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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Always have but never hold

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a/n not even deathly pain could keep me away. Hope you all would enjoy this part eight. Think we might be getting close to the end here. Thank you for the love and patience.

warnings: forceful behavior, abusive relationship, degradation, swearing, past trauma, fighting, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual interactions. I think that's all....

Parts in cursive are memories

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You weren't sure if it was you who was on fire or if the room was burning, but no one except you noticed. You kept asking yourself how many fake smiles were too many. Your cheeks were aching. Surely, that was a sign that this was it. You had reached for the empty container, glancing at the pile of open bottles that were lined by the bins. There was no glass container, so you assumed that was how you were meant to store them for now. You dropped your cigarette on the ground carelessly before reaching for the back door handle.

"Down it, sis", the voice found you almost immediately, and a full-body shiver ran through you. Here they all were. You used to like them. Dreamed of being a part of their friend group. Maybe still did. It was all so confusing. So rough around the edges. You shook your head, "Good for now", you smiled, dropping the crate near the other still-full boxes of booze. "Ask your bitch, dude. It seems like she barks just for you", one of the guys said, as you bit the inside of your cheek, anger started to bubble within you. Ezra's friend treated you like their beating bag most times. And he... Well, you would hope he would opt to stand up for you, but...

"Drink", your boyfriend nodded towards the glass of whatever concoction their high selves had created. Your eyes met his. The room seemed to quiet down. The rest of the group was smiling from ear to ear. This was free entertainment for them. "I don't want to", you muttered under your breath as u's and boo's filled the room. And there was that twisted look on Ezra's face as he crooked his head. Daring you silently to say that one more time. You know that the best option here was to nod and step forward, but you found yourself shaking your head instead.

And then it was all a blur. Your brain was too slow at processing how and when Ezra had crossed the distance between the two of you. When he grabbed your hand. Turned to yank you up the stairs. You were convinced that you heard giggles as you went from the grope. And then a rough shove. A cold wall. The breath was knocked out of your lungs. A harsh hold was on your jaw as he spat, "You dare to embrace me like that, huh?", your lower lip wobbled. "Can you fucking do what you're told? Why do you have to be so useless?", for a flicker his face morphed into Carmys, and you tried to shake your head.

"I don't want this", you said. For so long, too afraid to say anything about it. Ezra had laughed, "You ungrateful bitch", and then he was dragging you across the bedroom. Shoving you through the closest doors "What are you doing?", you had managed to mutter before you heard a click and all color drained from your face. You gave the door a little push, but they didn't budge. He had locked you in. "No, Ez, please no. Open the door", the panic started to spread. As you banged your palms against the door, "Open the door, open the door, please", but there was no answer or reply, "Don't leave me here; open the door, open the door".

You had pulled your face out of the freezing stream of water. Usually, the sound of water all around you drowned out the noises in your head. Brought you as far as your childhood days went. When you would leap from the little bridge into the cold lake water, and all the buzzing excitement. The laughter. Anything and everything would die down the moment you were deep within the water. Time would stop. There was only that moment. A moment of stillness. And then the body would rise again.

It was a wimp, truly. Nothing more. Nothing less. You were fidgety and uneasy ever since you landed in Chicago. And the thing was that the flight itself was such a wuss too. A rush of adrenaline. All the emotions bubbled up so extensively that it was too much. They were too suffocating. You had to go. Couldn't stay in one place for long. It felt like your body was going to explode otherwise. Like your brain was going to take off running and you wouldn't be able to keep up with it.

You left Luca with a note as you slipped out of bed in the middle of the night. A part of you felt guilty about that. The other, however, knew that it was he who put this into motion. It was so easy with him. Always so easy. You never second-guessed. You didn't need to have any of your guards up. Because Luka knew you. Inside and out. You doubted there was a flaw in your body that you hadn't shown to him and that he, in return, hadn't held with such delicate care.

You sank to the shower floor, bringing your knees closer to your chest as the water poured down your naked frame. You weren't even sure how you ended up at the restaurant. That same urge had brought you there, no doubt. Must have. A curiosity. A poisonous inkling. What if Carmy was there, and so was she? What then? You would just know that he spends his afternoons with her. Cooks for her with the love that he poured into the dishes he had made for you back then? That he had finally replaced you. That you were again nothing more than a piece of trash beneath someone's shoe that one was eager to shake off. But there was no Claire there. There was no sign of dinner plates being shared. There was no smell of food. Just a fire. A big, blazing fire and Carmen was reaching toward it. And then there was your pulling at him. You dragging him away. The pounding in your ears as you looked over his hands for any signs of irritated skin, a burn, or blisters forming. And he was just staring at you as if you were Venus itself, who had stepped out of one of Botticelli's paintings. Holy figure. A vision.

"Fucking breathe", you had barked at him when Carmen just kept on blurring your name over and over again. You started to hate the sound of it. The sound of anything. And then Carmen pulled you into his embrace, and you let him. And a part of you melted for the time being. It felt as if finally. Finally, you had found the exact thing that you had been craving, and the thought of it until this moment was making you sick. It felt like that sweet sensation of relief when you finally get the itchy spot on your body that you just couldn't seem to grasp for so long.

To Carmen, it too felt like this was it. Finally, you were here, and it would all start to fall into place, but then there was you. Pushing against his chest as you tried to get away from him. And he wanted to fight that. He held you close against him, but he knew it was wrong. That was your choice to make. It was your shot to call, and he was not going to take it away from you. Carmen wasn't all that surprised as he met your angry, blazing eyes. "Do you have a death wish? Does... Has no one told you that you don't...", you rambled on, "Fuck, Carmen". And if only you knew how many things he wanted to tell you. The thought itself overwhelmed him. Carmen wasn't even sure where to start. What to say first? Which words were more important? Had more value? But nothing came out of his mouth. He stood there, staring at you.

"Are you high or something? Have you been taking some shit?", you moved closer to inspect his pupils. Carmen realized. "No, no...", he muttered. It was taking all of his strength to not let his hands touch your hips, just as he was used to. Just how it had been so natural for him, but then he was so hyper-aware that any wrong or poor choice would push you away. "I've...", Carmen had rasped out before you cut in, "Does anything hurt?"

And Carmen saw it in your eyes. That same care, that same longing to protect him. To look after him. He saw you once again snarling at his mother as you threw the remaining white lilies her way. A warning finger pointed at her as you said, "You don't raise a hand at him". Carmen had never felt so safe before. Of course, the desire to protect you was there too. Strong and itching, and he has always had and always will protect you. But it was your will to fight for him that lit something up within him.

Carmy was about to reach for you, to ask the same question, to make sure that you two were safe, and then... "Bunny, you're okay?", Carmy's brain must have shut down for a moment. As he watched you turn away from him, all the attention slipped elsewhere. To someone who has opened all of the doors by now. Who had a towel in his hand. Fanning the smoke away. The fire alarms should have gone off. Why didn't they? Was this too broken? Something Richie failed to mention. Fucking Richie...

And then Carmy couldn't seem to move because... He watches as Luca, the fucking Luca of all people, approached you. How he rested his palms over your cheeks. How you didn't pull away. How you let him touch you. Touch you as Carmen used to. His fists clenched as he watched. "I'm fine; I didn't... I just pulled him away. What are you doing here?", and there's no anger or frustration in your tone. None of it as you spoke with him, but it was just there seconds ago. Directed right at Carmen. It's the way Luca nodded, tugging a strand of your hair behind your lips, that set something loose in Camen. A blinding rage. A soaring desire to just...

You barely managed to catch it. Carmen's hands come into contact with Luca's side. It wasn't a punch. A shove, but a shove nonetheless. It sent you stumbling slightly as well. Just from the shared fact that Luca was still holding onto you, your eyes fell on Carmen. The deadly. The angry look he carried. The sick look on his face. A picture from the past. A glimpse. A... "What are you... Stop it!", you shouted, trying to thread your hands through the tangle of limbs. As Luka too turned to Carmen, the messenger here was clear: "Fucking. Fuck no, stop", you still tried as they took fistfuls of one another's shirts. Getting way too close in each other's personal space.

But then it's the old house. You're barely standing. You barely have clothes on. Luca with a cut on his eyebrow. The warm blood had trickled down the side of his face. You can only see fragments through your teary eyes, but you push in between them, shoveling as hard as you can, "Stop, Ezra, stop". The room suddenly stills. Your body feels frozen. You open your eyes, and it's Carmy who's looking at you. His arms had fallen to the side as he looked you over, even more confused than before. Your hand quickly came up to cover your mouth.

"Oh, so there's more than just one?", Carmy's words made your guts twist. The little, helpless, defenseless girl was standing back here. Shaking her head. "You don't understand", you muttered back, "You don't know anything". Now it was Carmen shaking his head as his eyes moved between you and Luca. "And you dared to blame me?", now that set flames within you as you stepped forward, "I was never disloyal to you! It was you who dragged that girl back home", "You've been fucking him these last weeks?", but your palm came into contact with his chest as you gave it a light shove. "Don't you dare call me names, Carmen"? You hold his gaze for a moment longer before dropping it as you turn to rush out of one of the open doors. The shake of Luca's head as he followed you out, "You've stepped low, mate". And Carmy was left to watch as Luca finally caught up to you. How he pulled at your hand to make you slow down. Pulling you into his arms. Even from where Carmen stood in between the doorframe leading to the back alley, he could hear the cries that wrecked you. Carried by the wind. By some upper power. To show him once more that it's you, big guy, who's making her sob like that in the middle of the street. But the jealousy ran thicker this time. Drowning out the inner voice.

Carmen was practically lying on top of you, his face nuzzled into your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair softly. Gently tugging at the roots from time to time. He lifted his head slowly, flashing you a lazy smile that you didn't hesitate to return before his lips started trailing kisses all over your chest and neck. "I wish I could melt into you sometimes", he whispered, breathing in the smell of your skin. The cold chain on his neck brushed against your warm skin, making you shiver slightly. "You're quite literally still inside me", you giggled, and Carmy didn't hesitate to give you a lazy thrust, making you wrap your legs around his lower body once again. You had finally found time for one another after a long and busy spell. So parting seemed like way too much now. Impossible even.

"You're all I've wished to have. The...", his words died down as he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours, "You've begun to feel like home". Your eyes tried to catch him because of those words. Those words were exactly how you were feeling all this time. This. Whatever was between you two always felt bigger. Simple words felt too dull. After all these years of running, you could finally stop. Finally breath. Finally, allow yourself to wrap yourself up in the warmth that was Carmen.

The kisses grew messy and eager. It was so easy to just melt together. To become one and forget about the world. "I want you to sketch the restaurant. Bring the bear to life", Carmen said between kisses, making you still. "What...", you muttered, trying to make him look up at you, abandon the sweet spot on your neck, and just look up at you. "I want you to be a part of it. Want to display your art there", you wanted to believe that this wasn't a blissful delusion as you pulled him to look at you properly, meeting his eyes. Eyes that, yes, were high on love but serious. "Carm, that... that's big...", you stuttered, thinking about what a big step that would be if your silly little creations saw the daylight. As if sensing your worries and your doubts, Carmen quickly packed your lips before kissing the tip of your nose gently and saying, "I love you. Everything about you, I want to show you the world".

You didn't want to see anyone. Didn't want to face people. Luca had sat with you through the night. Had stepped into the shower to drag you out of that freezing stream. Made you a cup of tea. You wanted to just lie down and not think. Not think about Carmen. Get him out of your thoughts. So maybe meeting with Marcus and Sydney was a good idea after all. Maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"I will beat his ass for real", Sydney huffed as she twirled the pasta Luca had made for everyone around the fork. You had finally told her everything. You needed to get it off your chest, and it felt nice. To have someone. Someone who wasn't just Luca "Don't; I already dragged Luca into this", you let your gaze drift to him. Flour covered his hands as he showed Marcus how to form different shapes of pastry. And Marcus, who looked like a kid in the candy shop. Eyes sparkling. He gave him a concentrated look as he nodded at everything that Luca said.

"He cares about you a lot", Sydney said, making you drop your gaze as you let out a sigh, "I'm convinced that he's my guardian angel". You pushed the food around the plate, letting the moment of silence fall over the two of you. "And Carmen and him? Their friends", you let out a snicker at that, "I... I met Carmen properly because of Luca".

You were laying on the sofa, your head hanging from the side, as you listened to Luca speak, "It's just a couple of chefs. Please, I need backup". You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "You need backup? As if... Plus that dick of a roommate is out tonight... I want to enjoy my peace". It wasn't that you two bumped into one another often, but even when you did, it was too much. So with him gone and it being a Friday night, the possibilities were endless. "I need you. There will be some pretty big dogs there. You ground me".

That's how you found yourself in someone's apartment. With trays of food in hands, helping Luca carry everything that he had already made and was going to make while there. That's where you met Charlie and his pregnant girlfriend Mimi. Two girls from the restaurant, Mario, the dude from Ireland, and... Carmen... Your fucking roommate. One that had been snarling at your boxed mac and cheese. To whose coffee you added salt because he had gotten on your nerves. But something also felt different. As if you two had finally seen one another. Stopped and properly looked. Not just glanced, but looked. And something snapped. As if all the stars finally aligned and you two just couldn't seem to pull your eyes from one another.

"What a coincidence", Carmen muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counter when you two bumped into one another with no one else around. "Or fate", you said, giving him a flashy smile. He had laughed at that, "Feels like fate to you?" You only shrugged your shoulders and said, "Feels like something much bigger", and it was. Because not even a week later, you two were going on your first proper date.

"So, you three are friends?", Sydney asked eagerly, pulling you after the deep thought. "They were never really friends. Too competitive in the kitchen", you muttered. "We had a couple of dinners together, but... I think Carmen was glad when Luca moved to Copenhagen". Sydney was without a doubt about to ask another question when Marcus carefully lowered the plate full of baked goods onto the table. You caught a glimpse of Luca wiping his hands with a towel before mouthing, "Thank you", he only winked your way before he too stepped closer to the table. Listening to Marcus talk about everything that Luca had taught him just now.

"Tell me about your week?", the room was too light for Carmen's liking, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The first drops of sweat covered his forehead. "Bad", he said bluntly. "Would you like to tell me more?", Carmen cringed at her tone. The way she kept tapping her pen onto her notebook. He frowned. "I lost her again,", he admitted. Sure, this was supposed to be a safe space, but he felt so trapped here. The tiny room. The way it was filled with motivational quotes, "She came back, and I... I said everything that I didn't mean to say", he admitted, and the woman instantly asked, "Why?", "Because I'm an idiot", Carmen blurred. "I also think that... I think that... I", he suddenly felt like there was not enough air in the room, "I should let her go. Stop trying to hold onto her; she deserves someone better".

You weren't sure how many cigarettes you smoked. The uneasy feeling didn't budge. Just now, your head was pounding. Shiver after shiver ran down your back. Chicago felt different. Simple because you knew that Carmen was here. You could easily bump into him. He could come to find you. You could do the same. Thirty minutes. That's all it would take, and you would come face-to-face with Carmen. Then it will not be much longer to your appointment. The place that now felt like a fever dream to you. Had he thrown away your stuff? Your paintings? Books? Clothes? You left practically all of your life there.

Were you upset? Yes. Very much so. And it still hurt, and you were sure it would for some time. But you couldn't. It was driving you crazy. Because now you looked at Luca, and you saw Carmy. In the smallest things he did. Things that Carmy too did or said, you missed him. Missed just knowing that he was coming home, no matter how late it was. Not to mention that you were so fucking worried. Because Carmen didn't look like himself. His dull, lost eyes were hunting you now. The way he clung to you. You were starting to wonder what was driving you more insane. The fact that you were so hurt by him or the fact that you missed him so much. You quickly picked up your phone. "Just thinking about Ossobuco", you typed out. Cursing because it felt stupid, and maybe you didn't even mean it, but... "Haven't stopped thinking about it", the message came through not even a minute later. You bit your lip. Trying to keep your emotions at bay. "I'm so sorry, baby", the next one read, and you quickly locked your phone, tossing it onto the sofa. You couldn't. Suddenly, you couldn't watch him fall apart over a text.

Carmy was late. Not like he wasn't late most of the time to those meetings. He doesn't talk much now. Only when there were too many things on his mind. He liked this way more than those private meetings he was having. He heard, and he felt heard. Understood. It helped him listen to others, or it drowned out the pain he was feeling. He sure could have stopped coming. Maybe he even should have, but he found himself pushing the door open every week.

Pulling the hat off his head, Carmen sank into one of the back seats. Brushing his hair away from his face. "We have new faces here today", the lady moderating the meetings said, "Why don't we start with them? Let them share their stories. Of course if that's okay". Carmy fidgeted with his coat, still feeling that same uncomfortable feeling here. That dread. That feeling of Mikey here. That feeling of him watching.

"Ah, hey", Carmy lifted his head so quickly that his vision blurred for a split second. There was no way. Absolutely no way. He gripped the seat in front of him, leaning forward. His heart was beating so fast that he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. "My name is Y/N, and I am...", you swallowed thickly, and Carmen felt bile rising in his throat, "My first ex was an abusive addict".

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#carmy x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmy x oc #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #the bear x you #the bear tv show

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hippolotamus · 4 months

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Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

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"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie

@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

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@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

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@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

#hippo writes #buddie wip #actors au #not what i saw myself doing today #but when is that ever true #fic: lights camera bitch smile #seven sentence sunday #sentence sunday #sunday sentences #do i know what i'm doing?#not a clue

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nocturne-pisces · 9 months

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Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off.

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you.

“What’s up with you?”

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night.

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve.

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.”

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt.

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt.

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust.

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.”

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet.

“What is going on with you?”

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either.

“What, like your period?”

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels.

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar.

“You two. Out.”

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer.

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane.

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties.

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room.

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest.

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle.

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep.

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you.

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?”

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front.

“Yeah, me, shithead.”

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter.

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.”

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!”

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!”

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.”

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun.

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up.

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“

You don’t let him finish. You rush him, connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t.

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward.

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together.

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth.

Because he is beautiful;

and he is broken.

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow.

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache.

So you show him your own.

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress.

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange.

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you.

He happened to you too.

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos.

And that's okay too.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #batfam #batfamily #red hood #not even really sure i like this one

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virq-qgo · 2 years

Text

Listen before I go// Simon (Ghost) Riley

Reader kinda sounds like a wattpad (y/n)- listen I tried to make the reader not sound so stupid but- y’all I’m flabbergasted from how wattpadish this sounds 😭

Pt.2

Warnings: ooc ghost, reader kins (y/n) wattpad. Reader is referred as “you” but use’s she/her pronouns, angst, my writing, character death? Violence, love confessions? Oh, and no editing :))) 🫶❤️

Angst below the cut

“I’m in love with you.” Who knew those five words could’ve brought you so much pain. You were so sure that Simon had returned those same exact feelings. Or why else would he be so kind and heartwarming to you yet stone cold to anyone else.

A trickle of blood escapes your lip as you chuckle. God you hated yourself for confessing to him, otherwise he would’ve still been here and would’ve helped this hidden ambush. But he wasn’t, and you couldn’t take out an army of men all by yourself. But you’ve managed to escape, with a few bullet wounds to say to the least.

And now you were here, sitting against a gratified broke wall bleeding to death. Remembering that you had previously turned off your intercom, you turn it back on. You hear your name being called countless of times, asking for your whereabouts or your status. But with your head being so fuzzy, you don’t know if you talk even if you tried.

“She’s fine guys, I was with her last.” You hear ghosts voice through the little radio. Both of your definitions of fine were different, his was if you got shot you’ll be fine, just a little wound. But yours, well you weren’t really sure. It was more than a gunshot wound, that was for sure.

“What is your status? We’re going to be heading back on the plane shortly.” Prices asks, you can tell he was getting a little impatient.

You cough, more blood running down your dry lips. “Don’t think I’ll make it this flight. Can I catch it later?”

“What are you talking about?” It was now soap talking. “Where are you? We’ll come to find you.”

The line goes silent before you hears ghosts voice once more, this time in more of a panic.

“There’s blood everywhere. Hopefully it’s from these men you’ve slaughter (name).”

“Yeah, you could say that. Say, Simon you wanna make me a promise?”

“A promise?” He seems confused, you noted.

“Don’t blame yourself okay?”

He stays silent, almost hesitant for his next choice of words. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you. “What’s your surroundings?”

“You’re not going to make it in time Simon. It’ll be too late by then.”

“What is she talking about Ghost?” Price asks. To be honest, you totally forgot all about the other four.

But Simon doesn’t respond. His hearts racing, there was too much blood, too many footsteps to even count. And your empty gun.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ghost hisses, “I’ve could’ve help you!”

You flinch at how loud he was. Who knew that a little radio could pick up the sound of anger in a persons voice. “Could you not bitch at me, I don’t need it right now.”

“When I find you it’s going to be more than being bitched at, (code name).”

Ouch, he must be pissed off if he was bringing out your code name. A sigh leaves your lips as you bring you hand to your face, wiping off the blood the kept dripping from your lip. He wasn’t going to find you in time, it wasn’t like you cared. It was going to save you from the future embarrassment of him seeing you in such a weak state and right after you confessed to him.

“Again, that is if you make it in time.”

Simon growls, “can you stop fucking saying that like you’re going to die?”

“You never know, I’ve been out here for awhile now. Never know if some animal is going to eat me for dinner.”

“Well aren’t you in luck, don’t think you’d be a subtle appetite to them.”

“Fucking hell,” you mumble. Your eyes were drooping from all of the blood that you loss. You were dying and you could really feel it now. “I’m by an old building. Not far from where you’re at, just keep going straight until you find a broken down wall with graffiti covering it.”

Simons end of the line was silent, but you assumed so. He was going to try to search for you all by himself because that’s what he does. If it didn’t hurt to chuckle, you would have. Cause it certainly didn’t take him too long to find you. You see the all to well know mask running towards you.

“Hey Simon,” you barely speak into the speaker, “I meant every word I’ve said.” Your hand falls to your side and your eyes roll back. You’ve done your best trying to keep your body going, but every has their weaknesses. Just as your eyes droop shut, Simon screams out your name.

There weren’t any moments where Simon feared life anymore. He lived through all terrifying moments of his life but nothing compared seeing your weak unconscious body. Simon could only run faster, hoping that he could beat death itself.

The man couldn’t afford to loose you, especially when he has something to confess too. God, his self hatred only grew when he turned you down harshly. Truth was, he was just scared. Scared that this was all of some sick joke one of the boys dared you to do. Scared that if he confessed right back, you’d laugh straight in his face and tell him you’d never feel the same way. But now that it hits him, you would never do that. You were too kind, and would never hurt him even if that meant hurting yourself.

“C’mon.” He whispers, his hands are on your shoulders. But when Simon pulls back to examine your body he wanted to puke. There was so much blood, he wondered how you could’ve even possibly walked a far or a distance and stayed on the line while waiting for him.

“Get the plane here now!” Simon yells into the radio, “I found (code name) but she’s unconscious!”

“Rodger that.” A voice responds, Simon doesn’t know who’s it is was but he frankly doesn’t care. He wanted you to wake up so he can tell you that he loves you. So he could tell you that he didn’t hate you, he was just lying.

After what felt like hours of requesting for the plane it finally came. Simon carefully lifted you up into his arms and boarded the plane. He ignored the worried looks of his teammates and gently laid you down on the cot so the medic’s could immediately get to work. Soap placed a hand on the man's shoulder and attempted to pull him away from the scene.

“Ghost,” Soap called out, his grip was getting a little tighter. “Come on, let them have their space.”

But Simon didn’t respond, he was stiffer than a board. He feared that if he were to leave you behind once again, you wouldn’t make it.

“You’ll get to see her once they save her, okay?”

“What if they don’t?”

Soap stays silent, watching over the girl too. His hand still on Simon’s shoulder. “Give her hope, it takes more than a few gunshot wounds to take her down. Just give’er a few days and she’ll be back up and bouncing.”

“I hope you’re right.”

#angst #hurt/comfort #cod mwii #mwii #mondern warefar 2 #mw2 imagine #mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod ghost x reader #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #task force 141 #ghost x reader #fluff

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outlawedmando · 1 year

Text

SOMEWHERE SAFE

pairing: sihtric kjartansson × poc!reader

warnings: violence ; sihtric not married here

summary: scared of losing someone dear to you.

a/n: this is so inaccurate but i desperately wanted to write for my one love <3 kicking myself for not watching the last kingdom sooner (that's on me). this has not been edited/beta read.

also! would really appreciate reblogs + comments!!

word count: 1,3k+

SOMEWHERE IN DANELAND

The aftermath of any battle came with its own consolation prizes. Both sides of the war lost many on their sides. There were dead bodies scattered everywhere, decorating the barren field to completion. You do not remember being dragged violently on the ground, only that you could not see properly as blood had gotten everywhere—into your eyes and all.

Now as you sit on the bloodied earth surrounded by Danes jeering about how they caught one of Uthred's most trusted men. But, you knew how the men looked at you. You rather the Saxon's and their god smite you then be laid out on a platter for these savages. You did not know when your back up would come, if they would notice that you were gone. You could be dead for all you knew.

Your hands shuffled across your body, patting down all over. Your fingers had found the small dagger strapped alongside your pants on the right-side. You would die with honour if worst comes to worse.

A Dane you haven't seen before strutted in his glory towards you. You glared as he laughed drinking his ale. Most of it spilled all over the ground. He swiped his long dagger from his hip and brought it directly in front of you.

“What a prize you are,” He dragged the tip of the steel from your cheek down to your chest. “I wonder what Uthred would say now that we have one of his own.”

You spat at him, “I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you and I will watch you as you choke on it.”

His smile turned into a frown. He chucked his empty cup away as he dug his dagger into your throat drawing a sliver of blood. You winced but you sneered even more as you struggled in your binding—the rope cutting into your wrists.

“You shut your mouth bitch or I will make you.”

You swore under your breath. You eyed this man before you spat at his shoes. “Fuck you.”

“You little…” He grabbed the back of your neck. You knew there was going to be a large bruise left after. That was the least of your worries. You had endured worse. Women always bore the brunt of men’s actions. That was written in history.

The Dane brought the hilt of his dagger and smashed it against your cheekbone and switched the weapon so the blade got dragged down your neck. He was making incisions amongst your skin, the flesh open and gaping; letting blood run its course.

You steeled your face. You must show no fear. He kept on beating you, wearing your body down. Until, there was a commotion at their camp. One of the men came and addressed his leader that they found dead bodies scattered at a river.

“The sickness, it has travelled from afar. From those Christian bastards. We must prepare.” The leader addressed his men, he stared directly at you, “If you see anyone that is not a Dane, kill them.” He smirked.

You cowered in hurt as you coughed up blood. It splattered against the earth. Your body collapsed against the ground, eyes dizzy. You didn’t remember anything, only blackness.

—

Screams were heard, the ringing in your ears faded with time. The screams continued. Metal clanged against another, the sharp thrum of violence. You could hear a name being shouted, multiple times of different voices.

Everything rushed to your head, a sharp tinge rung through. White light blinded your eyes as they fluttered open, trying to refocus your gaze.

The chant of your name repeated until you saw someone crouch by your side, pushing your shoulders back and letting your body lay on the dirt. You settled your gaze upon the shadow overcast your body, you gasped.

Sihtric cupped your cheek gently, “I’m here,” his fingers caressed the cuts. “I am here,” he whispered. You groaned in pain. Whimpered at the soft touch.

He coaxed you from the ground, hand cradling the small of your back as he helped you up from the ground. Sounds of throats being slit reverberated in the decrepit environment; Uthred, Finan, Osferth and Aethelstan took care of the rest of the men.

Sihtric called Osferth over to tend to your wounds. His look of worry worsened as Osferth approached in concern. He swore openly in undiluted anger. He stabbed one of his weapons; his dagger into the ground. Uthred grimaced. Osferth tended to your injuries, mixing a salve to apply to the deep cuts. He tore fabric and wrapped it tightly around your arms.

Osferth gazed directly into your eyes, “You know he’s not angry at you. He’s angry at himself, right…?”

Silence filled the space. You replied, “I know.” Your hands scrunched into the dirt, burying your anger and sadness into the specks of soil. “I know.”

Osferth got up and smiled gently towards you. “Thanks baby monk.”

His ears tinted a pinkish red.

Finan called him over after he saw that he was done tending to you. Uthred came over. It seemed like a domino effect; each man lined up waiting to speak with you on Sihtric’s behalf. When all you wanted was that oaf of a man.

You glared at Uthred, “Do not speak of it.”

“I do not know what you mean.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He lifted you up and brought you over to one of the horses and helped you up.

“Let’s get back home to Rumcoffa. We will ride as much as we can before we settle for camp.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re riding with Sihtric.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the way you placed me upon his horse.”

He laughed. Sihtric approached the horses side and pushed himself up and behind you. He snaked his hands around your waist to grab the reins. His left hand settled against your stomach and gently pushed you back into him. You felt the warmth of his palm. You relished in it.

A throat cleared and you snapped out of your thoughts. Finan smiled like a lunatic. You glared. The horses neighed and set off riding. Only the sounds of hooves hitting the wet ground as the group rode into the horizon safe from danger.

—

Night came upon the land quickly and Uthred decided to set up camp in favour of you being deeply unwell to continue riding in your state. Their were no complaints from the rest of the men. You needed rest.

The fire crackled, the rabbits spit roasted and charred from the fire, chewing of the cooked meat traversed the environment. No one spoke until Finan couldn’t handle the silence and started talking about one of the women in the taverns. An old tale, a tale heard many times before.

You smiled deliriously and yawned.

“Here use this,” sweet Aethelstan gave you a fur to cover yourself. It was a cold night.

“Thank you,” you said.

Sihtric stayed quiet. He stayed quiet until everyone finally dozed off into sleep.

He stayed right by your side; close by.

You awoke soon after. You could feel someone staring into your back or it could of been a nightmare. You’re not sure which. Sihtric gaze settled on you, his fingers clenched.

“Why do you hate me so?”

“I don't hate you. I hate them for turning you into this.”

“Into what?”

“Someone I deeply care for get hurt.”

“You know bloodshed will never end. Especially because of who our loyalties lie with.” You turned over to face him. You stretched your hand across and placed it onto his thigh.

“I still do not like it.”

“Well, you have to deal with it.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t pain me to see you hurt this way.”

“Neither do I when I see you hurt.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Your hand grabbed his. “Then lay with me and rest.”

His fingers tightened around yours in agreement.

#the last kingdom #sihtric x reader #tlk sihtric #sihtric one shot #sihtric kjartansson x reader #tlk x reader #tlk imagine #the last kingdom x reader #sihtric #uthred x reader #finan x reader #osferth x reader #tlk #tlk fandom #tlk reader #poc!reader #sihtric x poc!reader

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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years

Text

I Got You, Little Wolf (Reader x Tywin)

Look man I did my best for this so please cut me some slack, I really do hope you guys like it cause I went through a writers block while trying to do it.

“You are a stark, that’s all that matters to me”

“Father said you were also a soldier, the only woman he is afraid of when she is around sharp objects”

“Good, your father needs to be afraid of something”

“You always speak of the north yet you never say why you came here”

“I was a prisoner sweet boy, I was brought in front of you father by a guard who dragged me in the castle”

“What?”

“Allow me to explain my little wolf”

“Let me go you bastard”

The hound ignored the girls empty threats as he held on to her upper arm with an iron grip before he left her to crumble at the floor in front of the king and queen mother. (Y/n) lifted herself up to get on her feet, her hands were tied with a rope already bruising her wrists, still (y/n)s eyes burned with anger as she viewed the young boy that sat on the throne in an arrogant manner.

“There she is, the young wolf, (y/n) stark the twin of robb”

“Did you drag me here to show you know my family history line or are you just surprised you can remember stuff?”

“How dare you speak to your king like that”

“The north knows no king expect the king of the north, my family that you slaughtered”

She spat back, she herself was even surprised they brought her here before they execute her like they did her father, she had made peace with dying when she saw her twin brother lay dead at his own wedding, however she would not go down without giving them a piece of her mind.

“Your treacherous family betrayed my father and you were stupid enough to think you could go against us”

“Were you dropped on your head as a child? Cause certainly there is no way you actually believe that you are so invisible because your fat ass sits on a big chair, useless little boy”

“You will pay for this you bitch”

Joffrey marched at the girl to strike her in his mind he wanted to teach her a lesson for her insults, he had not gotten far when he got interrupted by the doors agape revealing his grandfather, the hand of the king.

Tywin took a few steps and investigated the scene, it seemed like the stark had already caused a stir, her dress was tarnished and she was in much need of a proper bath, mud or smoke staining her skin, what he also noticed was that the stark showed no signs of fear, she held eye contact with the old lion with her back straight in perfect line.

The moment that Tywin came close her face scowled with hatred, Tywin could not remember the last time someone showed their true feelings towards him, it was almost refreshing to see.

“The young wolf in chains, what a glorious sight”

“I am glad you find this entertaining old man”

“Careful now, that is not a way to speak to your future lord husband”

“What?”

Joffrey and (y/n) said in unison. Tywin remained stoic as usual, foolishly and arrogantly Tywin moved his hand up to touch her chin only for him to quickly retreat it to protect his finger from (y/n)s teeth, the wretched Stark tried to bite him. The room roared with Tywins laughter, Joffrey shared a look of worry with his mother, neither Cersei or Joffrey had seen him laugh like this.

“You don’t only bark but you also bite, such a clever girl, you will make a wonderful lady of the rock”

“I would rather pull out my own womb and eat it than marry a Lannister”

“I am afraid you have no choice, marry or die along with your sisters, you may not care about your life but do you really want your sisters to come with you?”

Like most tales start, the princess was locked in a tower, sadly the Prince Charming was nowhere near and the monster -in this case the lion- would be taking his place. The fury in her burned her chest, she had tried everything, restrain from eating, threatening to jump off the tower, attack the guards, Tywin was always one step ahead.

Although the lord hand was smart, he was not a woman, to be a woman meant you had the natural skill of landing jabs under the belt, jabs that a man would never consider still they were the ones that hurt the most.

(Y/n) was seen smiling bright at their wedding ceremony, guzzling wine and dancing with every lord that had thrown themselves to dance with the young she-wolf, the dress was an excellent choice and in combination with her hair she looked like the embodiment of a fairytale.

Tywin could not believe his eyes, the girl had offered her time and smiled to every lord except her, he was ready to drag her out of here in front of everyone when the insufferable littlefinger lifted her up in the air by the waist, the bride wooed at the gesture, she was even seen blushing.

Luckily for Tywin, Cersei had stepped up to the Stark girl, interrupting her dance to talk to her new stepmother, a word Cersei would rather cut her tongue herself than say.

“Lady (y/n), welcome to our family, as a stark I would like to know what it is like to be married to a lion?”

“Unnecessary and oddly boring, wolves prefer to stick with their own”

She replied without even sparing a peep at Cersei which infuriated the queen mother, how dare she face the queen mother with such dismissive demeanour

It was bad enough that her father allowed the bitch to live now she took her late mothers place, her new step mother could be her daughter, Cersei always admired her father still she could not wrap her head around the motive behind it.

“I believe it is time for us to go”

“You may go, I wish to stay”

Tywin had allowed her temper to somewhat unleash when it came to Joffrey or Cersei, anyone but him, now his lady wife was dangerously stretching the rope, to play with a lion was as safe as jumping over a fire, he had already extended his kindness by just seeking her out to the dance floor after countless hours and numerous lords being able to touch her, he would not turn a blind eye when she disrespected him further.

(Y/n) yelped when Tywin latched his hand around her bicep as discreetly as possible to force her into walking out by herself, give her the option of keeping her dignity instead of acting the way he truly wanted, she stumbled at first firstly because she was distracted and the other reason was that she had gotten drunk by downing all the goblets of wine she could find since she started getting dressed.

The moment (Y/n) was safely tucked away from the prude eyes of Westeros she protested only to be met by Tywin throwing her over his shoulder, she whined at the impact of her stomach landing on the man’s shoulder with enough force to cause some bruises, quickly the pain was replaced with embarrassment, her face turned as red as roses when she saw servants scurry away while giggling.

“Put me down you old bastard”

She was only met with a smack across her bottom to silence her, instead it caused her irritation to grow, her solution was to start banging the mans back as hard as she possibly could.

Tywin basically threw her across his bed, what he did not expect was for (y/n) to be so quick on her feet and slap him across the face, she was strong enough to make his head turn from the impact, not strong enough to cause more than a decent sting.

(Y/n) rose up to attack Tywin once more, unfortunately for her Tywin was a skilled warrior, he caught her arms and forced her to lay on the bed by putting half of his weight on her.

“I should cut your tongue for that”

(Y/n)s response was to spit on the man’ face, for a split second he considered throwing her to the lions, he resorted with grabbing her by the waist with his one arm and a fistful of hair with the other with her back to his chest.

“Why the hostility little wolf? I offer you a slice of heaven and you throw it back in my face”

“What part of this resembles heaven to you?”

“Our children will rule winterfell, you are the heir of the north, if you kill me war will ensue but if you lean on me and I swear together we’ll prevail”

Winterfell, home. The words made circles in her head as her legs gave up, Tywin slowly let her touch the ground as his hand was still around and the once forceful grip on her hair had gone to a gentle caress of her locks, he had heard of the young wolfs beauty along with her bravery, at the time he had dismissed it, once he heard her bark at Joffrey an act that no one seemed to have the balls to do.

He was mesmerised, such a pretty little thing, the courage she held within her could burn all the seven kingdoms, anyone that had her by her side would be considered lucky, it was at that time that he thought of a wedding with her.

“I got you little wolf”

Call it stupidity or an urge to find home within strangers or just an act of drunkness. (Y/n) peered at the man that held her with such softness, the anger disappeared and tiredness of fighting, of surviving took its place in her heart, she needed to rest, to feel protected.

It had been the first time in years that Tywin was caught off guard by somebody, when (y/n) landed her lips on him he felt like he was thrown into a cold river from the shock, he quickly recovered to respond to her hesitant kiss while he laid her on the ground, Tywin was not known for his patience so it was only natural from him to take out his dagger and rip the gown right in the middle, leaving (y/n)s body exposed.

Tywin caressed her breasts with his fingertips, astonished at how perfect she was, any man would dream of laying with a woman like her, viewing her biting her lip when her hand found his shirt to pull him to her almost felt like he was just dreaming.

They laid on the floor all night, the stark was truly was a starving wolf in all her glory, her thirst and stamina were endless, he had thought she would want to take things at a slow pace, he had been corrected, her temper slowly creeped in as she became rough by the minute.

Tywin relished her when she took the upper hand, she was a delight to watch, listening to her cries of desires aroused him even more, she devoured the man until he had to physically force her to stop, he was certain anyone within the castle would listen to the girls groans and moans of pleasure.

“Oh there she is the beautiful lady of the rock”

A young girl approached (y/n) when she sat at the table for breakfast near the garden, to step foot outside your doorstep in the north meant you would have to wear layers of fur, here she could at least enjoy the rays of sunshine with only a light dress.

“It is an honour to meet you lady (y/n), I am margaery tyrell”

“I have heard of you lady margaery, the lady of the roses, it is nice to see another woman close to my age here in the castle”

(Y/n) had waited for the moment she could throw her young age in Cerseis face, her new step daughter was a few steps behind Margaery, the Lannister responded with a tight lipped smile with internal curses directed to (y/n), she was the wife of her father and as powerful as she thought of herself the stark was under the only person Cersei feared, her father.

“Would you mind if I joined you for breakfast?”

“I could use the company, please have a seat, both of you”

The Tyrell girl moved her chair so she can find a seat right next to the new Lannister lady, Margaery expected her to be cheerful especially after the whispers of the couples antics were the servants found the bed covers on the floor, ripped clothing and a dagger laying near by, along with some splashes of blood on the carpet instead of the mattress.

(Y/n) wanted to smash her head against the wall, the wine sounded like a good choice at the time, now her mind was pulsating from sleeping just for a couple of hours, Cersei took the time that (y/n) rubbed her temples with her fingers to examine her.

(Y/n) looked exhausted, she had shrunk in her seat and had even brought her legs up to her chest to shrivel up some more, Cersei never thought she would see the day were another woman made her uncomfortable, the adventurous of her fathers consummated marriage had reached her ears the minute she had gotten out of her bed, she had to hold herself from throwing up at the thought of her father bedding another woman, let alone a Stark.

“Such delicious treats you have here my lady, oh I am parched”

“Not this one”

(Y/n) was suffering from overindulging, thankfully she had managed to master enough strength to act instantly when Margaery went for the small pot of tea (y/n) had specifically requested. Margaery gave a look of confusion to the lady Lannister as Cersei leaned in, what was it that made (y/n) so territorial.

“I’m sorry lady Margaery it is a tea one of house from the north brought for me as a gift, unfortunately the amount was not as grand as it should be, I am savouring it”

“That is alright lady (y/n) it is perfectly normal to be homesick, especially after arriving under such cruel circumstances, I never got the chance to say my condolences”

“Why you honour me my lady, do not beat yourself up over the matter, you are the first and most likely the only one to do so”

Margaerys lips stiffened at the words (y/n) had spoken, instinctively the ginger haired beauty reached to hold the Starks hand, a small sign of alliance and mutual respect, (y/n) was a honourable woman and a defiant character, Margaery had an eye for beauty and a nose for talent, if it was anyone she needed by her side it would be (y/n).

“It is too beautiful of a day to dwell over past events”

“My apologies queen mother, I did not realise my grief over my entire family line would ruin your moment of soaking up the sun”

“(Y/n)!”

You would have to be blind and deaf to not understand that the angry man that was turning over the corner was like a simmer pot overflowing with anger. He had the attention of the three ladies ever since he made his presence known, as he came to the table his first move was to reach over for (y/n)s teapot, (y/n) was the only one that did not move a muscle when the man smashed the pot on the ground, making the liquid spill and stain Cerseis gown.

“Moontea!? You stupid girl, you thought you could ask the servants to smuggle such a herb without me knowing?”

“Leave us”

(Y/n) dismissed the girls and servants, Cersei and Margaery gave them some privacy, leaving the couple right when Tywin walked on her side of the table, with a clean swipe of his arm most of the plates had smashed on the ground and replaced by (y/n), she did not have time to protest when Tywin spread her legs to stand between them, forcefully he gripped her by the chin, their eyes burning holes into one another

“I did what was best for me”

“Is that so? Was that the best choice for your sisters? How long has it been since you saw them last? I suppose the executioner stand could be a nice place for a reunion”

“I will not bring an heir until I am certain you meant what you said last night”

“About winterfell?”

(Y/n) nodded instead of speaking. Tywin sighed while he shook his head in disbelief, Tywin was lord of things but he wasn’t a liar, if she gave him an heir and binds his blood with hers he would stop at nothing for his family, she deserved the seven kingdoms not just winterfell, he did not spare her life just to have her on his bed he could have bought a whore for that, no she was the only person Tywin saw (y/n) as a genuine equal to his intellect.

“My dear wife, you are by far the most annoying person I’ve crossed paths with and ever since you stepped foot in this castle you have been nothing but a pain as you strut with your insufferable attitude and sharp tongue no matter who you talk to you tick them off in a mere seconds… that is what I love about you”

“Everyone has a villain they look up to I suppose”

“I broke my rules for you little wolf, I saw something in those eyes of yours, not only do you have the guts to play this game you might also have what it takes to win it”

“So you resort to filling me up with your seed so we will be tied through our children”

Tywin held his though for a moment, he released her from his grasp as his hand ever so softly caressed the skin of her neck down to gracing over her chest, finally he snaked his arm around her waist that earned him a slight squeal that escaped from the young wolf.

(Y/n) kept her gaze into his eyes, he was a man that was not particularly charming, he was intriguing, something about him slowly lured you in, he was a man so distinguished and with such confidence in himself that you could never forget him nor what he made you feel while being around you.

Tywin thought she was made for him, such elegance with just the right amount of danger, her gaze was full of self reliance to the point that with just one glance she could make you second guess yourself, his new wife was a riddle that made his head spin, she could burn you with her passion while she offered you an unforgettable night or kill you in your sleep, a risk only a man like Tywin was willing to take.

“I will feel you up with my seed for two reasons, in hopes that we won’t only have a son but a daughter that has your thick head so you can understand what it is like when someone is trying to knock some sense into it and second because last night was a glimpse of your many hidden talents I yearn to discover”

Requests are open!

#tywin x reader #tywin lannister #yandere tywin lannister imagine #tywin lannister imagine #tywin lannister fluff #tywin lannister x reader #tywin imagine #tywin lannister x you #ao3feed tywin #lannister #got imagine #game of thrones fluff #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

Text

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Danger lurks in every corner of Small Heath now, a place in which you're forced to stay. A place where Changretta and Section D are ready to get you. As you're trying to work things out with Arthur following your violent argument, Polly tells you something that will definitely complicate your role in the Vendetta.

Words: 6.8k

TW: Angst, mention of drug use, canonical violence, mention of murder, mention of self-harm, co-dependent relationship, grieving.

Notes:

✞ This is chapter 13 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense and better.

✞ Quite a long chapter I admit, certainly the longer. The future chapters won't be as long I swear -- it's just that there was a lot of small "plot twists".

✞ Lucy is @emotionalcadaver's OC.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT

The thick fog of the night danced in front of the car’s headlights, swirling at the wind’s discretion. The driver, keeping an eagle eye on your dainty silhouette, had started the engine as soon as he saw you storming out of your house, disheveled and crying. He only waited five seconds before driving at a very slow pace, scanning the misty streets of foul-smelling Small Heath to find you. For a short while, he was convinced you had managed to escape from his watch and, admittedly, the persistent fog only complicated the task further. “Fucking bitch”, he pestered, turning left on the next street as the car’s wheels squealed against the wet concrete of the road but you didn’t hear, far too deafened by the unremitting drumming of your own heart. You stopped your race near a field, and sat on a small wall, feeling your body wear out now that the adrenaline's effects were dispersing. Once settled, you buried your face in your cold palms and squeezed your eyes shut. Where should you go? What should you do? Were all of Arthur's promises empty? What will happen to your marriage now? Will Tommy keep ruining your life? All these questions played on repeat in your skull, like the unsettling loop of a broken record echoing in a murky abandoned house. And along the haunting tune resonated your and Arthur's voice, from a not-so-far memory.

"I'll marry you one day."

"You're already married, Arthur."

"I don't bloody care, it's you I want ay. Fook Linda, fook the family, fook the rest of the world. It's you. It has always been you."

A shiver ran down your spine as your mind went back to the night you had this conversation. You could almost feel the warm sensation of his naked skin against yours, as he cradled you to his chest, legs entangled, and his cologne all over your bedsheet. The first time you made love.

"Listen, I know you're scared and I know I’ve got a bad reputation. But if you give me the chance to be your man, I swear to God you'll be the only one for me. Look at ya. How could I want another woman? They can all die. I'll never, fucking never, cheat on you."

"But with Linda--"

"It ain't the same. We're talking about you. My sweet angel. My soul mate. My saving grace. The other part of me broken self."

"... Alright. Promise it then."

"Cross me heart and hope to die."

"No drugs either? Like, a bit of snow occasionally never killed anyone but apart from this, no relapse okay?"

"No drugs but..." He paused, gently taking your hand in his, and kissed all your fingers one by one "But in exchange I want ye to stop hurting yourself. I saw the inside of your thighs so please, no more cuts ay?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." You smiled, interlocking your little fingers together in a sweet pinky promise.

You pressed one trembling hand against your mouth at the bittersweet memory, tears tingling your eyes and blurring your vision. A muffled sob escaped from your plumped lips, then a second, and finally tears came in waterfalls. It's been a long time since you really cried, and here you were. Weeping like a lost kid.

Despite the darkness of the night and the patchy coat of the fog, the stalker caught sight of the long crimson streaks that ran down one of your frail arms. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue as his hand reached for the gun hidden in the glove box. Finally, he thought, he was a short moment away from a very sweet vengeance he had spent years carefully planning. A little excited sigh escaped from his mouth while his fingers caressed the cold barrel of the gun, already aroused at the idea of pointing the canon against your head the moment he would force you to get in his car. Even if he knew that the wisest thing to do after your capture was to drive you to them, he thought about going on a little stroll with you. Maybe he'll bring you to an isolated land to shove you on the muddy ground, and make you regret the day you decided to murder his brother in the small mountainous town of Haute-Falaise. Only after he had ruined you enough, stealing every ounce of your dignity, he would drive you to Section D's headquarters. With a bit of luck, he could keep hurting you a little bit more before they decide to pull the trigger and repaint the walls with the contents of your brain.

The roots of his hatred had started the day he realized that each time he closed his lids, his brother's eyes haunted him. Or at least, the two hollow and dark holes on his face since his eyes had been gouged out. There was also the blood, running from his mouth, ears, nose, and even streaming down his cheeks in crimson tears. Maybe he should have listened to the local police when they told him not to look at the corpse, but he had to do it. To his questions, even the forensic pathologist couldn’t answer. The only certainty the experts agreed on was that Christian’s lungs and heart had been smashed to a pulp from the inside and that he had stab wounds all over his body just like the other four corpses found. Five corpses and nothing else. The murderer was nowhere to be seen: no one had witnessed something, not even heard the slightest muffled scream. It was as if Death came, struck them with his scythe, and left without a trace.

Closer. A little bit closer...

You jumped at the sudden and unexpected sensation of a man’s hand squeezing your frail shoulder. As nimble as a cat and as quick as a lightning bolt, you jumped from the wall and unsheathed the dagger you kept hidden in your right lace garter, “Who the fuck are you?!” You hissed, voice burning with fury and frozen eyes darting at the stranger. You had been so quick to react that the man, vaguely confused by what just happened, found himself in quite a poor situation. Indeed, he didn’t expect a young woman to press the tip of a sharp blade against his carotid artery, ready to slit it. God knew he was a fearless fighter, but you had been too unpredictable, even for him. And yet, he didn’t move nor particularly react despite the unpleasant surprise.

“Heaven Shelby?” He asked.

You snarled and bared your teeth at this unfamiliar voice calling you by your name. If marrying Arthur Shelby had taught you what real love was, you had also learned how to become even more deadly than you already were. Seemed like the Shelby's wariness had turned you feral.

“Make one more step and I’ll bleed you like a fucking pig.” You warned. The cold wind of the night blew in your hair, making your long white locks dance behind you like the ghostly veil of a dead bride. He frowned, unsettled by its uncommon color. What disturbed him the most though was maybe the pale and haunting color of your eyes, whose shade reminded him of two cursed aquamarine stones.

“Mrs. Shelby. I mean no harm, ‘specially not when facing such a young and delicate lady,” He started, the corner of his lips stretching in a fathomless smile despite the awe you inspired him. His small and cunning fox-like eyes squinted as he grinned. Somehow, he didn't seem to mind the blade that was still threatening him as if such a situation was casual -- and it was. If anything, he was impressed by your fierceness and the hatred that shone in your iris, which created a striking contrast with your little frame and doll face, “Well not as delicate as I’ve been told.” His smile widened at his own comment, “It’s dangerous out’here m’lady, I’ve spotted you by chance and thought I’d bring you home safe.”

“Dangerous.” You snorted, unable to hold your sarcasm. “Get the fuck away from me.” Each word from your mouth was dripping with caustic vitriol, leaving no doubt about your hostility and lethal potential. Judging by your quick and deadly reaction, you were certainly more than capable of taking care of yourself -- in truth, he could tell you wouldn't hesitate to end his life. But instead of backing up, the man carefully brought his fingertips on the shining surface of the dagger and pried it away from his throat in a slow movement without breaking eye contact with you.

“A car is following you.” He informed you.

“What?” This phrase hit you like a train, impairing the fierceness and self-confidence you’ve been showing. Surveying your surroundings quickly, you did notice the shadow of a car not so far away in the distance with its headlights shut and two glistening eyes staring at you from the driver's seat. The moment the shadow understood that you had spotted him, the car headed away from you in a loud engine roar and disappeared in the misty night. Fuck, the lad was right: someone had been following you. You sniffed, still in shock, and quickly wiped your tears with the brush of one knuckle before tricking your anxiety into focusing on your unexpected savior again. Your armed hand might be hanging loosely from your slim body, but your fingers were still firmly wrapped around the dagger’s handle. It was an expensive and deadly blade, gifted by one mysterious red-head woman whose hair reminded you of a wildfire. You had trouble remembering the name — Lucy? Something like this. What you knew though was that this troubled soul was called ‘Tommy’s little spy” by the Shelby's family, but since you couldn’t care less about your brother-in-law’s personal life you didn’t investigate further. The girl had been nice with you, that was all that mattered.

Even armed and feral, you felt vulnerable. At your big confused eyes and at the sight of mascara running down your cheeks, the man couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you could pass off for his daughter or maybe because you were just a few years older than his own son? He slightly tilted his body to one side to let the weak beam of a street light disclose his face and overall appearance: long and messy gray hair, thin lips, small glistening eyes, and a mysterious and slightly disturbing grin.

“Mrs. Shelby, you should come with me.” He advised, then he extended his arm, about to lay his strong hand on your shoulder a second time when you stepped back to avoid his touch with a dissuasive hiss. He stopped, “Lemme bring you back to your husband. It’s Arthur Shelby, ‘m I right?” This time, he simply offered you his palm and waited for you to make the first step. You replied to his invitation by looking dagger at him: if your eyes could kill, this one would already be sleeping with the fishes.

“No.” You protested, as stubborn as a Shelby by birth. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the mention of Arthur, the thought of him coming back home all coked up and intoxicated was still fueling your rage like gasoline thrown at a destructive fire. The last thing you wanted at the moment was to see your husband. If someone had asked you, you’d have answer that what you sincerely wanted was John and his comforting arms. John and his beaming smile. John and his way of teasing you, his jokes, his softness, his cockiness... Yes, that was John you wanted, and you wanted him now. But the cruel truth was that John wasn’t there anymore. He was lying dead and cold in a morgue, leaving you with nothing but the insufferable pain of his loss and your head screaming. “I don’t want to see him.” You asserted and fled the man’s gaze, who soon understood the situation — with age came experience, and from experience he could recognize the aching expression of a young woman wounded by the hazards of love. These Shelby men… He thought with a certain disdain. Oh, he had not been irreproachable all his life either, but a woman’s heart was a gift he missed every day of his life since his wife’s death. The mysterious lad softly reached for your wrist and, not minding your feral nature anymore, he brought it closer to his face to examine the open gash on your porcelain skin.

“Did he hurt you?”

“I did this to myself.” You broke the physical contact right away and pressed your palm firmly on the still-bleeding wound. Adrenaline had pumped so hard through your veins that the pain had been numbed: only now your nerves were slowly wakening up, sending unpleasant tingles where the cut was. While he observed you carefully, the man wondered why such a young and fragile thing like you would do this to herself.

“Seems like you had a harsh night, kitten.” He stated with a slight fatherly tone which surprised you before he noticed the goosebumps on your skin. The situation had been so exceptional that he completely obliterated that you were barefoot outside, in the freezing temperature of Birmingham’s night, wearing nothing but a short dress. Without further ado, the man took his long black coat off and put it over your shoulders. While you still shot him a suspicious look, the warmth in which he wrapped you felt good. Your muscles relaxed and your hand closed on the two sides you brought together near your throat to protect it from the wind. “While I get why y’don’t wanna go home, ‘specially if you fought with your man, you have to understand that being alone at night in Small Heath is not safe. Let alone currently, with Changretta’s men trying to murder you all. Maybe you’d like me to bring you to Thomas instead?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the simple mention of your brother-in-law’s name. The sensation of his lips against yours was still burning your flesh and even hours after your last encounter you couldn’t get rid of his cologne’s scent that was still lingering on your hair and skin, “I’d rather get fucked by a horse than deal with this bastard.” The man blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected you to have such a foul mouth -- that was why let out a soft chuckle, to which you replied with a very faint smile.

“Alright kitten… I get it. No Shelby men. And what about coming with me to my vardo? My son has lit a campfire and he is cooking some rabbits. Would you like that?” He suggested, one brow raised and his fox-like grin widening almost to his ears.

“You still haven't told me who you are.”

The man took off his brown hat at your clever comment, “Ah yes. Where are my manners ay?” His dark blue eyes glistened with a cunning gleam as he slowly nodded “The name’s Aberama Gold. Nice to meet you.”

“You bloody idiot… Sit here and don’t do anything stupid anymore.” Polly instructed her oldest nephew as soon as he had entered the room, pointing to an empty chair with her half-consumed cigarette. All alone with Ada and his aunt, who were still waiting for the other guests to come, Arthur took place and kept his head down. Polly simply took a long drag from her black cigarette and exhaled, smoke coming out of her mouth like the Devil as she quietly observed Arthur’s eyebags and bloody knuckles. Soon after your departure, she had heard the cacophony of screams and thuds coming from his house in Watery Lane. When she witnessed all the blood, destroyed furniture, and shards of glass in the living room, she had been was convinced that Arthur had murdered you out of jealousy or something. Fortunately enough, the situation wasn't that dramatic -- at least for her. After throwing herself at her nephew and forcing him to calm the fuck down, she did her best to keep the oldest Shelby brother from hurting himself more than he already did. When things got quieter, she had even scolded him as she did when he was a kid — except that all the other sermons he had been through in his childhood were nothing compared to the anger she had unleashed when he had confessed about taking drugs again.

“Is she coming to the meeting?” She finally inquired, one of her elbows resting on the wooden table and her cigarette consuming itself between her fingers.

“Don’t know Pol.” Arthur’s usual loud and gruff voice was reduced to a shy, hoarse, and saddened whisper. No matter his attempt at distracting his mind, his thoughts always came back to you. Only you. He didn’t know where you were nor if you’d come back to him and that was slowly driving him crazy. Or more than he already was. Arthur felt his fragile sanity slipping through his fingers and knew it wouldn't be long before he went berserk if it turned out you really left. Also, he was growing frustrated and agitated about sitting here in the betting shop, waiting for a useless meeting to start instead of looking for you. All he wanted was to burn this city to the ground and make it bleed until he found you and brought you back home where you belonged. That is to say by his side. Nevertheless, Polly had advised him against this decision, convinced it would only fuel your rage against him even more. She wasn’t wrong though, you needed space.

The fierce Aunt stubbed her cigarette out in the nearest ashtray and leaned toward her nephew to grab his wrist with one of her cold and sly hands. It snapped him out of his crumbling mind. “You’re insanely lucky to have a woman like her in your life, Arthur. Don’t be an ungrateful cunt by letting your addictions ruin the most precious thing you have. The bland and momentarily relief snow grants you will never hold a candle to Heaven. Understand?” She warned with the same tone she used when a young Arthur came back home all bloody after fighting at school. “Hey. Look at me.” The gangster sniffed and raised his steel blue eyes to his Aunt, his lips trembling and dimples appearing on his cheeks as he clenched his jaws. How right she was. Even when snorting a ridiculously huge amount of snow he didn’t feel better. In fact, his high had been insipid when compared with how you made him feel, blissed out and in pure ecstasy, when his lips crashed against yours. An unpleasant surge of electricity crossed his body at this thought as he remembered how his whole being yearned for you. “She’ll come back. I know she will, and you’ll make up for your idiocy. But let me warn you, boy. Witches usually don’t believe in second chances. If she gives you one, don’t ever fuck it all up anymore, or she’ll tear your bloody heart from your chest and smash it in front of your beseeching eyes. And you’ll consider yourself lucky if she only did it figuratively. ” At these murderous words, which felt like another stab, Arthur bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood on his tongue.

“I’ll do that.” He concluded, closing his hands in fists in a vain attempt to keep his temper quiet despite his spiraling thoughts. Thoughts that revolve around either you and how he would end his damn life if you ever left him. With a loud bang, a strong rope, or hell, his own razor blade, he didn’t care. Polly simply nodded and sat straight again as the other members of the clan entered the room one by one and took place, waiting for Tommy. At each footstep, Arthur raised his head with impatience, wishing it was you and internally screaming when he realized it wasn’t. HeavenHeavenHeavenHeaven… It never stopped, the thought of you compulsive and maddening. He cleared his throat and grunted nervously, his gaze glaring at an invisible dot on the wall that was facing him.

Tommy erupted in the room, a placid expression etched on his face as always, giving the impression he was in complete control of the situation. Was he? No one was truly sure about that. He stood fearlessly in front of the small crowd, far from being impressed by public speeches, and let his turquoise eyes wander on every face. Sometimes you wondered if Thomas Shelby would better drop the criminal life and start a political career. After all, he had all the required qualities: manipulative, sweet-talking, dishonest, and heartless. Tommy took one look at his brother’s face and quickly got a broad understanding of what had happened -- It wasn't particularly difficult though considering how Arthur belonged to the expressive kind. His eyes usually talked before he even opened his mouth. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault. If it was because of the... kiss, or his moment of confusion as he liked to call it. Yet, his sharp instincts knew that Arthur hadn’t been informed of this little event otherwise he would have certainly gone straight for his throat no matter the family blood running in their veins. Loyalty had its limits, and the limits bore your name. When he noticed your absence, Tommy discreetly clenched his sharp jaws for even if he loathed you, you had your place among the family for the meeting and the rest of them would probably not vote if you weren’t there. Nevermind, he thought. He had barely parted his lips when he heard the clicking sound of heels approaching and with the sound came your perfume. Just like Arthur, he immediately recognized the spring-like fragrances of your scent, especially now that he had buried his nose in your silvery mane.

Arthur’s heart made a leap in his tight ribcage as he saw you bathed in the warm light of the betting shop, dressed like the day you left the house except for your hair that was styled in two French braids cascading down the small of your back. He wanted to get up and embrace you, choke you in a hug, or fall on his knees to beg for forgiveness without minding the other people in the room but Polly’s strong hand squeezed his thigh to prevent him from doing so. Thus, all he did was just staring at you with pitiful and beseeching eyes. But you didn’t look at him. In truth, you didn’t look at anyone. Ignoring the burning sensation of Tommy’s turquoise iris following you, you passed by him and headed right to the free chair between Polly and Arthur. As soon as you sat next to him, he obliterated the world in favor of your heavenly presence as he usually did when you were around. The lanky gangster tried his chance and his fingers shyly searched for yours under the table. He was dying to feel your touch again, the coldness of your frosty skin being the only remedy to his troubled soul and broken mind. However, you denied him your affection by slightly shifting your hand away from him no matter how hard it was for you too. Your rejection stung him more painfully than a white-hot blade. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek harder but instead of making a scene or bursting with both rage and frustration, he tried his best to be a good boy and simply lowered his head as an unruly child who had just been scolded. His lonely hand rested on his thigh he nervously rubbed, desperately trying to chase away his sadness.

“John is dead.” Tommy exhaled loudly and made a short pause as if he was still processing the awful truth. John. Is. Dead. Your frail fingers fidgeted the fabric of your dress at Tommy’s statement, doing so only to avoid digging them into your own flesh and scratching it until you bleed. For a micro while, Tommy's self-confidence flickered, afflicted by his baby brother’s savage murder, before he regained composure and his eyes darkened again, “Esme’s back on the road with the Lees. She’s taken the kids. Michael is badly wounded, they say it’s 60/40 in his favor.”

“There’s no number, there’s no percentages” Polly cut him off, “So the hand, the hand beneath him stops his falling. Spoke to someone… My son will live.” It was more or less all you’ve heard of the conversation, for your mind soon drifted. As Tommy kept talking, your frozen eyes as glacial as Dante’s latest ring of Hell locked on your husband. Observing him with great attention, you tried to look for anything that would prove he was high. But despite a huge deal of effort, you didn’t see any grain of white powder near his nostrils. Arthur’s eyes weren’t dilated, his hands didn’t shake and his breathing was as soft as quiet. If anything, he looked awfully tired and miserable. To be honest, you could not help but think about how bad you missed him and how handsome he was in his suit even if your mood was still sour and resentful.

Arthur grunted, distracting himself from the pain by following the conversation and playing his henchman role. He took a golden bullet out of the pocket of his trousers and, holding it between his thumb and his index finger, looking at its shiny surface on which he had carved Luca’s name: “Yeah, Well… The bullet’s been written… It says Luca.” He paused, a glimpse of John’s face reflecting on the gold for half a second. “When the time comes and it will come… Me as the oldest brother —“ He swallowed again, John had disappeared, “Will put this bullet into his fucking head.” He concluded his speech by putting the said bullet on the table, the metallic sound echoed in the room and chilled you to the bones. Your eyes were still focusing on Arthur, but this time it was because you felt worried for him. Despite his rough and tough demeanor, the slight tremor in his voice and his need to take short pauses had betrayed his profound sorrow. You closed your fists on your dress because of how much you hated to see him in pain. All you wanted was to hold his arm and support him in these difficult times but you were certainly as pretty as stubborn.

“There’s been some bad blood between us.” While he had ignored you for most of his speech, Tommy’s intense gaze fell on you. Feeling the ice of his eyes burning you, you cocked an eyebrow. Was it a pathetic attempt to apologize? Or was he blaming you for it?

Bad blood… Polly scoffed. You snort. That was the least he could say.

It felt like an eternity before little King Shelby spoke again, not paying attention to his Aunt’s and your attitude. He looked at the ceiling, looking for his words then he went on, “Until this business is settled we stay together. We stay here…” To assert his claim, Tommy explained how the family would be safe as long as they stayed together, surrounded by an army of faces they already knew. His plan was simple: all the family remained together until they manage to kill Luca Changretta. Until then, no one was allowed to stray away from Small Heath. Arthur's first reaction following this suggestion was to turn his head towards you, looking with concern for far too well he knew you didn't wish to stay. A small sigh escaped from your plumped lips as you dived into his sad eyes, but you remained silent. Worst, you remained awfully placid and hated yourself for looking so much like Tommy for a short while. The rest bored you to hell and blurred into a mush of unintelligible bribes of conversation, except for the mention of Aberama Gold and Johnny Dogs’ complaints about the man. Savages he had said. The same word he had used the first time you met him. She's a freakin' savage, Arthur. An evil creature straight from the woods! Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue to keep your mouth shut, and not scream at Dogs to tell him that Aberama Gold might be a savage but at least he took care of you these last few days better than any members of the Shelby clan did. At least not before interminable months of insults and death/suspicious stares. As the conversation went on, Polly put a glass of whisky in front of you but you pushed it away almost immediately -- you've been feeling nauseous since you left Watery Lane so drinking strong alcohol was the last thing you had in mind. Thus, you simply passed the glass to Arthur, who certainly needed it more than you.

“… Which means we have to agree to end this war between us.” Thomas Shelby might be addressing the whole family, but you knew his words were mainly aimed at you, which only made you move your foot impatiently under the table. Ending this war, of course, you thought. And what about the last two years of misery you’ve made me undergo each time we met? What about the moment you strangled me? And what about all the awful things you said after thrusting your tongue in my fucking mouth? These would have been all the things you would have screamed at him if your legendary coldness had broken. Which, fortunately for everyone in the room, hadn’t.

Truthful to himself, Tommy asked for the family to vote.

“Peace.” Arthur finally decided, taking the glass and gulping down the amber liquid it contained in hope it would numb him. It didn’t. As surprising as it was to hear the oldest sibling choosing a non-violent approach to a conflict, you knew it was the best decision to make. So as everyone shared their opinion, you thought deeply about yours until your turn came. At first, you didn’t realize it was already your time to speak — only the sudden silence and the weight of a dozen eyes on you could snatch you from your mind. And among the pair of eyes, the one that burnt the fiercest was Tommy’s.

“Now we’re asking for my opinion?” You said, sarcastic venom coating your words.

“Angel, please…” Arthur whispered, but you waved off his comment with a disdainful gesture of the hand. He currently wasn’t in the position to advise you. Not after hurting you like he did.

“Truce.” You stated, coldly. The word left your mouth with the power of a guillotine’s blade on an inmate’s neck and surprised everyone in the room. In truth, they were all convinced you would disagree with the idea. Polly and Ada offered you a warm smile, while Tommy lowkey nodded in approval at your wise decision.

“Five for peace, two for truce. Let’s get on with the war.” He concluded, turning around and walking out of the betting shop without one last glance at any of his family’s members: his scheming mind already focused on the next part of his plan.

As always, Tommy couldn't live without pulling the strings.

As the room cleared out and people left, you remained alone with Arthur in an uncomfortable silence. Because you had nothing to tell him, you got up from your chair and proceeded to walk to the exit without uttering a single word but the tall gangster caught you by the wrist, forcing you to stop. His long fingers closed around you a bit too bluntly than he intended though. You winced and as a result, he immediately let go of you, showing his palm open to indicate that he didn't mean to hurt you.

“Heaven, please." His gravelly voice called. "Enough with the cold treatment… I can’t. It’s hurting me.” He said rather slowly, for putting words on his emotions was not something he was used to. Most of the time he just yelled and resorted to violence. , “I beg ye, go back home, angel.”

"You had promised me, Arthur." You articulated.

"And you had also promised me not to hurt yourself anymore." His gruff voice raised a little bit, threatening to turn into frustrated yellings because he didn’t know how to properly communicate his emotions, especially not when they were so obsessive and overwhelming. But Arthur didn’t want to scream at you so what he did was take a deep inhale to force himself not to be his usual loud and rude self. “You also promised to me, love.” He repeated in a calmer tone even if his quivering upper lip and twitching mustache showed how much he was struggling.

“So now we both understand how it feels when the other part of your soul breaks a promise. What a great step forward we’ve made.” That was mean. So mean you could barely believe that such an awful taunt came from your tantalizing mouth — but even though you instantly regretted it, you didn’t falter. No matter your mad love for Arthur and the untamable desire to throw yourself in his arms, you weren’t going to bend: things needed to be clear right now or they’ll never never be.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m fucking sorry alright?!" He growled, opening his arms as to silently ask you what he had to do for you to believe him. "I swear there isn’t a second during which I’m not regretting everything I did and said to you.” He finally admitted, long arms falling along his slim body, “I wasn’t meself even if I know this ain’t no excuse. I won't do it again. But…Please Heaven I can’t go on without you. And I don’t want to.” The only answer to his pleadings was a heavy silence combined with your frost-like gaze.

Arthur’s eyes lingered over your arm until they fell on the deep cut you had inflicted upon yourself. This is what it feels like when you take drugs. The powerlessness he had felt when he watched the blood running down your skin and soaking the fabric of your clothes was etched in his mind: he, who had promised to protect you against everything, realized he couldn’t save you from yourself if you chose to destroy you… And that powerlessness was the same you experienced when he egoistically relapsed. That was a harsh lesson, but a lesson he had learned. “Please forgive me.” He begged and sucked in a sharp breath as if he was physically in pain, yet he still took your arm in his hand with indescribable softness and, with his free one, caressed your still swollen and red gash.

Your dainty body stood still, trying not to give in to the delightful sensation of his warm skin against yours but your heart sunk in your chest “You have to understand that you cannot act like a jerk, hurt me, treat me like shit and then come back with your puppy eyes, and beg for forgiveness. It doesn’t work like that." You said.

“So you're not coming back...” His voice broke, warm hand closing on your wound.

Your touch. I need it. It's a damn physical need.

“Don’t be stupid Arthur…” You sighed, the traits of your angelic face softening, “That’s not what I said."

"So please, love. Forgive me. I'll do whatever ye want. I'll get on my knees right now if that's what you want." His body shifted, closing the distance between the two of you until his arms wrapped around your waist. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the sight of his enchanting blue eyes, whose color was so different from his brothers. Slightly darker, far less colder. With your heart beating fast and your mind buzzing, you couldn't keep your fingers from gently grazing one of his cheeks. He half closed his eyelids at the sensation, the tremors of his body already calming down now that you were touching him.

"I don't want you to get on your knees. And I don't want to make a dog out of you like Linda did. All I ask for is my husband, who I know is a wonderfully strong man who doesn't need any chemicals to face the world. Not anymore." Your holy voice sounded like the purest melody in his ears like God's mercy whispered to him. Lulled by your words and strokes, Arthur would have purred if he wasn't already fighting against tears of relief.

"I've been such a fucking bastard... What the fuck is wrong with me eh? I still can't believe every mean thing I've screamed. The words I told ya, they're eating me sick brain." He gritted his teeth, "I don't fucking deserve you." Noticing that his breathing was getting faster, you wrapped his neck with your arms and lifted yourself on your tiptoes to lay a kiss on his chin.

"Stop it, Art. Don't beat yourself." You whispered in his ear, one hand lost in his perfectly slicked hair. "You want me to forgive you? Well; show me that all these promises you made weren’t empty. That our wedding can overcome everything, even the worst. Prove it to me." As you spoke, you softly rocked him from left to right, trying to calm his anxiety. A sigh escaped from your lips: you just couldn't abandon him as everyone else did. And part of you cursed him for making you feel so weak, especially when he was looking at you with his confused puppy eyes.

“I’ll show you then, angel. I’ll show you because without you birds don’t sing anymore.” He nodded, softly rubbing his cheek against yours. You could feel his heart drumming against your bosom, crying for yours to open up to him again. “I'll show you I'm still a good husband." His lips trailed down your cheek to capture yours, but the moment he tried to kiss them you slightly turned your head to the other side to deny him access to your mouth. He clenched his jaws.

“Go find Thomas and organize the funerals with him." You simply instructed, taking a step back to free yourself from his arms. The lanky gangster nodded and left, head down and arms swinging as he walked away.

All you wished now was that he truly meant what he said.

All alone in the betting shop, you leaned against a wall and closed your eyes, needing a bit of peace to reorganize your thoughts and soothe your overwhelming emotions. Moreover, you had to come to terms with the idea of living near Tommy, here in Small Heath. It has been only weeks since you left your small house in the forest but you already missed it. Suddenly, you jumped at the feeling of two cold hands grasping you by the shoulders. When you reopened your eyelids, you were met by Polly’s motherly smile and dark gaze. Eyes so black it outmatched the bark of the most ancient trees you had ever seen. And just like these trees, they had something mystical, as if they were keeping the Earth's secrets and infinite wisdom. For sure, Elizabeth Gray was a woman of nature, born in the wilderness and raised among the soft whispers of the leaves. You even wonder if her body contained blood or if it was amber sap that was coursing through her veins.

“I’m happy you came back, white Devil.” She said with a soft smile. Since the day she heard Tommy spat the insult at your face, she decided to reverse the curse and use it as an affectionate nickname for you -- an idea you found absolutely delightful.

“I’m a Shelby now, everyone says so… So I suppose my place is here.” The melancholy of your grin betrayed your thoughts and Polly understood that only now you were starting to understand what bearing this family name truly meant. “I'm not gonna lie, Polly, I didn’t want to come. That’s Mr. Gold who convinced me I needed to. After hours of bargaining, he got me by telling me it would get under Tommy's skin.”

“You call him Tommy now?” She teased, trying to make you smile but little she knew her remark had the opposite effect. You pursed your juicy lips and looked away.

“Something happened with him right.” The fierce Aunt frowned, observing your face as if she would be able to find an answer to her question hidden in your holy traits. Now sincerely concerned, her grip tightened on your shoulders, like benevolent roots anchoring you to reality. While she knew the difficult and rocky relationship you had with little King Shelby, she had never seen you display such a dreadful expression when his name was mentioned.

“Something always happens with him anyway. But that’s not important.” You closed the topic, not wanting to talk about him any longer. The fucker had done enough to infect your brain, so you didn’t want to give him more space. "Do you think Johnny Dogs says the truth about the Gold? I mean, I'm not Romani but the Gold are nice to me and--"

"Heaven. Oh Lord." She cut you off, her smile swept away from her face so quickly you blinked several times.

"What's the matter, Pol?" You asked, eyebrows frowned.

Freeing your shoulders, her left hand grabbed one of your breasts to squeeze it softly while the right one felt your abdomen at different places, looking for something you didn't know. The more she touched you, the more her facial expression seemed concerned. Completely taken aback by her sudden behavior, your lips parted in surprise as you watched her.

"Does Arthur know it?!" She inquired, her dark eyes switching between you and your tummy.

“Does Arthur know what?"

“That you’re pregnant.”

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @bluevenus19

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kiwiraccoon · 5 months

Text

Never Again

Gang member Mingi x reader

Word Count: 1335

Summary: you and Mingi fight, and when you run away an opposing gang member catches you in the alley way on your way out and tries to force drugs down your throat. Mingi, on his way to get you back, sees and loses his shit but calms only once you say his name.

Notes: MDNI, cursing, angst, fluff, drugs forced, attempted kidnapping, gang violence, gang related topics

“That’s it!” He yells throwing his phone down to the couch beside him trying to release some anger without breaking anything. A habit I helped him break.

“Oh that’s it? Alright fine.” In the heat of the moment I gather just my phone jacket and keys and start to walk out the door hoping he might say anything to stop me.

“Fine.” He says with the anger shaking his voice. If I were anyone else he would have said more and if this were a drug deal he would have either beat them to a pulp or used that brand new gun I got him and ended it before it got worse.

Instead of saying anything more I leave our apartment, his apartment and head straight for the elevator. In my fit of anger I can’t even comprehend the time. It’s dark out that’s all I know, and being in a relationship with a gang member I should know to never go out alone at night, but my clouded judgement does nothing but push me further out the glass doors.

The empty streets do nothing to clear my mind, and the damp air does little to help my breathing calm. “So fucking stupid!” I curse under my breath kicking a pebble with my heeled foot. “All of this over a damn drug deal that they don’t have enough information on! That’s it! God forbid I fucking care. My bad I didn’t know I shouldn’t fucking worry that the love of my life could die. Oops. Fucking ridiculous.”

My whispers to myself add to the silence of the night around me. That is until I get pulled into an alley way not far from the apartment, “what the fuck!?”

“Shut up!” A gruff voice says from behind me pulling me in close to their chest and holding me so tight my lungs struggle. He slams me against the brick wall and pins me against it. His face is covered by a mask but his eyes I can see. This black that makes my skin crawl.

“Who the fu-“

“Shut the fuck up!” He says again with so much anger that I think he’s the one who just had a break up argument. Instead of covering my mouth he grabs something from his pocket and through my hazy vision I can just make out that it’s small and held between his fingers. He raises it to my mouth and tries to shove it in but I do that best I can and bite his fingers hard.

He curses and drops the pill to look at his fingers to see blood. “You bitch.” I go to say something but in a second he is thrown off of me and air is brought back into my lungs. My vision is so blurry from tears and anxiety that I can’t see what is going on and I’m so afraid that my hearing has gone silent.

I slide down the wall and just let sob wreck through my body. I let out all my anger and fear and say the one name I wish could save me now “Mingi.” I continue sobbing into my hands whispering his name and saying my apologies for walking away.

Someone tries to pull my hands away and I freak out thinking the man won and came back to drug me again. “Baby I’m here. I’m here. It’s me baby. I’m here for you. Come here.” His strong arms pull me into him and instantly know who it is. He waists no time in picking me up and carrying me away to what I hope is back him.

He continues to whisper sweet nothings to me and hold me close occasionally rubbing my back while his other arm holds me up by my thigh. I cling on to him as if my life depends on it and refuse to open my eyes and face reality.

“We’re home baby.” He whispers and slightly let’s go to see if I will drop from his hold but I hold on tighter. “I’ve got you baby.” He holds on tight again and carries me to what I assume is our bedroom until I hear the sound of the shower. “Come on let’s get these off.”

I finally let him set me down on the counter but I keep my eyes closed shut, I don’t want to open them and find out all of this was just a drug induced dream. As soon as my clothes are off he picks me back up and I feel that he is still fully clothed. Under the water I realize this is reality and open my eyes to see the shower wall and let out a sigh of relief. “I got you baby. I won’t let you go.”

“Your clothes.” I say and notice my voice is weak from all the emotional distress.

“It’s okay. I’m going to set you down okay?”

“Okay.” He sets me down and turns me to face away from him. Mingi washes me hair with care and makes sure to massage my head just the way I like that calms me down. He takes some time to place kisses on my head and shoulders telling me he loves me and that he’s here.

“Mingi?”

“Yes baby?” He asks finishing washing out the conditioner from my hair.

“I’m so sorry.” I say and turn around the hug him tightly around his waist. He doesn’t hug back at first from the shock of my words.

“What?” He pulls me away to look in my eyes and push any stray hairs away from my face. “Baby you have nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

“But I-“

“No. I don’t care what you think in that beautiful head of yours, you did nothing to be sorry about. That motherfucker took advantage of you and tried to fucking drug you. And I was so worried about my pride and ego that I was pushing you away and it led to this. If anything I’m sorry, but he should be the most sorry. He should rot in hell. He would be there if you didn’t say my name. I was seeing red.” He pulls me back into him and hugs me tightly. “I’m so sorry baby. Let’s get you dried off and in bed, okay?”

I let my tears fall as I nod and let him pull me out of the shower to wrap a towel around me. He sets me down on the counter again and leaves for a few minutes to change his clothes and grab some for me. He comes back in a large black t-shirt and sweat pants and dresses me in my favorite hoodie of his along with underwear. He brushes my hair just the way I like and wipes my face clean with my products. After he’s down he moves us to the bed and cuddles me close.

“It’s not your fault.” I say into the darkness still clinging on to him and nuzzling into his chest.

“Yes it is. If I did-“

“No Mingi. It’s not anyone’s fault. Couples fight, we fought. But neither of us knew what would happen so it’s not our fault. Please don’t blame yourself. Please.” I beg and sit up to face him. In the darkness I can just make him out and can see that he is looking at my every move.

“Fine but never again. We won’t fight again, we won’t walk away again, and this won’t happen ever again. No one will ever touch my baby ever again. I will protect you with my life at all costs, okay?”

“Me too baby.” I say and stick out my pinky finger, “promise?”

“Pinky promise.” We lock fingers and then he pulls me into a kiss, on that has my using his chest to hold my self up and his hand in my damp hair holding me close.

“I love you Mingi.”

“I love you more than you will ever know.”

#Mingi #Ateez Mingi #Mingi ateez #Ateez #Mingi x reader #Gang member #Song mingi #Song mingi fic #Mingi fic #Mingi imagine #Ateez Song Mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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lousypotatoes · 6 months

Note

Can we please get Loona x Male Sinner Reader? Thanks for your time!

Oh boy, I'm not the best at writing for male readers, but I'll do my best!! Hope you like it <33

Song Recommendation:

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding

Part 2

The Intern - Loona x Male Reader

"I swear, I'm gonna shoot myself if Blitz has me get him one more cup of fucking coffee," you grumbled, setting down the plastic cup full of the hot liquid.

"Well, that's what an intern does, Y/N," Moxxie said. "They run errands, get coffee, get lun-"

"I get the point, Mox," you mumbled, running your fingers through your H/C hair. "Did you guys need anything?"

"Nah, we're good," Millie said. "Thanks Y/N!"

"Mhmmm,"

"Y/N!!! WHERE'S MY FUCKING COFFEE?!"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" you cried out, grabbing the coffee cup, starting to walk towards Blitzo's office.

"You better get in there," Loona joked. "You don't wanna see him without his coffee."

You turned your head, hoping to hide the blush creeping up on your face. "He's not that scary,"

At that moment, Blitzo came out of his office, looking very tired and very angry.

He looked scary.

"Y/N, if you don't give me my coffee right now," he said in a deadly calm voice. "I will rip your dick off and shove it down your throat and out of your ass you FUCKING CUNT LICKING BITCH!!!

You looked over at Loona, smirking at you because she was right.

"Sorry Blitz," you muttered, handing him the coffee cup. "Here's your coffee sir,"

He swiped the coffee cup from your hand and chugged the whole thing.

"Ah! Now that's much better!" Blitzo said, stretching out his limbs, throwing the empty coffee cup at your head. "Now go get me some booze."

"What kind would you like, sir?" you grumbled.

"I don't fucking know, anything to get me drunk off my ass," he said, walking back into is office. "It's a get drunk off my ass kinda day."

"Right away Blitz," you mumbled as he slammed his office door.

"You want me to come with you?" Loona asked.

"Oh-uh" you stuttered. "Only if you want,"

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

"What's Earth like?" Loona said suddenly, as the two of you walked back to I.M.P headquarters.

"A lot better than Hell, that's for sure," you chuckled, swinging the bag filled with beer.

"How did you die?" she asked.

"What's with all the questions, Loona," you joked. "I was driving home drunk one night and t-boned someone."

"Damn," Loona said. "That sucks, I'm sorry."

"It's whatever,"

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"Why did you decided to intern at I.M.P?"

You had to think about it for a moment.

"I guess I wanted to learn to protect myself against the exterminators," you said. "And what better way to learn than from assassins."

Loona stayed quiet.

"I don't know if I'm gonna stay an intern, though," you said, rubbing your bicep. "I might just check in to that redemption hotel."

"Well if you do," Loona began. "We'll stay in contact, right?"

"Yeah, of course,"

You and Loona awkwardly smiled at each other. Blush creeping onto both of your faces.

"Hey, you wanna get a bite to eat?" Loona asked, pointing to a fast-food place across the street.

"Sure," you said.

"Blitz would throw a fucking hissy fit if he found we were hanging out,"

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

"YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU SAW MY LOONY AND THAT HPV HAVING PRICK LEAVE TOGETHER AND YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!?!"

"I-I didn't think anything of it sir-"

"IF THOSE TWO END UP PLAYING TONSIL TENNIS, I SWEAR TO GOD MOX, I WILL FUCK YOU AND YOUR WIFE SO FUCKING HARD THAT YOUR DAD WILL FEEL IT IN HIS MOBSTER BOSS BALLS!!!!"

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

I haven't written for Helluva Boss before, so I hope it's good lol. I also need to rewatch the series. Hopefully we get a new episode soon lmao.

Remember to drink lots of water and stay safe <33

xoxo, Izzy

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #loona #loona x reader #hazbin hotel #blitz #blitzo #moxxie #millie #moxxie and millie

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fox-bright · 2 months

Text

I'm playing TotK again, and wondering. After all is said and done, villain routed, battle won--do you think Zelda ever prays to Hylia again?

I mean, imagine being her.

You devote yourself with fervor to the worship of your grandmother goddess, she whose golden blood runs through you. You know, you know that she is real; her mark is visible everywhere on the face of the world. You meditate and you sacrifice and you pray, you pray so constantly that it comes and goes like breathing. Waiting for the still small voice your mother told you stories about, before she died; waiting for the touch of a golden hand. For comfort. For purpose. For peace.

And all you get, ever, is silence. Not even the quiet of a held breath, the hollow ears-ringing of an empty room.

And then Calamity comes. And you do everything you can, and it's laughable how quickly your defenses break. A straw against a sword. Your army dies, most of them in the first few minutes of the fight. And your family dies, your father, aunts and uncles, cousins every one destroyed inside the same forty-five minutes. And your friends die, everyone who pledged themselves to you--they die first, and in pain, in full view of their people.

(And then their souls are trapped for a century, waiting for you to finally fulfill your fucking promises.)

Your warrior, your most devoted, your silent watcher, dies in your arms.

And then She comes to you. A drop of Her spirit, too little, too late, only just enough to preserve your knight until his body could be healed. And you scrape together every other bit of power you can summon and every scrap of knowledge you've ever managed to learn about wards and magical defense, and you walk into hell, and you curl around the devil and you go to sleep for a century.

And you have some power, now! Enough to fight him when he wakes. Enough to put him down, for a little while. And you think, maybe it's over, you can gather up your scattered people and rebuild at long last. And you start, and you get five or seven years at it before the real enemy shows up.

And again, you do what you have to do.

And again, you sacrifice...everything. All you have. More than you knew you could, because at least when you petted the devil to sleep for a century you were still yourself. Now you have to lose even that, and for an unimaginable amount of time. What's a century next to a hundred millennia? What's the eyelid-flicker of your mortal life, that mere couple of decades--you don't even notice decades anymore. Centuries are seasons to you now.

And here's the real bitch of the problem, that could only become clear to you from this height; you could never get Her attention in that mortal lifetime because you'd already been in perfect communion with Her for scores of thousands of years before you were born. Because anyone who is Goddess-touched gets torn out of time, and good luck putting your feet squarely on any forward-stretching path ever again.

Because the Dragon of Light is never out of Her sight, not ever, not for an instant, and what does some bit of chaff, some mortal mite, have in comparison to that accord?

What do you think it's like, to realize that the reason everyone you ever cared about died, was because they already had? Because when you went back, the ever-watchful eyes of Hylia learned everything you knew, and would not act to change it?

What do you think it's like, to know that no matter how hard you struggled, every single bit of effort you ever put toward saving the world was wasted? That there was nothing, nothing you could have done? If you'd known, you could have told them all to get away from you, and that's the only way you could have saved them. But you didn't know, and She didn't warn you, did she. No matter how much you abased yourself, begging for knowledge or aid.

And now at the end of all of it, returned again for a second time to her little, mortal self, tiny body, tiny lifespan, how do you think Zelda feels? She's been Goddess-ridden for longer than every civilization on her planet has existed. She has had Hylia's voice in her ears for every moment of eons. She has access to knowledge now that not one of her line of Priestess Queens has ever imagined.

But I think. If I were Zelda. I'd get my feet squarely back on the ground, and I'd commune with Her one last time, and I'd tell Her. "You got what you needed from me. And I guess I got what I needed from you. So we can call it even; we're quits. I'm done. I'll leave the key under the mat."

#the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda #fox writes

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soliarus · 1 year

Text

Thoughts Of You

-fluff, hangover, dahyun acting like a hopeless lesbian!! implied relationship

: hangover or not Dahyun's mind never ceases to stop racing, especially about you

words 684

non-idol!dahyun x fem!reader

Through the open window, a soft breeze wafted into the room, it welcomed a nice shine of light which gladly took its place, laying a sunny streak over Dahyun’s sleeping face. As pretty as she looked with the sun shining on her face, she didn’t seem to like it much. If the groan was anything to go by, and the whine as she turns to face the other way, shifting around on the bed.

Fuck the sun. I’m tired n wanna sleep. Head hurts. Where is she?

A giggle rings through her head, the sound pounding off the walls of her brain. Another groan, and although her eyes are closed she feels around the bed, looking for something or rather someone. Another giggle echoes in her head, and Dahyun has to adjust her eyes, taking in the empty white sheets around her.

Mmmm, actually this breeze feels nice. But, where is she???

She turns back over, and her head hurts, it aches terribly, but she wants you first. You’re sitting next to the same damn window that woke her up, in a plain white tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants. Criss-cross on a large beanbag, work laptop on your lap, with your reading glass on. You tilt your head at her, waiting for her to come to her senses, even if it was just a little bit.

Shit that’s hot for no reason. Say something, c’mon, say something.

“Good Morning” Dahyun mumbles, more like grumbles, into silence, this time you hold back your laugh, biting your lip. Getting up and walking towards her, you softly run your hand through her tangled hair. Dahyun leans closer towards the touch.

“Good morning to you too,” you whisper softly, “even if it’s four in the afternoon”. Dahyun huffs, closing her eyes to bear the pain grunting as you help her sit up against the headboard. You place a glass of water against her lips, and then hand her some painkillers. Dahyun’s eyes furrow, she swallowed the pills with difficulty, tilting her head back felt horrible and when she did it felt like her brain moved in her head, worsening this already unbearable ache.

Never drinking again, ever. Not happening, no matter what. But this treatment is to die for… a pretty girl, with pretty hair, n pretty eyes, my pretty-

“I know baby, it aches, but you did such a good job,” you praise her and leave a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiles, almost in bliss, she thinks that if she gets enough kisses from you, you’d be able to cure this horrible hangover.

More please, kiss me more, praise me more. M’like it, more please.

“I’ll get you something to eat, be right back,” you assure her before stepping out of the room.

nooooo come baaaack

And you do, holding a bowl of warm Miso soup, you sit on the edge of the bed, you mix the soup with the spoon, before lifting it up to feed Dahyun. The girl blushes, and she lifts her hand, “It’s okay, you don’t have to feed me”. You smile, your eyes pointing towards her lifted hand, it’s shaking, “oh”. And Dahyun quickly puts her hand back down, her blush reaching her ears.

That was so fucking embarrassing.

“You’re cute,” you mumble, feeding her. Dahyun has to grip the sheets to brace herself.

No u.

“Where did you order the soup from anyway?” Dahyun tries to make light conversation, but your sudden frown makes her want to bury herself. “Doesn’t taste good enough?”

Fuck Dahyun, you desperate gay freak! You made her sad!

“S-sorry! It’s just really good! Like the best soup I’ve ever had! Literally at the top of my list now! Just wanted to know where you got it cuz it’s that good-” Dahyun truthfully rambles. You blush, looking away, a soft smile on your lips as you tug a piece of hair behind your ears. It’s like Dahyun is falling more in love with each passing second. “I made it myself, actually; I’m glad you like it,” Dahyun beams.

Dahyun, you smart bitch!

#twice x reader #twice imagines #twice #dahyun #dahyun imagines #dahyun x reader #twice imagine #twice dahyun

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munsonsreputation · 2 years

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part one: new romantics (can be read as a stand alone) | masterlist

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [9.7K] I did my best to proof read <3

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, a little argument, friends to lovers, SMUT (MDNI OR I WILL JUMP YOU!!!) kissing, bj, f!ngering, piv (unprotected...wear protection irl, this is just fiction y'all), multiple o's (reader lol), creampie (my fave pie, wbu yall??? JK), aftercare.

summary: after you and eddie became a little more than friends after what was supposed to be a disastrous prom night, you two begin to get closer as the weeks go by. when he invites you to his show at the hideout, you don't expect to see his friend robin cozying up to him your jealousy bubbles over because you like eddie a lot, but in true dramatic fashion, eddie confesses that you are the only one he wants to be with and he will show you just how much he means it.

You peeked out your blinds, hearing the familiar roar of his engine just blocks away from your house followed by the music that would probably shatter all his windows if they weren’t rolled down. But then again, he was your favorite boy, the one you just so happened to fall for on what was supposed to be a disastrous prom night turned into the most romantic one of your life.

“Son of a bitch.” You muttered under your breath with a mischievous smirk.

His van was flying through the streets and you could hear the guitar riff from his favorite song resounding through the neighborhood.

Wasting no time, you grabbed your purse, running down the stairs and stopping at the front door to press your feet into the soles of your boots, “I’ll be home in the morning!”

Your words were cut short, slamming the door shut before either of your parents could hear, but they trusted you enough to know you’d be safe and that you’d call if anything was to happen.

Eddie grinned like a madman, reaching over to turn down the volume of his music the minute he saw you waiting for him in your driveway. You wore a simple black slip dress with some roses on the cups, along with a hot red leather jacket that complimented the classic lipstick he loved on your lips. Your legs accentuated with the black boots you decided on for the night.

You looked to die for.

“Hey, hot stuff!” You hailed out cheekily, skipping your way to his van where he reached over to open the door for you, letting you into the space that became more familiar as the days went by.

Prom was only a few weeks ago, and since then you and Eddie had gotten a lot closer with the more time you spent with one another. He’d give you rides back home after school. Talk you up in the halls during passing periods. And even invited you over to his trailer to hang out and “study” together. It was nice, what was going on between you two, though neither of you knew what to label what it was.

You’d share hugs at school but kisses in his trailer. Innocent glances in the cafeteria and winks when no one was looking. Your hands would brush against each other when you “accidentally” dropped your binder in front of his locker, yet held hands when the school parking lot was empty and the two of you walking to his van.

The connection was obviously there, hidden behind closed doors in an oasis that was your very own.

“You look beautiful,” He grinned, his eyes trained on your every effortless movement beside him.

The way you slammed his van door with ease (if it was the kids he’d surely yell at them). The way your hair tossed over your shoulder when you glimpsed at him. And the way you leaned forward to lay a glossy kiss to his lips.

You giggled as you pulled away, noticing a smudge of red lipstick on Eddie’s lips. He smirked, puckering his lips towards you to make kissy faces while you continued to laugh.

Reaching over, you gently wiped it off with your thumb, eyes locking with his. “There, all better,” you said, beaming, as you patted his cheek affectionately.

Eddie snickered, his eyes sparkling with affection, wrapping his ringed fingers around your wrist to hold you, “Thanks,” he said, before leaning in to kiss you again.

He pulled away this time, just sitting there admiring your whole getup on that Friday night. Meanwhile, you tried to play it cool, eyes drifting over his chest where the white t-shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps and accentuated his broad shoulders.

Maybe the damn thing was new, but it was different from what he usually wore. Of course, he looked good in anything, whether it was the rented tux he wore on prom night, his usual club t-shirt, or his Corroded Coffin tee—but this was a different type of nice.

Eddie caught you, observant of the way he hadn’t caught your eyes for a few seconds, as they were too busy focusing on his chest. When you did eventually meet his eyes, you blinked fiercely, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“What are you looking at?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You felt your face flush, trying to come up with a clever response to conceal your gawking, but jeez, you didn’t have any intention of not letting him know how good he was looking.

“You look really handsome tonight,” you managed to say, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

He grinned, looking down at his outfit. “Thanks, I wanted to look my best for you,” he said, before graciously adding, “But I think you’re the one stealing the show with those red lips.”

Blushing at the compliment, you felt a warm sensation spread through your body. “Well, I wanted to look good for you too,” you said, before leaning in for another kiss.

In the few weeks that you and Eddie had been seeing each other, this was a recurring theme. Getting lost in kisses and innocent gazes that flowed with the passing time. Sure, maybe others would call it, “complicated” or weird, with what you two had going on, but you both seemed to be content with what it was.

Calling it what you two wanted.

Eddie pinched his eyes tightly, when a small whine escaped your mouth when he nibbled on the bottom of your lip. Being here with you was already doing things to him, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say fuck tonight’s set and spend the rest of the night with you here in your driveway making out like stereotypical teenagers.

But, shit, Eddie did promise to perform a few songs for you and even worked in a metal version of Madonna into the setlist that he was going to surprise you with. You two would be able to share way more kisses later on in the night.

He pulled away, breathless and smiling, a mirroring image of you doing the same, “I think we better get going before I lose all self-control,” Eddie said smirked, kissing your hand before allowing you to wipe off the ruby red stain on his lips.

The drive to the Hideout was peaceful, accompanied by the conversation that you and Eddie shared over his bandmates and your nervousness meeting them. You’d only ever seen them in the halls and cafeteria when you were too busy staring at Eddie and they’d nudge him, making you blush and tear your eyes away.

His best kept oath: you.

Despite his friend’s urges to know who you were and why you were staring at Eddie so goddamn much, he never revealed a peep about the two of you out of respect. Instead settling for the short and sweet answer: “She’s a pretty girl and I’m a pretty boy—nothing wrong with admiring each other.”

You knew Eddie had really great friends, ones that were protective of him for good reason. They were an extension of his very limited family and you loved that you had the privilege of getting to be in his life. You just hoped that his friends knew you had good intentions with him.

But Eddie assured you, squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh, doing his best to keep his wild eyes between you and the road. He knew his friends would warm up to you and it would only take a simply meeting to have them knowing that you were the girl that Eddie couldn’t shut up about.

And so when you two finally arrived at The Hideout, there was no hesitancy from either of you when you intertwined your hands walking into the bar. It wasn’t fully packed, but there were a decent amount of people there, most likely to enjoy a few drinks on the Friday evening, but little did they know they’d be graced with Hawkins’ own Corroded Coffin.

“You guys get your own dressing room?” Your voice was full of surprise when Eddie passed the stage and headed down the dim hallway.

He laughed, kissing the side of your head innocently, as he clutched your hand, “It’s more like a storage room, but dressing room sounds a lot cooler.”

Instinctively, your head leaned into his shoulder, nudging him adoringly while you looked up past your lashes and your smile glimmered past the dark, “Soon you’ll have a real dressing room and plenty of groupies wanting to come inside.”

He rolled his eyes, dropping your hand as you two finally came full stop in front of a door with clattering going on in the inside.

“I don’t want the groupies,” His voice was low and sultry, taking the time to lace his arms across your back, pulling your front towards him where your arms wrapped around his neck, “not unless it’s you.”

You tiptoed, almost face to face with Eddie now, close enough to feel his smokey breath fanning over your face, “I don’t think I qualify as a groupie, smooth talker.” You teased.

The two of you shared a laugh before you initiated the kiss, closing the space between your lips. So wrapped up in each other arms, you didn’t notice the door creaking open until there was a clearing of someone’s throat.

You yelped, pulling away from him, and letting your cheek rest in his chest as his friends crowded the door, shellshocked and intrigued by the scene, “Sorry to interrupt.”

You were borderline sheepish, cursing at yourself for getting caught up in the moment with lipstick now all over Eddie’s face and most likely smudged all over yours, too. Thank god you brought a touch up.

But Eddie was far from ashamed, proudly drawing you closer and lifting your feet off the ground of a couple of centimeters as you screeched, holding him tighter.

“This is my girl,” He introduced you with a smile from ear to ear, only letting go of your hand when his bandmates stepped forward to shake yours as he watched with pride.

You instantly felt welcomed despite the intrusive moment that passed quickly. They invited you in—Jeff pushing a box of tissues into Eddie’s chest so he could clean up his face and Gareth pointing to the small mirror hung up on the wall so you could touch up your lipstick.

Kevin was the one who smiled at you through the mirror’s reflection, slinging his arms roughly around your boy. “You’ve got him whipped. We’ve never seen this side of him before.”

You’ve never been like this before, either.

Being able to let this guy so freely into your life and allowing yourself to be immersed into his. It was a new yet comfortable feeling, one that you hoped would never burn out.

Eddie shrugged him off, making his way towards you, rest his chin on your shoulder and admiring you in the mirror before flicking his eyes back up to his friends, “Shut up and tune your instruments.”

Their banter was lighthearted and harmless as they messed around in the cramped space and learned more about you. That is before Eddie had led you back out to the main part of the bar, securing you a front-row seat in front of the stage.

You were in awe the entire set, hips moving the music and hair tossing around as you jumped up and down. Eddie was a complete natural on stage—his voice, the way his fingers jumped over the frets of his guitar, and his presence blowing you away.

He glanced at you in between songs, trying to get a grip on his self-control because all he really wanted to do was pull you up on stage and kiss you in front of everyone. You’re the first girl he had ever invited to one of his shows like this, and you were doing more than just enjoying yourself but showing him that he was good at what did.

“Thank you, goodnight everyone!” Eddie strummed his guitar one finally time before shooting you a wink as he and the band exited the stage.

He instantly came to find you, now moved along at the small stairs leading up to the platform. You were glowing with pride, arms opened wide until he closed the expanse, engulfing you in his cages and lifting you off the ground.

“You fucking killed it, babe!” You shrieked in his ear, making him and his friends laugh as he carried you through the small space and up to the bar where he sat you down on one of the chairs.

When you retracted from his neck, your fingers brushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead and pecked his lips, “Did’y like the Madonna song?”

He wiggled his brows as you giggled and nodded your head enthusiastically, “I fucking loved it, I never thought you would play—”

“Madonna!? Holy shit, Munson, you didn’t tell us you’d do Madonna!”

Behind him was a woman and another guy. Eddie let his hands fall from you, his body turning around to meet the two, immediately hugged by the girl. Her arms linked around his neck like you just had a moment ago. He hugged her back tightly as he did to you moments ago.

A twinge of jealously now replaced your pride watching how easily he got comfortable with her. When they finally pulled away, Eddie turned back to you, grabbing your hand and holding it up for them to see.

“Babe, this is Robin and Steve. Guys, this is my girl.”

She reached forward, a big smile on her face as she introduced herself while you shook her hand, trying not to crush it hard and show you were territorial over Eddie. Steve opted for a wave and smile, nudging Eddie and saying, “You never said you had a girlfriend?”

You and Eddie laughed off that comment. Or at least you tried to.

And Steve was right, Eddie himself never said you were his girlfriend or that he was your boyfriend. You didn’t want to seem clingy or possessive because that wasn’t your right, but it was eating you up inside.

Watching at how Robin would occasionally poke at Eddie’s arms and sides, rolling her eyes at his jokes and sometimes laughing a bit too loud. Eddie didn’t seem to have any intentions on stopping her more than friendly actions, instead entertaining them and sometimes doing the same to her.

You wondered if there’s more between her, and Eddie than he was letting on.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity Eddie waved goodbye to the two as he took your hand and led you outside to the parking lot to head back to his van. You had barely engaged in the conversation back inside there and he assumed you wanted to leave—you sure as hell did.

You both sat in silence on the way home, but not the comfortable kind. The kind that could be cut with a knife and served on a cold, lonely plate.

Eddie cleared his throat, glancing at your blank stare out of the windshield with your arms crossed over your chest and a scowl poorly concealed beneath your features.

“Everything okay, doll? You’ve been quiet for a while.” He took another concerned glance, watching the way you crossed your legs over one another but faced it opposite of him.

You only murmured, shaking your head and saying in a monotone voice, “I’m fine, just tired…was a long night.”

He wasn’t buying it…you were never this quiet on car rides home, but he didn’t want to push it, so he decided to change the subject to something a little more lively.

“What did you think of the Madonna song? Was it up to par?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, finally tearing your eyes away from the window and looking at him, “It was great. I really liked it…Robin seemed to love it even more.”

The venom in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie who instantly picked up on the tone when you mentioned his friend’s name.

He looked at you with a hint of confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that she seemed really excited about it. Very excited, actually.” You explained, avoiding eye contact with him.

Eddie furrowed his brows slightly, fingers clenching and unclenching around the steering wheel as he tried to read you, “And that bothers you?”

“Of course not,” You scoffed, finally meeting his glance with a glare before you turned away.

The rest of the car ride was uncomfortably quiet and stiff. Eddie turned up the radio, hoping that some music would ease the tension, but it didn’t. And you were cold, whole body turned away from his, and your eyes staring out of the window as the streetlights passed by in a blur.

As you two finally turned into his trailer park, your mood seemed to darken even more, clicking your seatbelt off before he even got to his trailer and almost ready to hop out the car before he put it in park.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?” Eddie finally said, turning off the ignition.

You exhaled heavily, “I’m fine, Eddie.”

He watched you open the passenger door, hopping out without a word before you slammed it shut. You were already waiting by the trailer door when he finally got out and locked up the van.

Your foot tapped against the creaky wood, waiting as he grumbled and unlocked the front door to let you in first. You brushed past him, toeing off your boots and harshly shrugging off your leather jacket and tossing it on the couch along with your purse.

The tension was palpable—tenser than it was in the van.

You made a beeline for his room, just wanting to sleep off your simmering jealousy and ignore the questioning looks he was shooting you. But ignoring him only fueled his desire to know what was going on in your head.

“Baby, talk to me…did I say something?” His voice pleading as he trailed behind you through the narrow hallway.

You ignored him, rolling your eyes, as you pushed his door open, “Did I not say anything?”

“It’s more like what you didn’t do.” You let out, dropping yourself on his bed where you closed your eyes.

He let out a sound, a stuttered-like one that was trying to go back in time to think about what could have possibly gotten you this upset. He tried—he went over every single thing he did after his set that could’ve ticked you off but he couldn’t find anything. All he remembered was getting drowned in praises as he carried you to the bar before Steve and—oh.

“R-Robin? Are you jealous of Robin?” His voice was questionable, yet you couldn’t miss the strained laugh that died at the back of his throat when he asked you about it.

That just seemed to set you off even more, as you forced yourself off his bed onto your elbows and faced him. “Are you seriously asking me that? She was all fucking over you!”

Your voice was fierce, eyes glaring up at him through your lashes. You didn’t want to be this way, bubbling over with resentment over something so petty. But you really liked Eddie—more than friends and more than friends with whatever the hell was going between you and him.

He was taken aback, snapping his neck and squinting over you at your sudden brutality. He’d never seen you so angry before and to be quite honest, it caused a simmering of worry to start producing in his stomach. No girl had ever felt like this towards him, and this was new.

All of it was new to him—but the sort of newness that was reinvigorating, the kind that reassured him that you really did like him the way that he liked you. But right now it wasn’t about being shocked at your feelings, but trying to get your feelings to settle. To reassure you.

“She’s just a friend, I swear.” He sought to soothe the situation and the anger smoldering inside you, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Just a friend? You kept replaying the moments in your head and how that made you feel when you saw him and Robin acting just the like you two.

“Well, she seemed pretty interested in you.” You snapped back, wrenching your arms over one another as your icy demeanor stayed intact.

His own emotions flared at your accusation, stepping back from you with his hands on his hips, “What are you trying to say? That I’m a liar? That I don’t like you?”

You sat up fully on his bed, scooting up to the foot as you scowled, “I never said that. But you didn’t even seem to notice that she was practically drooling over you.”

“I didn’t notice because it’s not true,” Eddie responded firmly stepping a bit closer, letting his arms fall to his sides, “I only have eyes on you, but I won’t tolerate you accusing me over something like that if you won’t try to have a civilized conversation with me.”

Your scowl deliberately faded as you blinked. You didn’t mean to get so heated, and you hated that you were taking it out on him with your emotions rather than just telling him how you felt. And this was partly because you were terrified about what was to come.

Ever since you and Eddie had begun hanging out more casually than not, you couldn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. But what if you were just a fun little thing in his eyes? What if this entire situation was just to fill Eddie’s time and he never really actually liked you the way that you liked him?

“I—I’m sorry,” Your voice was cool now, views traveling down to your hands where you fiddled with them guiltily.

You continued, “I didn’t mean to blow up like that…it’s just that—Robin…seeing you with her made me feel jealous, but I know I shouldn’t feel that way because we aren’t even dating.”

He gulped, a half relieved sigh leaving his body as he finally made the move to settle beside you, taking your hands in his. His thumbs rubbing your knuckles back and forth before nudging your chin with his forehead, prompting you to finally meet his eyes with yours.

“Hey, you have every right to feel jealous, but I promise you on everything in my life…I’m not interested in anyone else.” He paused, watching the way your eyes glazed over with forgiveness and understanding, “M’sorry for making you feel like that…I never wanted to do that to you.”

The beating of your heart going so fast as you listened, “I want to be with you. Only you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness and comfort, clutching his hands in yours as you asked just to be sure it was real, “R-Really?”

He laughed, nodding his head as he let go of your hands and cupped your cheeks, pressing a kiss to both of them before pulling away and asking the most important question you’d heard all night.

“Would you make me the luckiest guy in Hawkins and be my girl? Officially?”

You giggled, closing your eyes as you nodded, pressing your face forward to kiss his lips, letting yourself melt against him as your mouths moved in tandem so naturally. When you pulled away, you opened your eyes, his following suite, “That means yes, by the way.”

Eddie chuckled, kissing your lips once more, letting them move on their own accord as your fingers laced through his hair, pulling him closer. For once in your life, Eddie was the only man that ever made you feel like this, so infatuated and safe in a way that was warming.

Normally, you didn’t prioritize romantic ties with anyone, but that was before Eddie. Before you realized that, it could feel like home with the right person, even if it was just a guy you met a few weeks ago. Someone who could make you feel better and ease every little worrying thought with a simple apology and sweet nothings.

He asked about what you liked and didn’t like. He got you to tell him about your deepest and darkest fears along with some of the silliest things you're scared of. He always respected your boundaries and never pushed you further than you liked. He made you feel comfortable, yet the butterflies never stop swirling in the pit of your stomach every time you saw him.

He was yours and you wanted to show him just how much you were his.

“E-Eds,” you moaned fluttering lashes as you felt him move his lips down to your neck—sucking and biting on your skin, knowing the exact spot that got you to produce pretty sounds for him.

You both had never gone all the way just yet. The most that you two did was partaking in heated make out sessions with curious hands sneaking over each other’s clothes. You weren’t a virgin, and you knew Eddie had sex a few times before, but it was even more nerve-racking, finally being ready to go all the way with a guy you really liked.

“Eddie,” you said a bit more firmly, prompting him to immediately pull away from your neck, a reddish purple kiss already beginning to form under your skin.

His eyes did a one over your face, trying to see if you were okay—if he pushed too far this time, in the heat of the moment.

“You okay? You want me to stop?”

You shook your head, eyes innocently doeing up at him while you bit your lip, trying to get the right words to come to your head so that you could just spit them out.

“I—I’m ready…I want us to have sex, only if you want to though.”

He smiled softly, turning his head to kiss your wrist where your hands were still tangled in his roots. Eddie was more than content spending the night with you cuddled up in his chest, pressing innocent kisses between each other, but if you were ready, then so was he.

“You sure? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, baby.” He assured you, removing your hand from his hair and intertwining them together.

You smiled, nodding your head assuringly as you scooted closer to him, “I’m sure…I want you, please?”

The moon lit up his dim room like it was the goddamn grand-stage with a beauty like you sitting on his bed. He couldn’t help but want to brag that a girl like you—someone so kind, funny, and understanding like you would ever want to be with a guy like him.

“Eds…” you whispered, untangling your hands from his as you cupped his face, noticing he was staring blankly at you, “w-we don’t have to do anything? No pressure at—”

He silenced you with a kiss. A bruising, passionate one that had your fingers tangling in his messy hair, tugging him closer as you opened your mouth wider granting his permission to explore. Your hands did some exploring of their own, letting go of his roots and trailing your hands down his chest, beneath the hem of his shirt and feeling his warm skin underneath it.

You had memorized the indentations of his toned body, fingertips sailing over the skin until they settled on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat over your tips.

A breath of fresh air came into your body as he pulled away, both of your mouths glistening with saliva as you caught your breath while he worked slowly now, moving his lips to your neck, peppering delicate kisses then and along your jaw.

“You mean so much to me,” He mumbled under your ear where he pressed a sweet kiss, causing you to moan his name, “let me show you how much you mean to me, doll.”

“Please, Eds…need you so bad.” You murmured, closing your eyes as he sucked on the skin—your bottom lip caught between your teeth with whimpers escaping as you knew a hickey would be there tomorrow.

Eventually he let go of your skin with a pop licking over the bruised area for good measure and smacking a kiss before he retracted from you entirely. Standing up, he admired you as he shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it behind him as he watched you inhale deeply with every move he made.

His eyes never let up on, watching how shy you had gotten all of a sudden. Your face tucked into your shoulder a small smile quirked up on your lips and your legs crossing over each other, “It’s just me baby, no need to be shy.” He murmured, walking closer to you as his fingers worked his belt off and his fly open.

“I know…I just want it to be good for you.” You said meekly, tucking your face into his shoulder as he lingered over you.

He was so fucking lucky.

“Sweets,” His tone instantly consoling, as he pulled you away, hands coming to clutch your cheeks as he stared deeply into yours, getting your attention, “Anything with you is going to be good, alright? Just relax and let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

You were so fucking lucky.

“Is it ok if I take this off?” His fingers chased down the flimsy strap of your dress where it practically already hung off your shoulder.

You nodded your head, smiling as you leaned forward and pecked his lips, feeling a grin spread on his face. “You can take it off.”

The silky material of your dress cascaded off your body as he dragged it down by the straps. A small shiver came over you as your bare chest met the cold air of his trailer, but he warmed you up instantly as one of his hands cradled your ribcage.

“So pretty, baby.”

Your dress now laid on the floor, letting yourself be nearly bare in front of him for the first time. Eddie looked hesitant at first, gawking at your chest, then back to your face, then back to your chest before—

“You can touch them, Eds.” You assured him, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling his hand up higher until they settled over your breasts, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth feeling his touch on your sacred skin.

His breath hitched for a second, your nipples hardening up under his palms as your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened as you breathed deeply—he was obsessed with how you looked right now.

“Perfect, doll.” His praises were like music to your ears, leading you to sink deeper and deeper into the ocean of pleasure that you knew Eddie would take you to in a matter of moments.

His lips kissed the exposed skin of your chest—sucking, nipping, and licking every piece of you with need and desire as his hands worked your tits, pinching, twisting, and flicking.

“C-can I do something?” You were breathless, already on the brink of stimulation just by his touch. It was insane how easily you turned into putty in his hands. But you couldn’t say you were surprised.

Eddie always knew what you liked and how you liked it.

You could feel the delicate skin he sucked on, swelling in his mouth before he pulled away with a pop, darting his eyes up at you, twinkling innocently as if he wasn’t coating your skin in hickies.

“Anything you want, sweets.” He said, and a smile appeared on your face, ducking your head down to meet his lips as your hands twisted in his t-shirt.

Deepening the kiss by the second, you were able to use his shirt as leverage to usher him up to the bed with you, while your feet met the fuzzy carpeted floors before sinking to your knees, feeling your silky dress beneath your skin.

“Can I?” Your fingers hovered over his already open fly as he nodded his head with a soft smile.

He helped you work his jeans off his legs as the heavy material laid next to your knees and then he worked off his t-shirt, rumpling it up and tossing to towards the side.

He was ridiculously hard already, and the tent in his boxers was proving your theory correct as your hands shakily pampered at his member over the material. You’d only went down on one of your ex’s, so it was safe to say that your experience in this region wasn’t necessarily the best, but you wanted to try for Eddie.

“Will you tell me if I do something wrong?” You gulped, proceeding to rub your hand up and down his length, aware of his knee bumping up and down and his chest down the same.

His hazy demeanor swiftly waned as his gaze met your eyes. A warm flush over your cheeks and your endearing eyes coated with nervousness and reluctance. “You’re gonna do so good, baby. My good girl, I promise.”

The praise was like another wave coursing through your body, heading straight for your center. Your fingers went to the elastic band of his boxers, working it off of his body and tossing it somewhere behind you, as you swallowed thicky and wrapped your fingers around his hardened length.

He was big, but you already knew that. After countless hours spent on his lap grinding while you two made out, you knew it was going to take a little more time to get him to fit.

A pearl of pre-cum sat at the tip of his cock and it made your mouth water. Without thinking, you went for it, licking the salty bead, swallowing with a satisfied hum as your lips kissed his tip.

“H-holy shit,” Eddie sighed gingerly, keeping his eyes glued to you, watching how you smiled up at him before finally encasing his cock inside of your mouth.

The first contact of your tongue with Eddie’s rock hard length had him gripping the sheets. His knuckles were already turning white while his stomach stiffened in and out, reveling in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

Warming yourself up, you pulled off of his length and veered to alternating between licking long stripes on the underside of his cock to short kitten licks towards his tip, aware of the scratching noises of Eddie nails scouring against his mattress.

You pulled off for a second, “Am I doing good, Eds?” You blinked up at him innocently, hand moving from its own accord from his glistening length to his balls, rolling them in your saliva coated palm.

“Yeah, baby – shit – really good,” Eddie confessed lovingly through harsh breaths.

He got ahold of himself, releasing the bunched up sheets in his hand and letting it fall to your face softly where his thumb stroked the high point of your cheek where your eyes were fixated on his while your hands continued to work, “So fucking good, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Your voice dripping with sweetness so much so that it made his heart swell being so enraptured by you.

Your lips encased his cock again, bobbing your head up and down his length getting a rhythm going as your fingers worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His finger tips fell from your cheek and instead, enmeshed themselves in your hair, not gripping too hard or too soft, but just enough the guide and encourage you.

“Such a good girl,” you heard him coo underneath his breath, and you looked up to see his eyes closed, and he continued, “Such a good girl, baby.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, humming at the praise causing shockwaves to bounce off his cock, while one of your hands trailed down your own body and in between your thighs. Fingers dipping beneath the lace of your thong and meeting the wetness and warmth that had been pooling since you and Eddie had begun making out.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered more praises, “Your lips feel fuckin’ heavenly.”

You continued your movement—mouth bringing Eddie pleasure while your fingers rubbed your clit, searching for your own relief. You were surrounded by everything, Eddie. Your senses overload with his touch, his scent, his taste—everything so fucking intoxicating.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Eddie hissed, voice deliciously deep. Your eyes opened, peering up at him to his sights not trained on your mouth or fist wrapped around his cock, but below you where your other hand was deep inside your panties and fingers stalled against your clit.

“I need you, baby, c’mon” He grimaced nonchalantly as he pulled you off his cock.

His member twitching as he watched the trail of spit connect between his length and your lips. Your mouth was coated in your spit and his essence, a combination so sweet that you wished you got to taste all of him. Your red lipstick now a faded mess over your swollen lips.

You caught your breath, using your the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness before plopping a final kiss to the tip of Eddie’s cock, just before he groaned and lifted you up off the floor and to the bed to join him.

“You were going to make me cum y’know that?” He told you, letting his lips briefly meet yours before pulling away.

You smirked, fingers tracing his jawline as you whispered, “Will you cum in my mouth next time?”

He pressed his eyes shut. You were a dream come fucking true, “Whatever you want, doll.”

“Want you to fuck me right now…please?”

His eyes opened, glancing down as he watched how desperately your core grounded against his thigh. He could feel your wetness leaving a sweet trail behind on his skin as the flimsy lace shifted with every thrust and twist of your hips.

Eddie’s hands came to still your movement, squeezing your waist as he moved you to lay flat on his bed and he stayed at your side, “Gotta get you ready first, sweets.”

You whined, forehead pressed together as your eyes glazed over, “But—but I’m really turned on, Eddie and I need to feel you inside me so bad, please, I swear I can—”

Startled by your rapid speech and the way your body continued to writhe, he eased you instantly, “Shhh, shhh, calm down baby,” One of his hands smoothed out the hair on your head, and his lips caught your lips gently, “Y’gotta relax, baby, I don’t want to hurt you. Trust me ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

“O-Okay…I trust you, I’m sorry.” You replied, biting your lip embarrassingly until Eddie shook his head, kissing the top of your forehead and shooting you a reassuring look.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” His hands caressed down your body, until they got to your thong, toying with the lace, teasingly, “You’re just a little work up, right sugar? Just want me to satiate your needs?”

Eddie slowly pulled the material down your legs and off your ankles, humming as he let it drop. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Your legs instantly parted for him, letting your head relax against his pillows. You could feel his fingertips kneading your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to your heat. You could have just canted your hips up to finally get the craving you’d been needing, but you wanted to be good for him—Eddie’s good girl.

And your patience seemed to pay off because the second his fingers ran over your soaking folds, you moaned loudly, indulging in every single bit of pleasure that he was bringing you.

“So fucking wet, baby. Who made you like this? Can you tell me, baby? Pretty please?”

His voice was condescendingly hot, and you were pretty sure it was a flood down there with each word that left his mouth, “You! You…Eddie, you made me — ohmygod — made me this wet.”

A short chuckle left his mouth as he finally let one of his fingers slip inside of you while he thumbed your clit. His single finger was able to reach a depth of you that your tiny ones never got to. And he was insanely quick to learn how you liked it, hooking in and pulling your pleasure like it was nothing as he worked another digit in deeply.

“Oh god, Eds,” you moaned, starting to wriggle around the bed, letting your fingers twist in the bedsheets.

“So tight, sweets—gonna fucking. ruin. me.” he whispered.

Hovering over your shaking body and nipping at the curve of your shoulder, he continued, “Thought about this sweet pussy for so long. Have you been thinking of my cock deep inside you, baby?”

“Y-yes.” You gasped when his fingers began to fuck you harder, hitting your g-spot with every single push.

“How long, baby? Tell me how long you’ve been wanting me inside of you.” he continued.

Your pussy clenched at his fingers, and he started to move them faster. Pushing deeper into you, fingers pushing down, seeking, “Since prom! Wanted you to f-fuck me, so bad.”

“You should have told me, doll.” He voice low in your ear as he nipped the side of your neck, holding you as you began to tremble.“You know I would have taken such good care of you.”

You were positive that if you would have told Eddie you wanted him to fuck you on the prom night when you two had met that he would have rocked your world. You wished you did. But the wait was worth it, because after so much longing and dreaming about this moment, it was so much sweeter, dirtier, and hotter than you could have ever imagined.

“B-baby,” you cried out, hands clutching at the covers as your legs shook, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Good girl,” he encouraged, sitting upright as his fingers continued their onslaught, “Cum for me, doll”

“Eddie!” you wailed, pussy pulsing around his fingers, the wetness of your orgasm coating his digits as he let you ride out your high.

A soft chuckle left his lips as his free hand smoothed over your stomach, feeling the twitching of your body as you came down from your orgasm. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you, while whispering soft words to ease the emptiness you desperately wanted him to fill back up, “Gotta taste this sweet pussy.”

You cracked your eyes open from the stellar haze, a blurred image of him sucking your juices off his fingers before it cleared up, making you moan once again, making grabby hands at his thigh which signalled him in for a longing kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, something so vulgar, but you wanted more.

“Will you fuck me now, Eds? Pretty please?” You whimpered against his lips.

He nodded, kissing your lips again, “What are you comfortable with baby? I can be on top if you want.”

You swallowed thickly, partly to get rid of the dryness in your throat from the moaning, but also because you wanted to try something with him that you’d never tried before, “C-can I be on top? I’ve never done it…but—but you can be on top if you—”

His lips shut you up, as he moved back to press his back against the pillows and headboard, dragging you with him. You were now poising over his lap before he pulled away, letting you catch your breath from the suddenness, “I’ll guide you, doll, and if you want to switch just let me know alright? Don’t hesitate.”

His voice was reassuring, letting you know that there was nothing to be nervous or scared about when it came to you, him, and sex. That he would do anything to make sure you were comfortable first and that pleasing you was his number one priority. You were pretty sure you could cum again just at the thought of how sweet he was.

“Okay,” You smiled slightly, letting your hands grip at his shoulders as you lowered yourself, first letting your wetness gliding over his cock which had the both of you squeezing each other’s skin and moaning his and your name.

“Nice and slow, sweetheart.” He whispered, watching as you decided to reach back to guide his tip over your entrance. His fingertips never left your waist as he hummed and nodded approvingly, as you gradually lowered yourself inch by inch slowly and steadily.

It was taking everything in him not to squeeze your hips too hard, not wanting to hurt you or bruise up your skin, but your tightness just encased him in a way that was earth shatteringly divine. He hissed, keeping his eyes open to watch yours flutter close as soft whimpers and moans escaped your mouth.

“Good girl, baby, taking me so — fucking, hell — taking me so good. Such a pretty girl, taking my cock.” He groaned, clenching your hips as his breath hastened with every pulse your pussy made around him.

“So deep…you’re so big inside me, E-Eds.” You opened your eyes looking down, surprised to see that there was still a few inches of him that you had left to take.

He was so big…a little too big, but you wanted all of him. Every single inch you could get.

“Will you hold my hands, babe?” You sighed desperately let your hands fall from his shoulders, relying on your knees to keep you up as you needed to feel him holding you closer.

He murmured lovingly, withdrawing his hands from your waist and intertwine his fingers with yours, “Better, sweets?”

“Uh huh, much better,” you whispered, finding the confidence to take the rest of him, shutting your eyes as you felt so full with every inch “Oh fuck, it feels amazing.”

“For me, too,” Eddie managed through deep breaths and resisting the urge to thrust up into you, knowing this was about you, “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby…”

Your head was spinning from the fullness and you were sure if you pressed down on your belly you could feel just how deep he was inside of you. The sense of euphoria already was seething in your bloodstream and you were sure Eddie was about to take you to another level of high. You needed a moment to stay there, get used to the way he stretched you open because before you knew it, the pleasure was going to be too much for you to handle on your own.

“L-Like this?” You found it in you to open your eyes to meet his, filled with just the same amount of lust and desire, if not more.

Your hips moved against his, differentiating among grinding to shallow movements of up and down, the tip of his cock kissing the spot inside of you that had you mewling and moaning.

“Just like that, doll.” His lips jerked forward, enclosing them around your nipple, biting and flicking the sensitive buds that got you moving a bit faster—more of his length leaving your entrance before you slammed back down with a high-pitched moan, “Doing so good baby, like a goddamn angel.”

“Oh, my god!” You threw your head back and arching your back as the pleasure became more and more intense with each bounce.

You were a sight for sore eyes—his eyes only.

Your tits moved up and down with your bouncing. Your chest and neck were covered in his purplish-blue love bites. Your hair was a tousled, gorgeous mess from where his fingers were tangled only minutes ago. Your legs were shaking on either side of him, but your pace never let up. Your stomached bulged with the intrusion of his length every time you sat flush with his cock deep inside of you. Your fingers tightened against his. And your mouth, letting out the unholy heavenly sounds of an angel sent from above just for him.

“Perfect fucking pussy, baby,” He muttered fervently, feeling every flutter you let out around his painfully hard cock. Everything about you was fucking perfect, “This pussy was made for me sweets, just for me. S’fucking tight and sweet.”

The dirty words only spurred your hips to move faster, wanting and needing to feel him deeper, to bring the both of you pleasure. But you were starting to get overwhelmed. His happy trail, rubbing against your clit, heightening your pleasure. His heavy balls slapping your ass every time your ass met his thighs. It was so good, but almost too good that you couldn’t get a hold of it.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of you, sweat glistening over your body as the moon shone in and illuminated every inch of your skin. You were already so fucked out, and he could tell just by the way your body began to fall limp and your bouncing faltered every so often. The hold you had on his fingers loosened up, and he knew from he tell-tale signs that he was going to need to take over.

“Fuck! P-please, Eds…give it t-to me, please,” The low whine erupted from your mouth as you fell forward, forehead resting against his while your arms wrapped around his neck, needing his body closer than ever.

He didn’t hesitate, nodding against you, as his arms wrapped around his body and finally he thrusted up into you, “I got you, baby. Just relax and take it.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

From this position and with Eddie in charge, he was able to get deeper, hitting the spot inside of you over and over again, as you shut your eyes tightly and bit your lip with a strained squeal, leaving you. Eddie’s breath fanned over your face, praises directly spoken to you, so sweet and obscene, coming from the only man who could do and give it to you right.

“Just like that! Please don’t stop, Eds… right there!” You stuffed your face into his neck, crying out in pleasure with your fingers pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck ever so slightly, trying not to hurt him.

“Not gonna stop, baby.” He guaranteed you, groaning as he gripped your ass in his hands, pounding you harder and deeper as your moans in his ears fueled him further, “Not gonna stop until you're cumming around me.”

It was so much better with Eddie in control, not that you didn’t like being in control of your movements, but Eddie just knew. Knew exactly how to get you shaking and panting without even trying too hard. And you could tell he was putting you first, rutting into with slow and deep thrusts a contrast between your fast and rhythmic bounces.

“That’s the spot baby?” he buzzed, nipping at your earlobe, easily finding the little spot that reduced you to shambles. He pushed his cock further, holding his breath, the pulsing and writhing of your body nearly pushing him over the edge. But you came first—always.

One of his hands left your skin to trail up your spine, tangling in your hair to pull you away from the crook of his neck to get you to meet his eyes. Yours were a mix of cloudy and emblazoned at the same time, under the spell of everything that Eddie was.

“Awww sweetheart,” He cooed lowly, licking his lips at the sight of your fucked out self, “You close, doll? I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“Mhmm…” You cried out, knitting your brows in concentration as you focused on the feeling of your high teetering closer with every single breath you took, trying to ground yourself, “So close, Eddie…m’close p-please let me cum. P-please, baby.”

You were more than willing to beg, wanting nothing more than to let Eddie control every ounce of your pleasure. And, Eddie, thought your begging was out of this world, something that could make him burst right now, but he didn’t want you to beg. At least not tonight.

“Don’t have to beg for it baby, do it for me, please?” He pushed his forehead forward to meet his, staring deeply into your ocean of colors, he could practically see the fireworks erupting and short circuiting as you moaned noisily, “Let me see you cum, sweetheart…be a good girl and let go.”

And that was all it took for you to cum, wailing and moaning as you unraveled, and your orgasm hitting you so hard and fast, you could almost feel your whole body heating up and energy draining with each wave of pleasure that burst through you. Eddie’s thrusts were never stopping, reducing you to a slumped, eyes rolled back soul as you let the feeling eat you up whole.

“Motherfucker, m’close doll,” Eddie growled as you continued to squeeze down on his cock, pussy clenching over and over again as you took a shaky breath, wanting him to cum for you—to feel the same high he made you feel.

Your eyes fluttered close for a moment, voices in your head telling you to focus, to get Eddie there, “P-please, Eddie, want you to cum so bad.”

Finally, you snapped them open, meeting his lips with a tantalizing, searing kiss, biting his delicate skin, just enough to make the hair on his arms and neck stand up. You were intoxicated on pleasure—the feeling coursing through your veins and you were pretty sure you were more than able to release again.

Anything for Eddie.

You breathed slowly, taking in the view of Eddie’s forehead and brows scrunched in concentration, causing a gasp to rip out of you every so often as his length hit the deepest part of you, “I-I was so good for you, Eds, don’t you think I deserve your cum?”

“S-shit, you can’t say that kind of stuff, doll,” He panted, shaking his head, trying to get ahold on himself, as perspiration beaded on his forehead, his limbs quaking as he was getting closer and closer guided by your voice.

“Cum inside me, Eddie” you panted nodding your head to give him the permission, “Want every. drop. inside of me…please baby.”

Your fingers rattling as they combed through his hair tugging him in to close the space for a kiss. He grunted in surprise at the fervency shown by your lips and tongue. Your legs used whatever energy they had left, meeting his thrusts from below you and ignoring the burn in your bones.

Eddie moans intertwined with your own sounds as he felt your walls convulsing around him once more. His length burrowed deep inside you with shallow thrusts and he knew the both of you were near again. “Cum with me, doll…one more sweetheart.”

And that was all it took—your moans being swallowed up in his mouth as reached your third earth shattering high of the night with your man nestled deep inside you.

Eddie’s cock twitching and then spurting once, twice, three times inside of you as his warm cum spread deep within you as you sighed, with him muttering profanity against your lips, “Sweetheart, you’re so perfect….so fucking perfect princess…”

His bedroom now filled with the sounds of both of your heavy breathing and the light wind brushing in through his windows. Sticky skin clung to each other as you basked in the moment in each other arms where you had collapsed into his chest, his rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears.

His warm hands dancing around your bare back, massaging and kissing your skin with sweet touches to bring you back down. But you knew that when you were with Eddie, he took you to another universe, one that you never wanted to leave.

Your own fingers felt his erratic pulse calming down where you traced the veins on his neck. His hair was a poofy mess from the humidity, but you were sure you looked just about the same, even more so, as your eyes adjusted and saw your lipstick mark peppering all over his skin.

“You’ve got lipstick all over you,” you giggled softly, brushing your thumb over the mark that you left on his collarbone.

He chuckled, bringing his palms to your face, tilting yours to face his, “Leave ‘em, I want them to know who I belong to.”

Your heart skipped a beat, remembering that Eddie was finally yours, not that he never was, but it just felt sweeter this way. “I’m yours too, Eddie.”

The two of you smiled, leaning in to share a more intimate and slowed kiss, knowing that there wasn’t anything or anyone that would come between you and this moment. When he pulled away, his fingertips nudged you back a bit, eyes trailing along your naked chest where he traced around the marks he left.

“I’m sure they’ll all know,” He commented with a smirk, making your eyes playfully roll as you settled your head back on his chest.

You two laid like that for a few more minutes. His member relaxing inside of you, making you feel like a furnace surrounded by him, the best feeling in the world, in your opinion.

“Should we shower in a little?” You suggested, voice soft as your eyes began to droop down slowly.

Eddie hummed, peering down at your sleepy state, brushing your messy hair down your back with his fingers, “In a little, doll…close your eyes and rest a bit.”

“Hmmm, okay….thank you, baby.” You whispered, letting yourself drift off to peace in his arms, a hazy dream already settling in as you felt a warm kiss placed on the top of your forehead.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He grinned, propping his chin on the top of your head as he closed his own eyes, reeling in everything that was you and perfection all in one.

With your bodies entwined you both knew that this was something special. You and Eddie were right where you both belonged. In each other’s lives and one another’s arms—a sense of completeness that would only get better and stronger with time, something that would never go out of style.

A/N: ummm soooo did y'all survive that???? LOL. credits to taylor swift for writing this fucking masterpiece of "style" that I want to inject into my bloodstream. at first this was not supposed to have smut but i said fuck it and went with it!!!! anyways, reblogs, likes, tags, and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope you all like this 💘✨💌 if you want to be added to my tag list, leave a comment and let me know!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @fckthtgetmoney @loving-and-dreaming

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