out of your mind, but paranoia takes a hold. As you toss and turn in your bed that night, clutching Lambchop for a semblance of comfort, your brain bullies you.

Robin and Eddie are pissed at you. Probably because you haven’t gone to any Corroded Coffin shows since you’ve been back. You’ve been a little preoccupied.

A little selfish, more like. It doesn’t matter what you’re going through. You should still support your friends.

But why? You don’t like drinking alcohol anymore because you don’t like feeling out of control. And the Hideout is the only place Corroded Coffin plays, and that place reeks of booze and cigarettes and bad decisions.

Maybe that’s why Eddie’s mad. Is Robin mad by proxy? Did Steve shit-talk you to her? How did he describe the events of the breakup?

Were you a bad girlfriend? Are you a bad friend? Bad person?

Yes. You’re a bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

You happen to run into Robin on the community college’s campus the following Monday. You can’t help but ask if she’s feeling better.

Her eyes widen and she plasters on a smile.

“O-oh, yeah!” she says. “I’m feeling loads better. Tons! Tons better.”

“Your sinus infection is gone?” you prompt, knowing full well she told you it was the flu.

“Yep! All gone. My sinuses are as healthy as can be. I feel like I could live to be 100!”

You exchange a few more pleasantries and shuffle off.

🫀🫀🫀

MARCH 1988

There’s a dark cloud hovering over your mind. Most days, you’re lethargic. You go to classes and go to work, and you do start going to the Hideout on Tuesday nights with Jonathan and Robin to watch Eddie play with his band.

But that’s the extent of your social life. You’re feeling lonely and drained.

Things take a turn for the worse in March. It was a cold, cold winter in Hawkins, and spring is shaping up to be warmer but just as gloomy. Really bad thunderstorms shake the windowpanes of your house most days, and the streaks of lightning remind you so much of the grayish-yellow Upside Down sky, it makes you sick.

You can’t help but find yourself thinking you want to disappear to escape it all. Not die, exactly. But fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Maybe when you woke up, things would be better.

You try to explain what you’re feeling to Elaine the Therapist, and she doesn’t understand what you meant in the slightest.

“Have you gotten checked for narcolepsy?” she asks.

You give her a tight smile and say you’ll ask your doctor about it at your next checkup.

A bright spot is when Robin invites you to a party at her apartment. You forgot her and Eddie’s little white lie from a few weeks ago and RSVP yes.

The party is going well. You’re having a nice conversation with Jonathan and Eddie when Steve walks in, and he’s not alone.

Your heart sinks to your feet, through the floor, and all the way to the core of the earth when you see Steve is joined by Rochelle.

You don’t even hear any of the conversations happening around you. You quickly excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water—and because you need to be alone.

You get about 15 seconds of a reprieve before Steve enters.

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” he says quickly.

“Hello to you too, Steve,” you say. You can’t even look him in the eye, choosing instead to study the ice cubes in your glass.

“I’m not here with Rochelle,” Steve continues. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yes, she’s here. And I’m here. And we’re here together. But not together together! God, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“None at all.”

“She needed a ride to her parents’ house for the weekend,” Steve explains. “She lives just forty-five minutes from here. But I guess they were out of town, and she didn’t have a key, so she’s staying with me. And she didn’t want to spend all day in my house alone, so—”

“She’s here,” you finish for him. You finally look him in the eye and force a smile. “That’s fine, Steve. You can hang out with whoever you want.”

“Trust me,” Steve snorts. “I’d rather not be hanging out with her. I’m just doing her a favor because she’s friends with Jessica and Gus.”

Before you can respond, Rochelle saunters into the kitchen. She smiles like a shark—all gums and teeth.

“Oh, it’s you!” she says. “Y/N! How have you been?”

“Fine,” you say politely. “How about you?”

“Oh, just great. Really great. Sad to not see you around campus, though. I thought you enrolled?”

She has the impressive capability of making everything single sentence sound like an insult.

“I’m going to community college instead,” you explain. “But I really should get back out there.”

You give Steve and Rochelle a wide berth before stepping back into the living room.

The rest of the party goes by fine. Except you can’t quite contain your rage watching Rochelle throw herself at Steve all afternoon.

She sits too close to him. She constantly whispers in his ear and giggles, like they’re sharing inside jokes and secrets. While Robin’s putting on a movie for everyone to watch, you swear you even see Rochelle put her hand on Steve’s thigh.

The only thing that makes you feel better is that Steve blocks every one of these advances. While Eddie regales you all with a Corroded Coffin storytime, you even notice Steve's slotted himself in between Robin and the wall, forcing Rochelle to stand off to the side near a potted plant.

When the party’s over, you wish Robin well and try to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately, Steve has a terrible habit of noticing everything about you, and he follows you out.

“Hey, wait up!” he calls, jogging behind you as you speed walk to your car to avoid the sprinkling rain.

“Sorry, I have to go,” you say, struggling to unlock your car door.

Before you can get it unlocked and make your escape, Steve places a hand over the driver’s side door handle.

“Hold on,” he says. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Well, I have to get home—”

“This’ll take five minutes,” Steve promises. He traces an X over his heart. “Cross my heart, hope to cry.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion. “It’s ‘die.’”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.’”

Steve’s eyes widen and jaw drops, affronted. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “Why would anyone ever want to do that?”

“That’s the point!” you say, and you can’t help but laugh at the appalled look on his face. “You don’t want to do that, so you keep the promise.”

“Ah. Okay, well, I’ll be fast. I just want to see how you’ve been doing these past few months. I—I miss you, you know?”

You swallow hard. The rain’s starting to pick up now. You don’t want to wait too much longer to drive home, or else it’ll be too hard to see. And if you see lightning, you’ll probably have a panic attack behind the wheel, making you a danger to yourself and others.

“I miss you too,” you say. “But I really, really need to get home now.”

You think of leaving it at that, but your heart feels as sad as the look on his face, so you add, “But you can come by my house later tonight and we can talk? Uh, how’s 8 sound?”

Steve’s face brightens. He gives you that smile that always makes your stomach do a backflip.

“I’d like that,” he says.

You smile back and open your car door. Before stepping in, you turn to him and say, “Do not bring Rochelle.”

“Cross my whatever and hope to who-gives-a-shit!” Steve says as he walks backward away from your car. You give him a small wave, which he returns, before getting in the car and driving off.

As you suspected, the drive home is much, much too anxiety-inducing. Thunder seems to shake the whole frame of the car as you drive across town. Rain falls in pails, as if angels are taking buckets and throwing them on your car specifically. Your windshield wipers can barely keep up, and cars are honking and passing you since your fear is causing you to drive about ten under the speed limit.

You try not to let that bother you as your hands grip the wheel for dear life, the muscles from your fingers up to your shoulders impossibly tense. There’s a reason your mom drove you everywhere last summer and fall. Getting back into the habit of operating a motor vehicle isn’t easy, and everything seems to scare you now.

Despite everything, the drive is going fine—until one of the cars passing you cuts a little too close as they swerve back into the right lane. They almost clip your front bumper, which causes you to panic and swerve off the road near the now defunct trailer park.

Your tires squeak on the wet grass and you slam on your breaks, heart pounding. Shuddery breaths draw in, out. In, out. You try and collect yourself and turn your left turn signal on to merge back onto the main road. However, something gray out of the corner of your eye causes you to whip your head in the direction of the trailer park.

This is where you died and were resurrected—well, the version of this in the Upside Down. In Hawkins, the area is cordoned off. No one can live there anymore, thanks to the big cracks in the earth. Once gates, they were now sealed, but they upended some trailers and tore others in two.

You see a flash of movement between two broken trailers. The gates are supposed to be closed, and there aren’t supposed to be Upside Down creatures in Hawkins anymore, but you can’t help but wonder alternatives. You feel compelled to check it out. 

You turn off your car’s ignition, grab the flashlight from your glove box, and clamor out, ducking under the “CAUTION” tape and jogging into the park. You squint in the rain, the beam of your flashlight scanning the surrounding area. You step over uneven earth, wondering if you’re wasting your time and should just—

“GRRRRRROWWWLLLL!!!!!”

You whip around and gasp. The gray creature you saw wasn’t a demo-creature, but a mangy, stray dog with muddy fur. It snaps its jaws and you see three little puppies cowering under a bush behind it.

An overprotective mama dog wouldn’t have scared you two years ago. You would’ve known exactly how to handle the situation without freaking out. But now, your fear spikes and you remember the few run-ins with hungry demodogs you had in the Upside Down. The dog is blocking your way back to your car, so you turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction, toward the imposing forest.

You can’t think clearly. Your mind is on fire. All you can think is Danger! Danger! Danger! And it’s keeping you from making any rational decisions.

You swear you hear the dog chasing behind you, snarling and ready to attack. You zig-zag between trees and glance behind to see if you really are being chased.

You lose your footing on slick mud, left ankle twisting painfully as you fall to the ground. Your flashlight skitters out of your grasp and rolls away, blinking out.

Now, you’re stuck in the rain, in the dark, with an injured ankle and no flashlight. Thankfully, the dog wasn’t following. But you feel powerless, hoping you can muster any survival instincts from your time in the Upside Down to make your way back to safety.

🫀🫀🫀

At 7:58 p.m., Steve parks outside your house.

He’s more nervous than he needs to be. He tries to remember that this isn’t a visit to win you back, as much as he wishes it was. No, he’s respecting your decision. But he’s glad he has the chance to just talk to you.

After you dumped him, he spent way too much time overanalyzing that fight you two had in October. It solidified the fact that he was an ass, completely misunderstanding you and getting mad for no good fucking reason.

Admittedly, he was tempted to throw away all his progress and drink away his misery. But he didn’t, channeling that energy toward more productive things. His mind is clearer than it was, and he’s going to make it right this time. Steve wants to check on you, the way his friends checked on him while he was having a tough time. Their support was invaluable.

Steve rings your doorbell, shaking out his umbrella.

The front door swings open. Your father looks expectant, before he frowns.

“Steve, hello,” your father says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m supposed to meet her here.”

Your father curses and puts his head in his hands.

“Is it her?” your mother says, rushing around the corner with the cordless phone tucked under her shoulder. When she sees Steve, her shoulders slump. She speaks into the phone, “Hopper, she’s still not back.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, heart sinking. “Y/N’s missing?”

“She never came back from Robin’s party,” your father says, stepping aside to let Steve in. “You saw her leave, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a nod. His mouth feels very, very dry.

Your mother continues murmuring on the phone with Hopper, and your father continues grilling Steve: “How was she? Did she seem upset?”

“A little nervous, maybe,” Steve says. He swallows hard. “I, uh, I think she was freaked out by the storm.”

You should’ve driven her home, Steve thinks. You idiot. If something happens to her, it’ll be your fault.

“She’s been so quiet lately,” your father says, voice strained. He clears his throat. “And so jumpy. But she said she wanted to start driving again. We thought she was getting better…”

Your father looks like he’s beside himself. Steve is unsure what to say to make things right.

Your mother hangs up the phone and sighs. “Hopper’s going to go look for her,” she says. She chokes out a sob. “Oh, Roger…she’s been so down lately. What if she…”

“Let’s not speculate,” your father says firmly, though he looks anxious about the possibilities.

Your parents decide to drive around looking for you, and Steve joins the search in his own car as well. He can’t sit idly by knowing you’re out there, possibly in distress, possibly in danger.

🫀🫀🫀

While you’re sitting against a tree trunk trying to shield yourself from the rain, there’s a morbid part of you that’s okay with this.

You wanted something bad to happen. You wanted to be in some kind of distress, because you being hurt means people have to care about you. Right? They have to really, truly see that you’ve been struggling but haven’t been able to ask for proper help.

You snap yourself out of that thought process, trying to remind yourself that people do care about you. But it’s hard to feel that way when you’ve put so much distance between yourself and the people you love.

You aren’t sure how long you sit in the rain having a pity party, watching your swollen ankle get bigger and bigger. You need to ice it and elevate it. And anytime longer in this rain, you’ll catch a cold.

So, you crawl on your hands and knees and find as sturdy a branch as you can on the forest floor. You use it as a pseudo walking stick to help you hobble back toward the trailer park. You know the way, thanks to your time traversing the forest daily in the Upside Down.

As you get closer to the break in the trees, you hear people calling for you. You shuffle there faster.

“I’m here!” you yell, stumbling through the tree line. “I’m here!”

It’s Chief Powell and Hopper, and they look relieved to see you. Officer Callahan and an animal control worker are trying to coax the mama dog and her three pups into crates.

“What happened, kid?” Hopper asks, sitting with you in the backseat of Powell’s truck while the other man radios for an ambulance and a tow truck for your car. The usual gruff timbre to Hopper's voice has a softened edge to it today, like he can sense your emotional fragility.

“Some jerk pushed me off the road. And I thought I saw…I—listen, the mud made the dog’s fur look gray, and I thought it was—”

“One of these hellhounds?”

You nod.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” Hopper says. “But it’s been two years to the day since you…you know.”

You swallow hard.

“I didn’t remember,” you admit. “I mean, I knew the anniversary was coming up soon, I just…”

“We were all worried you…did something,” Hopper continues cautiously.

“I wouldn’t,” you say, much too quickly. “I mean, I feel like shit a lot of the time, but…no. I wouldn’t.”

Hopper nods, eyeing you. He doesn’t quite look convinced.

When the ambulance arrives, he rides with you to the hospital. Then, your parents meet you at the ER, while a doctor looks over your ankle.

It’s sprained, but not broken, thankfully. They send you home with a brace, some crutches, painkillers, and instructions to elevate and ice.

The whole drive home, your parents give you a speech about how much they love you and how they want to know how you’re doing, and that if you ever feel low, to talk to them because they can help. Normally, that kind of thing would annoy you, but after today—the fear of seeing what you thought was a demodog, of being back in the wilderness by yourself, even just for a few hours—you appreciate the gesture.

It's after midnight when you get home, and the rain has finally let up. Your dad helps you up the porch stairs, leaning the side with your bad leg against him the whole way. You almost don’t notice the note tacked to the front door until your mom points it out.

It has your name on it. You open it. Parts of it have been scratched out, but you can still read it all.

Hey, Y/N. I was driving around looking for you when Hopper found me. I’m so glad to hear that you’re going to be okay.

I’ll swing by tomorrow to chat, if you’re still up for it. If not, no worries. I know it’s a tough time. I just want you to know that I miss you I care about you more than you know I’m here.

-Steve

🫀🫀🫀

When Steve comes by the next day, he’s not alone.

You’re surprised to see him and Max Mayfield standing on your porch.

“Uh, hello!” you say. “How are you, Max?”

“Pretty good,” she says, “now that Steve is taking us for ice cream.”

You raise your eyebrows and adjust your stance on your crutches.

“Oh!” you say. You look to Steve. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Everything about his posture is tense, nervous. You wonder if this is an intervention or something—if you’ll arrive at the ice cream shop and be bombarded by the rest of your friends and a licensed professional promising a “safe space.”

You tell your parents where you’re going, promising a million times that you’ll be careful, and hobble down the porch steps to Steve’s waiting car. He’s a gentleman, one hand hovering behind your back and ready to catch you if you fall.

Max lets you have the passenger seat, likely due to your injury. On the ride over, you consider (politely) asking what she’s doing there, as you expected this conversation would be about the nature of your and Steve’s relationship.

A part of you deep, deep down had hoped he would beg you to take him back. A part of you deeper down felt selfish for that, but it was what you wanted.

You made a huge mistake letting him go.

Steve ends up taking you both to Sonic, pulling into one of the parking spots and pressing the “Order” button. Max leans up from the backseat, sticking her head between the two front seats, and rattles off a complicated order of hot dogs, fries, slushies, and ice cream into the speaker.

“I thought this was just ice cream,” you say with an eyebrow raised.

Max smirks.

“Moneybags Harrington is paying,” she says, patting him on the shoulder.

“I resent that,” Steve grouses. But there’s a sparkle in his eye.

When the food comes, Steve divvies it up amongst the three of you. However, he quickly comes up with a shoddy excuse to step out of the car—something about the fries being a medium instead of a large.

Max climbs over the center console to settle in the driver’s seat.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you’re alone with Max, but it’s definitely not, “Dying and coming back really sucks, doesn’t it?”

Your burger immediately tastes like sandpaper. “Oh, let’s not talk about that,” you say. “Let’s talk about fun things. Have you learned any new skate tricks recently?”

“Don’t deflect,” Max says, waving a french fry at you for emphasis. “Steve said you were having a hard time because no one could relate to you, and I’m probably the only person in the world who can.”

She’s not wrong. After your return to the right side of the universe, you learned that Max woke up from her coma, completely healed, after you killed Vecna and the gates closed. You hadn’t thought about how the two of you had similar, paralleled experiences.

“It does suck,” you say quietly, swirling your spoon around in your ice cream cup. “And I kind of feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“For me, it was a lot of anger,” Max says. She fidgets with her own food as she continues. “I couldn’t understand people’s priorities anymore. Like, what do you mean you’re worried about a chem test, Dustin? A few months ago, the world almost ended!”

“I totally get that,” you say, and your heart already feels lighter. “And my parents don’t understand what really happened, so they just don’t get me at all. Why I get so scared, so angry. So jumpy. It makes me feel like I’m a freak in their eyes.”

“I feel like my mom doesn’t even see me anymore,” Max says. She clears her throat and you catch a glimpse of tears gathering on her lash line before she roughly wipes them away. “Like to her, I’m a ghost.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say. She scoffs.

“And there’s another annoying thing,” Max says. “The empty platitudes to make us feel better. That shit doesn’t fix anything!”

You’re not offended by her outburst, because you honestly agree. The two of you lament a bit longer, and by the end of the conversation, you’re feeling on top of the world. Sure, nothing is really fixed. But you finally realize that you have a kindred spirit in all this.

You and Max make a plan to do things together more often. You’re seeing her as a de facto little sister already, and you’re hopeful that your planned meetings will be just as beneficial for her as they are for you.

Steve comes back after what seems like a millennium, shooing Max back to the backseat.

“Took you long enough!” she says.

He just smiles.

🫀🫀🫀

JUNE 1988

It’s the first day of summer.

And it’s been a year to the day since you returned.

You expect to feel more anxious than you do. Instead, you feel peaceful.

You’re doing a lot better, genuinely. You found a new therapist (sorry, Elaine) and since it’s someone who worked with Dr. Owens, you’re able to spill all the gory details of your past and your trauma. Healing isn’t easy, but you feel yourself slowly sewing yourself back together again.

You and Max stick to your word and take weekly trips to Sonic. You talk about the heavy stuff, but also the normal life stuff. You sometimes have guests. This past week, Lucas and Mike tagged along, arguing the whole time about what should happen in the Ghostbusters sequel that’s supposed to release next year.

You and Steve…ah, what’s there to say. You want him back, but you imploded the relationship and it feels selfish to waltz up to him and say, “Hey, hot stuff. Wanna get back together?”

However, you’ve officially enrolled for the fall semester at U of I. While he’s home from Hawkins for summer break, under the guise of asking for tips about campus life, you spend a lot of time with him.

You also spend time in the library, doing some studying to catch up before you start your classes in the fall. Your high school graduation was a lifetime ago. Literally.

Steve, Robin, and Jonathan join you for those summertime study sessions, although Jonathan and Robin usually bicker over the music theory books and Steve doesn’t get much done except for doodling in his notebook. But sometimes you catch him staring at you, and then his cheeks flush pink in that adorable way that makes you want to do something stupid, like beg him to take you back.

If only you knew if he really felt the same…

…which you find out he does, during the summer solstice.

You’re at the county fair with your friends, but they’ve all run off to watch the fireworks, so it’s just you and Steve at a picnic table downing sodas and cotton candy.

Your fingers wrap around the cool glass of a now-empty Coke bottle, and you place it on the tabletop. You attempt to look nonchalant as you spin it slowly.

Once it’s picked up momentum, you let it go, watching it spin a few more times before stopping it with your hand when the bottle neck points at Steve.

“It’s you,” you whisper, attempting to recreate that magical first kiss moment from years and years ago. You clear your throat at Steve’s dumbfounded expression. “Ah, sorry. You don’t have to kiss me. I was just…”

To your pleasant surprise, Steve’s face splits into a grin. “Well, gee, Y/N,” he says. “If you wanted to kiss me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

A million canaries titter a love song in your heart as he leans forward.

The two of you kiss, for the first time in a long time.

The great divide in your soul is starting to seal. And everything feels right.

THE END

🫀🫀🫀

a/n please lmk what you thought 🩵

tags; @aloneinthehellfire @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @wisdomssdaughterr @huffledor-able541 @springautumn

@sunshinesteviee @curiositydooropened @crappymixtape