#well that’s a lie kind of. I knew it was influencing it but going into this weekend I thought I’d be exhausted at the end of it but it has

[artificial-condition]

Such a good day. Got to sleep in then leisurely ate breakfast, cleaned up some. Gave myself a manicure (been wanting to do that for months) and then played a video game with my sister for a couple hours. After that I made some bread and jam and finished up the food for dinner for Mother’s Day. Everyone really enjoyed the food and I got to give my mom her gift I’ve had for a while (one of those cups with a strainer and lid for loose leaf tea). Packed my lunch for tomorrow and I’m feeling relaxed on a Sunday night for the first time in months :)

[misserabella]

perfect sin

innocent sub virgin! abby x dom fem! reader

synopsis;; Abby was a good girl. Was…

cw;; use of y/n (sorry but it was needed), sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent abby, references to the bible (algo unholy use of abby’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, loss of virginity, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, scissoring, dumbification, masturbation (both receiving), oral sex (a receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Abby Anderson was a good girl. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t do drugs kind of good girl. And… she was really religious. She had always been. She accompanied her father to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based her reading on her worn bible before going to bed every night. At her eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing she had ever done was lie, and she made sure to swear that she’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since she was, once again, lying about the fact that she’ll be staying over one of her church friends’ when she was planted in front of the biggest party she had ever seen —the only one she had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Abby was a good girl, her best friend, Ellie Williams, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Abby seemed like a complete church girl with her button shirt tucked on her caqui pants and her school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —She looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of hers…— Ellie looked like a rockstar, with her smeared eyeliner, short auburn hair, black clothes and silver rings…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Ellie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Abby was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Ellie’s head when her mind convinced her on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting her out of trouble. They worked.

Ellie loved to hang out with Abby, always trying to make her do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And she thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Abby had acceded to go with her to one of those crazy parties she always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Abby didn't like it. She couldn’t help scrunching her nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making her glasses slightly fog.

Ellie laughed at her face, pushing one of her arms over her best friend’s shoulders and dragging her further inside with her. Abby felt as if the devil had took a hold on her and dragged her to Hell.

"Yo Ellie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Ellie was that she was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at her as the two of them passed by. Probably due to her incredible stash and weed. But either ways, she had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached her smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Abby wondered, to what Ellie rolled her green eyes.

"Meth, Bibi. Meth." the blonde scrunched her face. She was well aware that Ellie was a dealer, she wasn't that stupid, she just didn't know much about it. And honestly, she'd like to keep it that way. Of course she was concerned for her best friend's well being, but Ellie had promised him that she wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was her way to go. "That shit is selling like Tommy’s beers." she shook her head, pulling her down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Ellie!!!" both of them turned to a brunette smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Dina!" she seemed just as pleased to see the brown eyed as her to see her. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around her shoulder fell when she stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Ellie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." she shook her head. "I like her." that only made Dina laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Abby's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church girl's face...Is this Bibi?" Ellie smiled as she nodded, surrounding her friend's shoulder with her arm again before pulling her flush to her side.

"In holy spirit." Abby pushed her hand away when her fingers dug on her hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Dina." she said, offering one of her warm hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving her a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" she felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Abby’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Abby thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Dina! Dina’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Abby’s eyes met a dark haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Dina chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Lily!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Ellie laugh.

Abby looked a little bit shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Dina is gay. She’s dating Lily too.” Abby seemed amused by her reaction, which quickly faded. Was she surprised? Yeah, she was surely not expecting it. In her church everyone was so… straight. Was she disgusted? Absolutely not. She didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Abby was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do. Also, she knew her best friend liked girls, and she didn’t love her any less for it.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Abby’s eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, she met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From her position she could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Abby felt like she couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… She thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Ellie Williams?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the auburn haired girl beside her, who shrugged as she stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Abby’s heart tightened on her chest, your smile warming her up and making her feel all fuzzy inside. She was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” she pressed a hand to her chest, honored. “And who is pretty girl over there?” Abby felt like fainting when your eyes met her body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Ellie pulled her by her arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have her adjusting her crooked glasses. “Is Abby. Abby Anderson. My girl.” a smile crept on her lips when she recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned her up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like her?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore her and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Abby.” her name rolling on your tongue made her heart fall to the pitch of her stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” she coughed, clearing her throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. Her eyes darted elsewhere as she awkwardly scratched her neck.

“Thank you.” she stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as she realized what she had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although she didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Ellie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to her. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Abby’s first party.” she said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” she put extra emphasis to those last two words, which only made you smile harder and Ellie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church girl.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at her, and her whole body flushed, making you chuckle. Why was this happening to her? She’d never felt like this… Not even with Owen, who had been dating her for a couple of weeks before she told him she couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t sure she even liked him. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him. And now you were making her blush that easily? Making butterflies come up her stomach?

“You. Stop it.” Ellie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Ellie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” she teased you as she extracted from one of her front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” she inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” she laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty girl.” you called for Abby, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” she quickly pushed one of her hands on her front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. Her eyes widened when you pulled her from her arm so she would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on her own as you took her bible from her hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on her own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. She was stunned, and Ellie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Abby saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if she knew that she wouldn’t think it, she still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty girl? Want to give it a try?” she quickly shook his head.

“No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Ellie, the girls and you laugh. She looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” she remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Ellie chuckled beside you.

“Abby is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed… Never fucked.” Abby’s cheeks flushed red as she gave Ellie a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were wide open. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Ellie Williams… Isn’t that funny?” the green eyed seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a whore.” her mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” once again she remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between her teeth. “Right?”

Ellie seemed interested too, as well as Dina and Lily.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when she didn’t correct you. Ellie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Dina muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little rubbing?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Abby’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” she groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on her. She felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Abby?” you said, making her stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” she felt even the tips of her ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your father has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Ellie inquired, to what Abby nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Dina said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” she stiffened when your hand fell on her knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on her skin. She gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab her attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty girl?” she was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when her eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Abby.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Ellie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Abby. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Abby was absolutely lost.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the brunette was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of tequila that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of tequila. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. She was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” she nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in her stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and the the salt, all while keeping your eyes on her own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the blonde, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through her veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty girl.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to her with a smirk. Her cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, she took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by her decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt her warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since she knew that if she did she’d repent— poured the liquor in her mouth, almost gagging as the tequila hit her tongue, what made her nose scrunch. The turn on her stomach and the burning of her throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited her. She knew that drinking was not something forbidden, she had just been too scared of her dad’s disappointment if she ever tried it, so she never did. “So?” everyone stared at her, expecting to know her thought about her first time dealing with alcohol.

Abby coughed, squinting a little bit as her hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you bursted out in laughter, she could have said anything, and yet she went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Abby seemed confused as she frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Ellie was quick to pull a little bag from her pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck, I’d eat you out right now if there weren’t so many people here.” Ellie chuckled at your words, and Abby only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in her stomach that pleaded her to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth. And maybe she should be scared, of feeling all of this for a girl. But somehow she wasn’t. She just needed to learn more. Know more. Feel more.

“I don’t think that…” she started, but you only looked at her and she was a goner, the words dying in her throat. Her best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Abby the saint Anderson was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. She didn’t know if she should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Abby was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. She felt that tingling on her pussy, although she tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Dina handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Abby looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Williams, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” she let out a laughter as she reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed her.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Abby’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. “What do you say pretty girl? Are you in?” you offered her the blunt, and after a little hesitation, her fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that she had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” she seemed scared of it, holding it away from her as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to her ‘till your thigh was flushed against hers, fingers around her wrist to guide the joint to her lips. She felt her heart skip a beat when her eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to her own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” she was following your words and doing as you told her. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe she was going too fast, since she started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give her back pats.

“Are you okay?” Lily inquired her, handing her a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw she’s fine…” Dina laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Ellie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

She shivered when your fingers dug in her hair, comforting her as her coughing ceased. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” she nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” she looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged her, taking the blunt from her hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. Her breath hitched when the hand that stood in her hair pushed her near your face. Her eyes widened and her pulse spiked up when your breath hit her own, the weed and alcohol on it making her feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from hers was. She really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to her cheek, thumb pressing against her bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” she was quick to do what you’ve asked her to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” she nodded, and as you blew the smoke on her lips, she took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing her hold her breath as much as she could —like she had seen you do—. “Good girl.” she almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on her. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made her shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” she shook her head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged her scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Dina was the first to break the silence, making Lily and Ellie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the auburn haired said, fanning her face and making your eyes practically send her daggers. “Just saying…” she rose her hands in surrender.

Abby was feeling her limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty girl?” she looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Feels amazing.” she muttered, and all of you laughed at her reaction.

“Ellie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked her, but she just seemed happy to see her best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

She was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked her about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. She understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. She tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” she announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Abby with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Lily and Dina were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Lily needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Ellie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Abby were left behind. Alone. She seemed to realize too, since her body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty girl.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. She nodded, trying not to show the way her hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: She was high. She was excited about her first party. She was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and she was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though her hair, in the way your eyes never left her.

“Nothing.” she sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face her.

“Tell me, Abby…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on her hair sliding down to her neck, where you connected the moles on her skin. Her eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, she felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give her a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against hers as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on her face. She was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against her making her pussy throb on her pants. She looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although her eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against her cheek, leading her back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Abby…” you muttered, your breath colliding with her own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no one has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the blonde stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering blue shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty girl.” she whined as your lips brushed against hers, teasing her, pulling her in to the sin she had learned to avoid. The sin she had made herself avoid.

“y/n…” she let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as she leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook her body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and she whined when you pulled from her hair to keep her from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Abby?” you inquired. You liked the girl, you wanted the girl, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

She nodded, tongue sneaking in between her lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making her cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” she whimpered, eyes on your red lips as her own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through her veins, or the fact that she wanted it, you, so bad she felt like dying…

“Please, kiss me…” she whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when her eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the blue of them, the need… You were quick to pull her in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met hers. God, you’d been wanting to do that since she had stepped in the room. Your core ached when she moaned in your mouth, her hands shaking at her sides as her eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over her lap, straddling her muscled thighs and making her eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Abby, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on her neck, making her sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide hers to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing her before you would lean in once again to meet her lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” she was shaking when you kissed her again, breath hitching and a moan leaving her lips when you started to rock your hips against her. She was already wet. So wet… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against her mouth, your thumb pulling on her bottom lip. She did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good girl…” she moaned when your tongue slid right inside her mouth, swirling around hers. Her fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on her hair. Her jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of her pants and against her aching cunt, which throbbed.

When you pulled away, her glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” she whimpered as your lips trailed down her throat, harshly sucking hickeys on her skin and hands bucking you against her. She felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you on top of her, dry humping her, kissing her… She never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off her lap —hearing a whine fall from her lips— and pulling from her hand so she could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag her upstairs, getting her in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss her again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on her lips made you want to devour her.

She opened her mouth for you, just like you had taught her, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led her towards the bed. She let out a surprised gasp when you pushed her on the chest, making her sit down. “What… What are you doing?” she inquired you as you kneeled in front of her, breathing strained and lips swollen. Her blonde hair was all messed up, as well as her clothes, and her pussy hurt so much under her pants she couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing her, rubbing against her and making it better. She was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing her thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at her as you unbuckled her pants and pushed them down her thighs along with her underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” she tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left her mind when you pushed her legs apart and left a little peck on her clit. Her pussy was pretty, blonde mound and pinkish dripping folds soaked for you. You smiled when she let out a load moan at the fat strip you made up her pussy, taking in all her slick, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at her moans and whines.

“Such a pretty girl with a pretty pussy...” she whimpered when you licked clean her arousal off her slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” she nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from her hole to her clit before sucking it inside your mouth. You moaned against her, ‘cause she tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your face on her pussy so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let her go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would circle her entrance, making her thighs clench and a moan leave her lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” she whimpered when your mouth went back to her, slowly pushing one finger into her tight walls. Her fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum against her clit and her whine. She felt like chocking with her spit. She has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. She was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there she was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

She seemed extremely sensitive on her clit, where you teased her with your tongue, making her moan and whimper as you curled your finger against her g spot. There was this pressure, this heat building up in her lower stomach that made her head feel all fuzzy and her limbs weak as you pushed your ring finger inside.

“y/n…” she whined, her pussy throbbing around your fingers and fully leaking. You could feel she was about to cum, and its speed and her poor stamina only made her cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired her, entertained by her slack jaw and glossed over eyes. She was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how she’d react once she was thrusting against you, maybe fucking into you with a fake cock… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

She shook her head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” she begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking her g spot. “Feels so good, so good, please…” she was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that she was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto her pussy and clit and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. She was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt her and led her away from God. And honestly? She’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with her clit in your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at her as you sucked her clean with all your red lipstick smeared all over her pussy and folds… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. She was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had her shaking on her spot that she started to moan and whimper more loudly.

“Please, please, please…” she didn’t even know what she was begging for, her strained pleading making you start to lap at her faster, sucking on her clit harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” she was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of her first orgasm, which was about to crumble her to pieces.

“Come on pretty girl, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking her clit, fucking her with your fingers. That’s all it took for her to fill your mouth up. Her orgasm hit her like a wave. So hard she was gasping for air, as if she were drowning under water. Her sight went completely white, mind blank and ears ringing as her body relaxed under your touch. When she came back from it, you were cleaning her up with your tongue, swallowing her warm cum and caressing her thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste, sucking your fingers clean. “You okay, baby?” you inquired her as her eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. She shivered when your lips latched to the skin of her hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making her fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” she whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up her lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of her shirt as you sat back down on her lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on her face and her dizzy nodding. “Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased her, making her moan as your hands sneaked up her unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on her ear, nibbling on her jaw and making her gasp, her pussy was already getting wet again. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against her lips when she nodded. And she did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside her mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against her own. She was shaking when you pushed her hands from your waist to your breasts, she groaned when you squeezed hers to make a domino effect and urge her to touch you just how she wanted. “Tell me Abby, what is it that you want?” you inquired her as your breaths mixed, sucking on her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on her neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” she breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. She wanted to make you feel the way you had made her feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at her words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing her messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making her take a shaky breath as she nodded. “You wanna make me feel good, Abby?” her skin grew on goosebumps when you guided one of her hands down your body, ‘till her fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when her palm cupped your clothed cunt. She felt her heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” she nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick her lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good girl…” you couldn’t know if she had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for her or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when she stared at you like that.

She felt like fainting when she felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on her fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed her hand upwards, ‘till her fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when she did, what only made her crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against her touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on her chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on her neck when you pushed her hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Abby was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when she first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of her fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Abby knew she was a goner when she found herself swearing. And she didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around her finger when you pulled her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as she started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on her touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Abby.” you gasped out, and she followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing her, and begging her for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, leaking in between her thighs as she took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god she would die to worship.

And she surely felt like cumming when her fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. She wanted more. More of you falling apart. So she curved them once again, and again, and… But before she could know it, she found herself being pushed and laying on her back. “Wh—What?” she tried and ask. Had she done something wrong? If she had… But her voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and she felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like she had ever seen tits before, but if she had she would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… She just wanted to suck and bite on them.

She moaned when you rocked against her hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against her thigh. “y/n… Shit.” she could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against her.

“Too much, pretty girl?” you smirked, grabbing her wrists to lead her hands towards your breasts. Her big hands made you sigh when her fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” she breathed out when you leaned in to kiss her neck and chest over her bra, marking her all up as she whimpered below you, loosing herself on the way your hips thrusted against her, your lips on her skin, your warm own in between her fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against her skin once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating her skin as you slid against her. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting her glossy and dazed ones. “More…” she whimpered, needing more, more of you. She noticed the hesitation in your eyes before her lips parted once again, “Please…” her hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing her so deep and wet that she was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Abby?” you teased, pressing down against her and making her moan as she nodded. You moved in between her thighs sliding your fingers in between her lips.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled her eyes at the feeling of your pussy lining up with hers, mound barely touching, pressing down, teasing her with every false thrust of your hips. She needed to make you cum, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against her lips before you’d push one of your thighs on her lap to push yourself against her, moaning at the feeling. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on her abs, moaning. “Shit, so wet…”

“Fuck.” she breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so warm, so wet… Her fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when your clits met. By the way she was throbbing against you and how her breath sounded strained, you knew she was trying her best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. A moan left her lips when your started to slightly grind against her, you biting down on your lip as she whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only your lips touched before slamming your hips back down onto her heat, moaning when your clits met and hearing her groan. “You like that, pretty girl? Your virgin pussy seems to, dripping like crazy for me.” you teased her, chuckling slightly when she nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself against her like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ she was a babbling mess as she watched you thrust against her sopping cunt —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at her messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when she let out a whimper as you fucked her harder, kissing her neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over her body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every thrust, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against her ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on hers, the way your warm and soaked pussy slid against hers… It was too much, too much that the blonde could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

She whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your elbows in front of her under her confused gaze. You gave her a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing wet hole show only for her. Her dilated pupils latched onto it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. She felt her mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good girl with me, Abby.” she was quick to sit up and crawl her way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged her mind. She was even quicker to discard her glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when she pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing her pussy against you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on her broad shoulder blades as she started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on her ear. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing her grunt.

She was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on her hair and her lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as she moaned against it. “Fuck Abby, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. She was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of her hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as her hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when she groaned at your wetness, the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good girl anymore, huh?” she whined when your fingers tugged harder on her hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as her eyes squeezed shut. She was in a daze. “You like that pretty girl?” you teased, moaning when her grip around your neck tightened and she gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for her to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your clit making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls clench. “Shit, y/n…” her lips parted in a whimper, her hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of those pretty moans of yours… She dragged you against her pussy with every push of her hips, pulling from you to reach your highs.

“Abby i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your pussy, shit.” you were choking on your words.

Your moans got muffled when she kissed you, her tongue pushing inside your mouth as her thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming on your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” she could feel yourself throbbing against her, your orgasm approaching right beside hers. She wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to her face, your thumb pressing against her bottom lip as she rested her forehead against yours, her breath fanning over your face. “Cum on me, please Abby, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. Her eyebrows knitted together as her lips fell on a moan, pussy throbbing as she thrusted against you one, two, three more times before painting your folds in white, making you moan at the feeling. Droplets of her cum were falling on your thighs and the sheets every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following hers as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” she begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

She groaned when she felt your cum mixing with her own, coating her pussy.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away, and she didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Abby understood. She finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Abby was sure to had found hers in you.

[kasagia]

Dancing With The Devil

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: Your whole life revolved around court intrigues, gaining influence, and extracting the darkest secrets from important nobility. As a woman, there wasn't much you could do or count on. Unless you provide yourself with status and position through a good marriage. You've made your life perfect. You had a complete plan and vision for your future—even after the unexpected loss of your fiancé, you managed to rise up and find another good match—until the Na-Baron decided to interfere with it and ruin everything you had been working for. You were about to find out for yourself that dancing with the devil never led to anything good. Even if the consequences of this come after some time... Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; Inspired by: Bridgerton and "Would've, could've, should've" - Taylor Swift Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

"What do you mean by saying that Paul Atreides is dead?"

"Exactly that." Your mother replies with her typical calm, adjusting the crown on her head in the mirror. "He and his family went on a diplomatic mission to Arrakis. They were attacked by… a group of rebels. More specifically, it was probably Sardaukar, but we all know who benefited more from the death of the Atreides." You shudder at the mere mention of the Harkonnens. However, you still can't get over the shock of the revelation you've just heard.

"It is impossible. They couldn't kill them all, after all... what about Caladan? And the plans of the Bene Gesserit? The Emperor would never…"

"The Emperor is not the same man you knew. As he grows older, he grows not in wisdom but in fear. He is more afraid of maintaining his throne than of the good of the empire. And, as we all know, Paul was his most likely successor. So he killed him before he could kill him." She explains this to you, making sure that her appearance is impeccable. She turns from the mirror and nods to the maid, ordering her to give her a coat in your family's colours and embroidered with the decorations and symbols of your house.

"I... are you just trying to tell me that I don't have a fiancé?"

"Unless you want to marry his corpse, yes, that's what I am trying to say to you from the beginning." Your mother snorts in amusement, watching you as you are still in shock, trying to process this unexpected, terrible news. The shock in you slowly gives way to anger. This wasn't how things were supposed to look.

"Mother, you should know how tragic this situation is. After all, the season is almost over; when will I get any suitors? Should I be without any for a year? And then another one? You know perfectly well that most of the descendants of high families have already announced their courtship. Am I supposed to end up as a spinster?"

"Calm down. The season isn't over yet. Since... Caladan has an unstable political situation, Princess Irulan suggested that we take over the main, final celebrations. All you have to do is dress nicely, present yourself well, and catch whatever poor young men come here." You snort mockingly at her feeble attempts to comfort and reassure you.

"I won't have a better husband than Paul. He was the perfect match! Not ugly, easy to control, filthy rich, only son who was supposed to inherit everything—where will you find me another husband like that?" You ask furiously, more concerned about the consequences of his death for you than the fact that you will never meet your fiancé ever again. You couldn't end up as a spinster. You couldn't marry just anyone, either, or, worse, end up as a mere concubine. You didn't spend all these years beautifying your appearance and studying politics, martial arts, economics, and biological sciences to marry some insignificant idiot from an unknown family and planet.

"It's going to be hard, I won't lie, but we'll get through it. We are Y/L/N. We never give up and always achieve our goals. You're too beautiful, darling, to become a spinster. And too smart to marry some insignificant lord."

"You too were, and yet you ended up with my father."

"I married him out of love and love... love makes us do stupid things. But you are smarter than me. You can do much better, I have no doubt about that. We'll give you a week of mourning before we throw the first party. During this time, we will review... available men. To know who to focus on." You nod, agreeing with her plan. You couldn't immediately rush out to find another suitor when your previous one had just been buried beneath the sands of Arrakis. You had to pretend you were crying for him.

It wasn't like you didn't care about Paul at all. You liked him. He was a good conversation partner and a nobel man. But in this situation, you felt more sorry for yourself. You were left with no fiancé, no suitor, and no other alternative.

And if there was anything worse for a woman in this world than death, it was either infertility or becoming a spinster whom no one paid any attention to. You could have handled every other situation perfectly well, but not such humiliation.

Or at least that's what you thought until you crossed paths with the one and only Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

You stand against the wall, sipping your champagne with probably the sourest expression on your face. The masquerade ball had already started an hour ago and you still couldn't find anyone whose attention you could attract.

You and your mother had looked through... all the possible options, but none of the men who came here were fooled by your sweet swan appearance. And if he did, he proposed after just a few minutes of conversation. You may have been in a desperate situation, but you weren't looking for a desperate man.

Standing against the wall allowed you to take a closer look at the nobles present at the ball. You caught a few rumours and scandalous behaviour—touching too long, stolen kisses, and a few other things—but you didn't feel like thinking about them at all when the vision of your future looked so bleak.

Your bad mood is only fueled by Irulan's presence and how she's clearly having a great time at your funeral. As if she had achieved another one of her many victories. Lucky bitch.

You sigh and place your glass on the tray of a passing servant. You are about to leave the masquerade ball when your attention is caught by a man standing alone on the other side of the room.

His outfit is… unusual. His black coat is finished with sharp metal decorations, making it resemble more of a fancy armour than a classic formal outfit. The black mask completely covers his face and the back of his head, leaving only his full lips and part of his defined jaw to your eyes. 

And you really like those lips. Very much. You decide that today you will test their softness when the stranger's cold blue eyes meet yours. A shiver of excitement runs through you as you imagine the things you could do with this intoxicatingly beautiful man. And maybe it's the alcohol you drank or your pathetic longing to be the centre of someone's attention that makes you feel brave enough to approach him.

As you slowly approach him and look at him closely, you realise what he's disguised as. The black swan. It was so good for you that you decided to be the white one tonight.

However, the man suddenly disappears in the crowd of people. You frown and look around, searching for him, but somehow you can't. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. You freeze when you suddenly feel someone's presence behind you. A shiver of excitement runs down your spine as the man's husky whisper echoes in your ear.

"Looking for someone, my lady?" You turn your head to meet the same icy blue irises up that were watching you from across the room a moment ago.

Goosebumps run through you as his gaze inexplicably hypnotises you. This could be your opportunity; you just had to play your cards well and make him more interested in you. The circumstances and scenery were perfect—downright romantic, like from a book. You just had to make this handsome devil equally enchanted by you. You must have caught his attention if he decided to play with you and chase you to get to you first.

You also need to find out who owns those captivating lips and eyes whose colour rivals the ocean waves. Oh, and how you desperately wanted to immerse yourself in them...

"My lord." You curtsy, turning fully to face him to study him even more carefully. He was tall, with a muscular figure visible under his clothes that you wanted to explore with your fingers. You lick your lips, shifting your gaze back to his, and catch him assessing you with his eyes, just like you had just done with him. "I couldn't help but notice how... coincidentally, we fit together with our choice of outfits."

"Indeed, we do. Although I personally think you would look better in black, little swan." The nickname he gives you and the arrogance in his voice make you snort mockingly, raising an eyebrow at him defiantly as you become even more fascinated by this mysterious man.

"Why is that?"

"You may look like a tiny, innocent bird in this white, pretty dress, but your eyes—your eyes give it all away, my lady. You can try to deceive men with this... undoubtedly beautiful sight for the eyes, but not all of us fall so easily to the false mirage—maybe only lesser men—but you're not desperate enough to seek the attention of a mere duke or count, who would be easily led by you, are you?"

"And who are you to make such bold assumptions?" You ask furiously, glaring at him as he gently strokes the collar of your dress with his fingertip, playing a little with the white feathers that were attached to it. He smirks, his white teeth gleaming dangerously, reminding you of the smile of a wolf before it catches its prey.

"Definitely not a lesser man." He replies, undaunted by your anger. His hand slides from the collar of your dress over your shoulder as he grabs your gloved hand and presses a soft kiss on it, and you can barely keep yourself from closing your eyes and giving in to the pleasant feeling of having his plush, full lips so close and yet so far from your skin. "May I? I believe that this beautiful dress will look better while moving…"

At this point, you should refuse. Thank him for his company and go find a... more suitable one. But you can't deny that he's read you accurately so far and that he's touched a part of you that you haven't shown to anyone. You were too curious to just let him go; you wanted to stay with him longer and see what would come of this acquaintance with him.

So you nod and let him lead you to the dance floor. A few heads turn towards you, but you can't reach anything other than him, and the feeling of his larger hand gently holding yours in a strange way makes your heart flutter slightly.

You feel like he's put a spell on you, and strangely, you don't want to break out of it at all.

His eyes never leave yours. You're almost dizzy from how intensely he's looking at you. He places his hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. He holds you tight enough so that you can feel his touch on you, and it isn't painful for you. He leads you into a dance with incredible grace for a man, spinning you around to the rhythm of the music.

He's so close to you that you can smell his scent, which is as addictive as his burning attention. The smell of anise, musk, and hot spices assaulting your nostrils makes you involuntarily lean towards him, wanting to be as close to him as good manners allow. However, you know that if you spend another few minutes longer in his presence, all your mother's teachings will be forgotten in favour of... getting closer to this compelling man.

"So what do you believe in then? If you don't believe in coincidence? Destiny?" You ask, trying to shake off this strange feeling of loss of control he's giving you.

And you almost fail miserably, barely keeping yourself from blushing as his low chuckle makes you burn even more for him. You had to find some flaw in him—something that would turn you off if you didn't want to lose your mind completely, because for now, everything about this man was sinfully pleasant.

"We create our destiny. Don't you agree?"

"Sometimes things are beyond your control, my lord." You disagree with him, keeping your searching gaze on him as his hands move to your hips.

You bite your bottom lip as he lifts you up in one fluid motion, following the steps of the dance. The ease with which he shifts you and spins you so that your back is against his chest as he sets you down on the floor again makes your cheeks blush as you think of all the ways you could use his large, strong hands. You feel like a horny teenager in her first season. And you don't like it at all.

"And sometimes, all we need to do is take a step and reach out for what is rightfully ours." He whispers in your ear, wrapping his hands around you, never stopping his movements.

You swallow thickly as he places your joined hands on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your bare collarbone. You bite your tongue, trying to hold back a moan when you feel the rough skin of his hands, confirming your suspicions that his toned physique is built from years of training and fighting. This fuels your desire for him even more.

"Possible. But our reputation suffers because of it. You can't escape the eyes of society. No matter how hard you try, my lord." Your eyes fall on the couples dancing around you.

You gasp when he suddenly wraps his arm around your waist and turns you around, forcing you to face him again. You almost bump into his chest, completely unprepared for such a sudden move from him. He gives you a mischievous smirk and a wink, amused at how he managed to catch you off guard and off-balance. You purse your lips, causing his eyes to shift to them.

"Do you know what freedom you can achieve when you throw off the yoke of your reputation? How many opportunities are open to you?" He whispers hoarsely, leaning towards you. You lift your chin, meeting his gaze as your heart beats frantically against your chest. You get the feeling he has in his mind... something much less pure and decent. And you almost trembled in his arms with excitement.

"Do you know how many doors close in front of you? No one wants to associate with a vile person rejected by society."

"Oh, but those nefarious always seem to get their attention, don't you think? They are invited out of sheer curiosity about how they will behave and what exciting and forbidden things they will do. They are the source of the most virulent gossip; you won't deny it, right, little swan?"

"Possible. Are you one of them?" You ask, curious about his identity.

He gives you a mysterious, mocking smirk as he chuckles throatily. He leans down and brushes his lips against your ear. You sigh as his lips press a small kiss to your earlobe, your heart racing as you feel him so close to you. You wait in suspense for what he will do next, completely oblivious to the people around you, who, fortunately, are too busy with themselves to notice what is happening around them. You'd never been so happy about wearing a mask before, even though it was a way to protect your identity and allow yourself... to do a little more in such a public place.

"Oh darling… what if I told you that I'm the worst of them all?" He whispers seductively, biting your ear. You gasp, digging your fingers into his arm, holding on to anything as he plays cruelly with you.

At this point, you should thank him for this dance, turn around, and find another company. But there's something... magnetic about this man that draws you closer and closer to him.

Maybe it's the thrill of the unknown—the excitement of how different this man seems from the rest of the people here. And even though your mind is screaming at you, and rightly so, to back away before you burn yourself with the fire that burns from him, you want to follow him like a moth, desperately wanting to bathe in the glow of these new sensations he is giving you.

So, without thinking about it for a long time, you grab his hand and lead him out of the room. Surprisingly, he obediently follows you, not questioning you as the two of you walk through various corridors. You lead him towards the exit—straight to the palace gardens, where there should be much fewer people who couldn't... overhear you.

You drag him into the maze, taking him to one of the dead ends. Before he can say anything, you lean in and kiss him lustfully. You moan at the feeling of his soft lips caressing yours, and you tighten your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The metal trim of his outfit digs into you, but you ignore the feeling, completely absorbed by the way his tongue slips into your waiting mouth.

Under different circumstances, if it were known to him who you were and there was no mask covering half of your face, you would never have dared to take such a... bold step. But now, with him so close to you and your identity safe under the white feather mask, you moan into his mouth, letting yourself bask in the feeling of desire.

You and Paul... fooled around a few times, but the furthest you went was touching each other. But with this man, the man whose name you didn't know and who was currently sucking the air from your mouth, you felt completely different.

All your nerves were on fire. Every inch of you was begging for his touch and undivided attention. You couldn't help but moan and melt into his hands as he possessively tightened his grip on your hip, pulling you much closer to his body.

Your bodies fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, and you couldn't help but wonder if your souls were also two halves that fit together thoroughly.

Just when you feel like you can't go without air any longer, his mouth stops attacking yours, instead caressing and nipping at the skin of your jaw and moving to your neck.

Suddenly, the corset you're in becomes too tight, and breathing becomes increasingly difficult for you as his lips mark your neck, making your already lust-crazed heart beat faster. You whine, your hands tracing his muscular torso, as you find yourself in extreme conflict. You know you should push him away and that you shouldn't let him mark you so clearly, but on the other hand, he brings you so much pleasure and makes you shiver just from the feeling of his lips on your neck. You dread to think what he would do to you if he moved a little further south of your body—if he kneeled in front of you and did to you things you only read about in the privacy of your chamber.

You quickly cover your mouth with your hand as you are about to scream when his teeth dig into your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a clear mark on you. Your eyes widen in shock when you hear a threatening growl from him. His hand grabs yours tightly, removing it from your mouth, and his icy blue eyes flash with anger, giving you a furious glare.

"Hold back your moans and screams one more time, and I will make sure the people in the palace hear you crying because of me, little swan. And believe me, I can make it only pleasant for me, so don't test my patience and mercy and be a good girl for me." He growls, tightening his grip on your hand that he pinned to the hedge behind you.

He kisses you hard, chastisingly, as he takes a step towards you, closing any space between you. Your breasts rub against his chest as he presses against you, and you think you can feel his hardness through the layers of your clothes.

A short gasp escapes you as his hand travels beneath the layers of your dress. His fingers take their time caressing the skin of your legs, slowly climbing up to where you needed to have him as soon as your eyes fell on him. You decide to compromise with him and pull him into a kiss so as not to attract unwanted attention from any of the guests.

You gasp as his fingers brush against your clothed core. His raspy chuckle as he discovers the undeniable flood between your legs makes you blush with embarrassment and anger. Your breathing quickens as you reach out to grab his cock, squeezing him painfully tight for teasing you. A loud moan leaves his lips swollen from kissing, making you want to extract other, equally temptingly beautiful sounds from him.

But before you can do anything, he drops to his knees in front of you and lifts the folds of your white dress. You shiver, feeling his breath between your legs as he takes his time stroking your thighs, caressing them with his soft lips.

You moan as he sucks and bites the skin of your inner thighs, teasing you as he blatantly ignores your needy pussy. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, biting your lip as you try to pull him to your clothed core. He growls while spanking your pussy. You scream at the sudden, burning sensation, your legs shaking, so only his strong hands are keeping you upright.

You tilt your head back, resting it against the hedge, and moan softly as he presses a teasing kiss on your clothed core. His fingers gently slip under your panties, only to rip the fabric off of you in one quick movement.

You sigh as his nose brushes against your folds as he inhales your scent, stuffing your torn panties into his pants pocket. His tongue gently and teasingly tastes your wetness, making you even more frustrated. You push aside the fabric of your dress and take his hand that was exploring the curve of your ass and pull it to your pussy which is screaming for his attention.

His chuckle stimulates your clit, making you moan and pushing your hips into him in a desperate attempt to find a release. He growls angrily at your impatience and grabs your hips in an iron grip, positioning you to his liking and plan.

You hold your breath as his fingers gently enter you, soothing the burning feeling of emptiness inside you. His tongue plays with your clit, sucking every last drop of your juices out of you, as if he's as addicted to your taste and sounds as you are to the feeling of his touch and the way he fills you.

You feel your orgasm building. You close your eyes in blissful relief, allowing yourself to moan, not caring if anyone can hear you. Your fingers dig into his neck. He growls against your pussy as you draw his blood from him and intensifies his ministrations. His fingers move in and out quickly as he sucks on your most sensitive spot, as if he's trying to mark you there and leave you a hickey there.

Your fingers run up his neck. You want to pull his hair—hurt him as much as he hurts you. Your fingertips find their way beneath the black fabric of his mask covering his head, but when you reach out to grab his hair, you're met with bare skin.

And then everything falls into place in your head.

When the realisation comes to you, you freeze, you lose all feeling, and all you can do is stand there and think about who you let under your dress and between your legs.

Harkonnen. You were being eaten by a fucking Harkonnen, and judging by his body structure, voice, and the guest list you've looked through hundreds of times, by one and only Feyd-Rautha, Na-Barron of Giedi Prime.

You tremble, not at all because of the feeling of how his fingers and tongue work continuously on your orgasm, intensifying your sensations as he lets out soft moans at the taste of you, but because pure terror overwhelms your whole body. You unconsciously tighten the hug on his neck, which only increases the intensity of his… efforts on your wet folds, as he wants to take you over the edge.

You take advantage of the fact that he's too... distracted and push him away from you. You grab the skirt of your dress and run fast, as far away from him as possible. Your heart races as you hear his soft growl before, to your even greater dismay, he chases after you.

You run through a maze, trying to lose Harkonnen among many paths, hoping he will reach a dead end and lose your trail, or at least to find some group of people. After all, he won't be able to do anything to you in front of witnesses—or maybe he could?

You tremble at the thought that the same hands that cut the throats of servants and concubines, hands that killed prisoners in the arena and people in battle, touched you and were the cause of your... your pleasure.

How stupid you were! How could you allow yourself to be seduced by Harkonnen and carried away by your stupid emotions and desires? You mentally curse him, his family, and Paul Atreides, whose death made you have to chase men again to find a suitable husband. And especially you curse how amazing and extraordinary you felt under the touch of this bloodthirsty beast, whose house has been nefarious for centuries.

You run forward, not daring to turn around to see if he's still chasing you. You're so lost in your thoughts and so scared that you accidentally run into someone. You gasp as a hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from falling. You have a heart attack, thinking that it could be him and that he has somehow outsmarted you. But when you look up, you don't see blue irises, but green ones.

"Forgive me, my lord. I didn't mean to..." Your words stop as you take a closer look at the man. He wasn't wearing a mask; he apparently abandoned it when he entered the garden, and you have to say, he's... handsome. Very.

“Of course you didn't mean to. You couldn't see me when you were running so fast, which makes me wonder: From what are you running away, my lady?"

"I... To be honest, I'm running away from my maids. And that ball. It's just… too much excitement for one evening." You lie, quickly making up an excuse.

Obviously, you won't tell him that you're being chased by the horny Harkonnen heir, with whom you were ALONE in the garden. That would be a scandal. Just talking to this man now could be considered that way too... let alone what you allowed Feyd-Rautha to do to you.

"I think so too. Viscount Y/L/N throws good parties, but… they're a little too loud for my liking. Too vibrant." He comments, offering his arm to you. You can't help but smile as you place your hand in the crook of his arm.

Luckily, he leads the two of you in the opposite direction you were running from. You see that his brown and gold mask is tied to his arm, and on his finger he has... the ring of the Luwael family, a close family of Emperor Corrino. You just talked to the emperor's cousin, the pretender to his throne since he has no son.

You can't believe how lucky you are.

"Tell me about it, I've been enduring it since I was 15." You say it jokingly, giggling when you see his eyes widen as he realises he's gossiping about your father, and you think he looks adorable and cute in his state of little panic.

"Lady Y/N Y/L/N?" He asks, shocked. You nod and reach for the ribbon of your mask, removing it. You see his pupils dilate slightly as he takes in your appearance, his cheeks turning pink—whether from embarrassment or lust, you don't know, but you still like his reaction to you. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend…."

"You did not." You interrupt him quickly with a charming smile. "It's... refreshing to be able to talk to someone who has similar opinions and feelings. At least when it comes to those terrible balls."

"Sometimes I feel like they force us to participate just to have something to gossip about later."

"Don't you like gossip?" You ask curiously, raising an eyebrow as you continue your walk through the gardens. You completely forget about Harkonnen and your... mistake, as you are trying to gain the interest of the man next to you.

This could be your big chance.

True, you heard that he and Irulan were to marry so that power would remain in Corrino's hands, but... if you make him want you, no one will stop him from taking you as his wife.

"I don't like court intrigues. The way ladies throw themselves at lords just to gain a higher title."

"Maybe for you men, marriage is more than just a financial transaction, but unfortunately for most of us, it's all about stability. The security of our lives is the most important thing here, and love—love is a complex and difficult thing; most often, unfortunately, it is only in books. Won't you agree?"

"Possible. But I would rather my wife love me than the power I give her." You smile in understanding. So you have a romantic in front of you... You have to adjust your role well, so you keep your true thoughts to yourself. You innocently hang your head, feigning uncertainty.

"This is completely understandable. Don't all of us dream about it? Have someone of your own, trusted, to whom you can confide all your dreams and fears without being afraid of being laughed at or ignored?" You ask, turning your head to look at him as you ask him your final question.

By the way he watches you with a burning light in his eyes, you know you've come to the right place and have successfully sold your image of a weak, defenceless woman dreaming of a real courtly romance. Pathetic. However, you will do anything to get a husband, you'll even pretend to be a helpless lamb.

"Yes... I assume that's what all of us want. Maybe expect the Harkonnens." You laugh at his joke, feeling very awkward at the same time as the memory of a certain Harkonnen's lips comes back to you.

You curse yourself for how damn good he made you feel. They may not have known love, but if they were all like Na-Baron, they knew damn well how to please their women—a thing you couldn't say about all the lords of the great houses.

You and Lord Luwael walk around the garden for a while before you both decide to head back to the ballroom. You put on your masks, and the man escorts you back, all the while being a perfect gentleman, including dancing, which he later asked you for.

You have fun maintaining your image as a hopeless romantic who wants to find true love and break away from the courtly conventions that overwhelm you—a perfect match for the emperor's heir. He doesn't tell you his identity until the end of the evening, but you don't mind. You know you've charmed him. And that he will seek your company at the next events of this season.

What you don't know is that certain icy-blue irises are watching you two furiously as you are led back into the ballroom by Lord Luwael. You also don't know that the Harkonnens are persistent and ruthless people who can wait years for their plans to be implemented, and that their devilish Na-Baron is truly the worst of them all...

Or that Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen decided a long time ago that you would become his wife. It didn't matter what he had to do or how to achieve his goal.

In the future, you will often regret this night and dancing with the Harkonnen devil. Very often.

~9 years earlier~

“They say he killed his mother. That his uncle and brother are training him to become a killer beast. That he is now devoid of any emotion except anger and bloodlust, and Paul told me that he apparently even has concubines.” Irulan gossips with you as the two of you watch in the distance as Feyd-Rautha trains in the courtyard.

The emperor invited several greater families to discuss something. You weren't too interested about it. Your mother simply packed your things and said you were leaving for a week. But you were happy. You had the opportunity to play with other nobles' children and it was definitely a nice break from listening to your parents' constant arguments.

"Nonsense. He's our age. Let's ask him if he wants to play with us." You decide and stand up to walk over to the hairless boy. Irulan grabs your hand tightly and pulls you back to your hiding place behind the pillar.

"He is a Harkonnen, Y/N. They don't play." She says and leans out to look at him. He swings his sword several times, making several quick movements and turns.

"But he isn't like them. He grew up on Lankiveil. Besides, I still remember him when he had blonde hair. And Harkonnens have no hair, so..."

"Baron made him his heir. Of course he had to... make himself look like them." She interrupts you, wrinkling her nose in disgust. You shiver slightly at the mere mention of the baron and nod thoughtfully.

"Pity. His blonde curls were pretty." You comment and lean out to look at him. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with him. He looks at you coldly, not moving an inch. You wave at him, giving him a hesitant smile. He stares at you for a while longer before he turns on his heel, his back to you, as he continues his training as if nothing had happened. "Still, we should have asked him. He looks quite lonely."

"NO. I won't be nice to him. If my mother gives a son to my father and I have to marry this… Harkonnen, I will throw myself from the tower."

"Why from the tower?" You ask, confused, frowning at the girl.

"I don't know. This is what the main characters in books do when something terrible happens to them. They say they will throw themselves off the tower."

"I prefer it when they fight the dragon." You say this, glancing at the boy again. You don't know why, but something just wouldn't let you walk away and leave him, although you really want to play with Paul, Irulan, and the other kids. You find yourself much more wanting to play with this strange boy.

You frown when you see him accidentally cut his hand. He doesn't cry like Paul did when you slammed his hand in the door. Instead, he puts his mouth on the wound and sucks out the blood. He tears off a piece of his clothes, wraps it around his hand, and continues training.

And somehow, it makes you make a decision.

"Y/N! What are you doing?!" Irulan hisses at you as you pull your hand from her grasp and take a step towards the courtyard.

"Fighting the dragon. Wish me luck." You answer, and without looking back, you head towards the training boy. His pale, bald head almost gleams in the sun, and you can't help but wonder if his lack of hair makes him less tolerant of the sun's heat.

When you are close to him, you stand still, not wanting to accidentally impale yourself on his sword. He notices you out of the corner of his eye, stops swinging his sword, and turns towards you, looking at you closely.

"Hi." You say as you wave at him.

"Lady Y/N." His voice is slightly hoarse, as if he had sandpapered it. You frown, surprised by such a formal greeting. Usually, only adults greet you like that.

"Um... my lord?" You answer hesitantly and shake your head, trying to ignore how strange he's acting. "Do you want to join us? We are playing hide and seek." You say, pointing your thumb at the pillar you and Irulan were hiding behind a few seconds ago.

"It's fun for kids." He replies dismissively and starts swinging his sword again.

"Are you not one?" You ask in surprise, still looking at him. He growls in annoyance and turns towards you, giving you a furious glare as you interrupt him.

"No. I am a man. And men are supposed to fight in battles and train to become stronger."

"Why?" You ask and frown at him, following him as he walks over to the fountain where he left his water and towel. He wipes the beads of sweat from his head, giving you a confused gaze.

"To keep their women and country safe." He replies like it's an obvious thing everyone should know.

"Well... do you have any in danger right now?" This time it's him who furrows his hairless eyebrows at your weird question. He thinks for a moment, observing you, and then shakes his head.

"No."

"Great! Then you can play with us." You say it excitedly and grab his hand. He hisses under your touch, and it's only then that you realise you've grabbed his injured hand. You want to apologise, but his mad glare quickly silences you.

"I already told you that I am not going to play any stupid game, woman!"

"Hey! I am not a woman, I am a girl! And you are a boy, so stop pretending to be an adult and play with us." You respond to his furious growl with your own and shoot him your evil glare. But instead of caring about your outburst and maybe even complying with your demands, he just laughs, making you even angrier.

"I will do whatever I want. You won't order me, little bunny. It doesn't matter how cute you look when you're angry." He mocks you and turns his back on you. You stamp your foot, furious at his behaviour and the fact that he is dismissing you.

"I doubt that sitting all alone is what you prefer." You say, unconsciously hitting his sweet spot. You see him tense as he reaches for his sword. However, his attitude quickly turns indifferent again as he turns his head to glance at you briefly.

"You should go."

"Why?"

"Before anyone notices me with you. Why are you asking so many questions?" He asks irritably, and he starts his training again.

Even though he tries to ignore you, you can see him glancing at you every few moments as you continue to stand there, watching as he swings his sword and cuts through the air.

"Is that yours?" You ask him curiously, sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Yes. My uncle gave it to me for my 10th birthday." He replies proudly and stops for a moment to talk to you. You smile, staring longingly at the metal blade.

"My gave me dolls. Again. It's so boring." You grumble, keeping your eyes on his weapon. "How do you play with it?"

"I don't play. I train." He replies in annoyance and rolls his eyes at you. But you can see in his eyes that he's not mad at you at all. On the contrary, he wants to continue talking to you. That's why you act more boldly.

"Whatever. How do you train with it? Can you show me?"

"These are not things for a woman." His rejection doesn't dampen your excitement at all. On the contrary, you want to train with him even more, to do something that your mother forbade you to do a long time ago.

"Well, that's a good thing that I am a girl, then. Can you show me? Please? My dad wanted to train me, but my mom didn't agree. She is stupid." You complain, causing him to chuckle. You smile widely, thinking that he looks better when he's cheerful and not with that dark and grim scowl.

"She is. You should know how to protect yourself. Your father won't be fighting for your safety forever. And with that attitude, I doubt you will ever find a husband to protect you."

"Good. I don't want one. Can you show me then?" You ask, ignoring the fact that he's trying to insult you. You look up at him with your beautiful, pleading eyes and stick out your lower lip.

He watches you for a moment, frowning as he feels his heart beat faster when you give him that cute look he simply can't resist. He sighs, barely taking his eyes off of you, and nods.

"Fine. But only if you stay away from me after that."

"Okay." You reply excitedly and nod enthusiastically. He smiles slightly and stands behind you, helping you maintain a good stance with your sword.

"Hold it like that." He says, adjusting your grip on the handle.

"It's so heavy! How can you hold it and move?" You almost collapse under the weight of the sword, but you try to hold it the way he shows you. He laughs huskily, making you smile.

"You can get used to it with time. Now. I will show you some basic movements."

He trains with you and shows you some tricks and moves. And although he was rough and rude towards you at first, over time you both enjoyed each other's company.

You manage to make him laugh a few times, and each time you count it as a small victory considering how grumpy he was. He's obviously extremely fascinated with fighting and seems more than willing to teach you a few things. You think this "training" is fun—at least until you accidentally injure yourself.

"Ouch!" You scream and almost drop his sword. Luckily, he caught it quickly, before you could cut your foot. He furrows his hairless eyebrows and takes your injured hand in his.

"You're as clumsy as you look, little bunny." He mumbles and brings your hand to his mouth.

He licks up your blood like he did with his and tears off a piece of your dress. He wraps the cloth around the wound and looks closely at your hand. You frown, disgusted that he's licking your blood, but you don't move. Well... not until you realise this insult.

"Hey! You hurt yourself a while ago, too. Besides, it's my first time." You are angry at him, pulling your hand away and crossing your arms.

"Because I had an unexpected audience that was talking passionately about me behind my back."

"Oh… I'm sorry. It was mean." You respond contritely, not realising how he must have felt when everyone around him assumed the worst about him and didn't want to be around him.

"I got used to it." He replies in an emotionless tone and looks away from you, almost looking like a beaten dog, even though he tries hard not to show it. And you feel terribly sorry for him.

"You shouldn't. You are cool. When you take the stick out of your ass." You joke, and he chuckles. You smile at him, but his good mood is suddenly interrupted by something. His face turns serious, his muscles tense, and you only hear the growl of some animal before Feyd pushes you behind him.

A large hunting dog runs up to you. He lunges at Feyd, knocking him down. The dog bites him, and Feyd screams in rage. He tries to plunge his sword into the dog's side, but it clamps its jaws on the Feyd's arm, immobilising him.

You gasp in dismay. You reach for a rock and throw it at the dog, trying to distract it. You succeed, but before you can think about what to do next, the dog lunges at you.

You land on your back and use your elbows to get up, but the dog is quickly above you. He growls, foam dripping from his muzzle onto you, and you can only stare in horror into his eyes. You gasp when, just as he is about to sink his teeth into you, Feyd's sword suddenly pierces the dog.

You lie on the ground, unable to move, as you feel the animal's blood dripping onto your dress. Feyd pushes the dog off of you and gives you a worried look.

"Are you hurt?" He asks and offers you his hand. He helps you get back on your feet, looking for any wounds. You shake and shiver as you look at the dead animal. Feyd notices this and places his hand on your cheeks, making you look into his eyes as he turns your back to the animal's body.

He opens his mouth to repeat the question, but freezes when you throw yourself into his arms and hug him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you sob softly. Feyd holds you tentatively and strokes your hair, clumsily trying to calm you down.

"Thank you." You mumble into his neck. He doesn't say anything. He just holds you, letting you cry into him and calm him down. When you finally do, you move away from him. You wipe tears away with the sleeve of your dress, which makes Feyd's heart clench uncomfortably.

He doesn't understand what you're doing to him. He should have felt disgusted by you and been as far away from you as possible. He should have rejected you the moment you threw yourself at him, but... somehow he couldn't deny you this moment of comfort. The mere thought of you seeking comfort from him made his heart flutter a little. And you smelled nice, too. Like ocean. Like Lankiveil. Like home.

You represented everything his uncle wanted him to forget. You were... soft. Too soft. And nice. He should have wanted to hurt you, not comfort you, but all he wanted to do was hold you and protect you from the cruel world.

"Y/N!" Your father's scream reaches you.

The man pulls you further away from Feyd and looks at him warily before his worried gaze shifts to you and your eyes, bloody from crying. A moment later, the Baron and the Emperor join you. The men look at you and the dead dog, frowning.

"My best hunting dog..."

"Feyd-Rautha, what is this about? What have you done?" Her uncle's threatening growl makes Feyd tense. A shiver runs through him, and he opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him to it, leaving your father's arms and standing bravely in front of the baron and emperor.

"He saved me."

"What?"

"The dog broke off the leash. It… it would have bitten and torn me if Na-Baron hadn't killed it." The men look at each other, assessing the situation. Feyd watches you carefully, ignoring the surprised, frightened looks from the emperor and your father as you tell them that he killed a nearly three-foot dog.

"I... thank you, Na-Baron. For protecting my daughter." Your father nods to him, but he still has an iron grip on your arm. As if he were afraid that Feyd would turn out to be a worse, more dangerous beast to you than the dog that wanted to bite you to death.

"You're welcome, Viscount Y/L/N." He replies, shifting his gaze from you to your father for a moment.

Your dad is not waiting for the Emperor and the Baron to let you two go. He simply grabs your hand and leads you back to the palace with him. As if he wanted you to be as far away from the Harkonnens as possible.

"You shouldn't let just any dog ​​bite you. You let me down, boy."

You feel sad when you hear his uncle's words. You turn your head, making eye contact with the hairless boy. You give him a small, reassuring smile and wave at him. You see him purse his lips and shift his gaze back to his uncle, who is scolding him. However, he looks much less tense than before.

Unknowingly to you, you gained a secret admirer that day. An admirer who was going to make him the only man who would have the privilege of protecting you and holding you in his arms. He promised himself that this would happen, even if he had to bring hell into the world.

~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

Dearest, gentle readers… did you miss me?

The opening of a new season has never been a more exciting and long-awaited event. The great families were impatiently waiting for more scandals delivered by this year's suitors. And this author is bursting with anticipation for the future events and gossips of this season.

This year, we have several unexpected debuts that this author will be watching very closely. However, I am convinced that the undivided attention of the masses will probably be stolen by the Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who this year decided to take part in the great search for a wife.

Lord, take care of the future Baron's chosen one so that she can live up to the expectations and life among the Harkonnens.

However, this author wishes the Na-Baron all the best on his birthday and believes that we all look forward to the opening of the season on Giedi Prime, especially to his signature fight in the arena, which will be the main part of Na-Baron's birthday celebration.

But we also cannot forget about the stars of the previous season, whose story is not even close to the end yet.

Lady Y/N Y/L/N did not decide to plunge into great mourning after the tragic death of her fiancé, Paul Atreides. Lord Luwael was charmed by the young honourable at the end of the previous season, and Lady Y/N turned out to be not indifferent to his courtship. Surprising? A little bit. Unreasaonbale? Of course not. After all, why stand faithfully by a corpse of a duke when you can stick by the side of a potential Emperor?

But this author is deeply disappointed that we didn't get to hear any wedding bells at the end of the previous season. Maybe these two will surprise us all this year, and we will see a real royal wedding that we haven't been able to witness for ages.

We are all looking forward to the ball in honour of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's birthday, which will be opening this year's season. And this author can't wait to bring all the gossip and scandal to our curious readers. Who knows who will win this great race and have a good match this season?

Happy hunting to all the future brides!

[cvnt4him]

..............................................

It doesn't make any sense to him, really.

How did you, the same person he, not that'd it even come up in conversation, helplessly.... 'massaged' himself a little too 'roughly' until he blew his load, how did you have him like this? You were towering over him on his bed as he held your hips, bucking into you, god he needs you so bad. You felt that and you ate it up. You loved the fact he needed you.

The room was filled with hot breaths and moans accompanied by groans and whines occasionally, it was a little misunderstanding really, you had never intended to get the #1 hero all hot and bothered while spending the day with him for your little vlog.

"SPENDING THE DAY WITH THE #1 HERO!!!"

The title of your YouTube video, you just wanted to meet him is all, and when he dm'd YOU, for a colab? You were over the moon!! You'd wanted to meet him for so long!! Maybe at a meet n greet, or some kind of convention, or anything else but no, he wanted to colab with you.

You were in another state at the time, filming in case you have some kind of posting material, when he told you you'd be flying in his very own private jet??? Yeah what kind of Wattpad fanfic is this?? This doesn't just happen in real life, and yet it did, to you.

The way he hugged you for the first time like he loved the warmth you aid to him, like your body was just what he needed, craved. God if only you knew what slutty dirty things he did to himself thinking of you that night, you'd be so disgusted in him!!

Or would you?

That question was all that clouded poor zuzus thoughts as he studied and observed you very closely as you spent your time together.

"we'll be staying in my penthouse! It's pretty big so you can have your own room until I fly you back out to New York!! If that's alright with you, of course."

He spoke to you in the sweetest, calmest, voice ever, his words so hypnotic, he hadn't realized you'd practically been under his spell for so long, this really was the dream, meeting your celebrity crush, STAYING WITH HIM?? You're sleeping, in his very own house. penthouse, that is.

You two played games, watched movies, and you asked him questions his very own fans would've loved to have known. And he shared every detail with you, with pure utter truth laced in his words. Everything he told you was true, because he felt he couldn't lie to you. You were so pure!! Such an angel! You didn't deserve to be lied to or harmed, ever!

"and that was 'spending the day with izuku midoriya'!!' you say as you end your video with your normal 'like n subscribe' shit and turn your camera off sighing at how much footage you'll have to edit and keep to yourself, but hey at least you got a day with your husband out of it!!

He looked at you, observingly, as you sigh and out your hand in the back of your neck in a tired sense.

"man you don't know how tiring it really is being an influencer, haha!" You joke.

He chuckled lightly, gaze still locked on you, your hands, how much smaller they are in comparison to his, how soft they are, how well you'd please him with them.

He really didn't want his mind going there with you, honest! It was never his intentions!! But how could he help himself? You were just so mesmerizing, corrupting. Izuku had never been such a pervert before he'd looked at your beautiful face!

So really, these thoughts, his growing erection that painfully twitches behind his zipper, the amount of precum leaking from his already needy and ready cock, it's your fault. All your fault.

If you hadn't looked so good, spoke to him with a honey like voice, with such a sultry tone, he wouldn't have gotten these thoughts! He wouldn't have gotten this hard.

So yeah, when he stood and glided behind you and put his hands on your shoulder, rubbing and massaging the tense area, causing a low moan to rip right out of you, which he heard and accepted, there was no way, in any way, any if this could even remotely be his fault!

He was just giving you what he knew you needed, a nice relaxing massage. Like the one he gave himself 2 weeks ago listening to the sound of your drunken voice and slurred words as you fan girls over meeting him, how much you loved his suit and how sexy you really thought he was, it's a shame you hadn't actually gotten to see him in his hero suit much today, maybe some other time!

He continued to massage you little whimpers escaping you from the rough yet gentle motions of his heavy, warm, hands, the way his hands trailed up to your neck then back down to your shoulders, it felt so amazing, you couldn't help but close your eyes and let him control you.

You hadn't realized it at first, but this slut really was pressing his oh so hard cock right up against your back, and he.. was he moaning?

The sounds of this grown adult man, whimpering lightly above you, grinding his weeping cock, against your back like some teenaged virgin, made your eyes shoot wide open, you didn't move, you say there, listening and being patient to assure this was what was actually happening.

Once you were sure, you quickly whipped your body around to look at him with a smirk, he jumped in confusion and terror, he was so afraid that you had caught onto what he was doing, and you did.

You scoffed, and looked him up and down, eyes trailing back down to his hard on them widening at the heavy amount of precum that left his still twitching cock.

Damn, well at least you knew his cock was thick and strong enough to make his pants move along with his cock.

"had you really thought I didn't notice the way you were grinding against me like a slut?"

He whimpered opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. It was never his intentions!!! Honest!! Why won't you believe him! This is your fault anyways!! Take responsibility!

He thought of what he wanted to say, opening his mouth before being completely shut down by you, as you laughed out loud at the sight in front of you, his eyes were glossy, his cock was still twitching, and his hair was slightly messy, was he really gonna cum against your back?

"wow, I idolized a hero, a man known for his big bright smile, a smile that could save a man's life. And yet, here he is, rubbing his disgusting cock against his acquaintance, not even, technically a business partner. I never knew you were such a dirty, pathetic, slut."

He looked at you in horror, fuck. He really was a slut. And damn did it get him so hot and bothered when you called him one, the way you spat venom with each word that left your beautifully glossed lips, a smirk still painted upon your features, and you scoff once more.

He looked as if he was gonna cry, really he did, you laughed at that.

"are you really gonna cry because I caught you, being a dirty whore? God, you really are pathetic."

You laughed again, but you hadn't known, the real reason he was gonna cry was because, yeah sure, he was humiliated and embarrassed, but he was teary eyed because he was enjoying it. He knew he was a slut, only slits enjoy being degraded in such ways, with such hurtful names, he enjoyed it so much his cock started leaking again.

You wiped a tear that left your eye from the belly laugh you just had, as you sigh with a smile still on your face, you look at him in his eyes as he instantly looked away, covering his face with his arm.

"This is your fault.."

He said to you, in the softest, sluttiest, shakiest voice he could muster up.

It really was pathetic you almost busted out laughing again, but you'd thought you'd spare him the extra embarrassment.

You were curious on what he meant by 'your fault'.

"whatever do you mean, midoriya?"

You ask blessing him with the beautiful sound of you calling him by his last name.

He couldn't even look at you, let alone speak. He sighed, arm still covering his red, sweaty, freckled face.

So he asks himself again, how did you, manage to get on top of him, stroking his leaky, dribbling cock as he moans and writhes underneath you, you had demanded he tie himself up with black whip and he obeyed without a word. He needed this and you loved that.

You had been edging him for an hour now, he hadn't came but he felt like he could, all he wanted to do was cum for you, all he wanted was to please you, be inside of you!

You were really bullying and torturing him for basically defending himself against your forceful will. You were the one who started rubbing your neck as your shirt draped off of your shoulder.

You did this to him, and yet he's being punished? It wasn't fair! He didn't deserve to be edged and tortured by your, just as predicted, soft, smaller than, hands, the way you held his thick cock with both of your hands, your fingers not being able to touch around his slightly veined length, he loved how much you enjoyed getting him off like this, hell just blatantly torturing him, so you endured it for a little while longer, for you.

His pants and boxers had been ruined with his precum, you had discarded them long ago, you rub your hands up and down his cock in painfully fast strokes, it hurt so bad all he could do was sob underneath you and arch up into your touch.

His leaky cock just wouldn't stop leaking, giving you more precum every time you gave his pretty glossed cock a full stroke, you rubbed the tip of his cock repeatedly, rubbing and smearing his sticky precum around the head of his cock, earning a loud whine from him, he was putty in your pretty, manicured hands.

"do you want it, big boy? Does my big strong man need it? Need to cum?~" you tease and coo to him in a baby like voice, with pouty lips, laughing at his reactions to this, he nodded eagerly with little 'yes please's and 'mhm!'s leaving his plump lips that had been chewed to the point its practically numb.

You continued your fast strokes before pulling both your hands away laughing at his body leaning forward for your touch, the sobs and heavy tears that leave his body are genuinely so cute.

He wanted to cum so badly, he needed it! How could you be so cruel!

"please.. please! Let me.. make me cum!! Mommy~..."

He whined with a string of pleas leaving his mouth as he sobs helplessly begging for the release he needed, he could taste, he just needed you to get him there.

Oh?

That's new? And actually, oddly fucking hot, you'd never been called mommy before, you actually fucking liked it.

"what's that, pretty boy?"

He hadn't meant for it to slip! It just did! He felt far too good in the given moment and had to beg for his release which you still haven't graced upon him.

He whined and looked away, you scoff and think, how will you get him to call you mommy again?

Oh, that's right, bargaining!

"alright, midoriya, let's make a deal. You call me mommy again, no, beg for me, whilst calling me mommy, and I'll let you come, promise."

He listened, he liked the way that sounded.

He gulped down hard, look at you with those big die eyes of his, batting away tears threatening to spill from him, as he sighed shakily.

"please... mommy?" Was all he gave, his voice whispered as he looked up at you with tired pleading eyes,he sighed frowning deeply as he was sticky in sweat and his own pre, his cock still twitching and aching, he needed it but he wasn't going to make you give it to him, he truly was a good boy!!

You sighed, satisfied with what he'd given you, and you finally, granted him with the sweet relief of cumming his brains out, which he did, beautifully as he shook and turned and sobbed begging for the sweet release while you stroked his cock in a hurried pace, you were glad you'd given him the sweet and savory release he needed.

"good boy."

Was all you said as he rolled his eyes back and shot thick, white, planks of his hot white cum all over your hands, shirt, and all over his own chest, he always came a lot, so this was expected from him, however you, you hadn't expected there to be this much, and hell he was stilk cumming, little drips of his white seed still spilling from his overstimulated, twitching, cock now softening in you palm as you petted his thick girth it lying limp in your hand.

He sighed in relief, he'd finally cum and was spent, all he wanted now was to cuddle the cause of his explosion of an orgasm.

Which you granted, you hadn't expected to start dating after this, but you'd better believe you'd be meeting like this again. He vowed that he'd bend you over every surface he had to, to get you obsessed and brain dead with his cock, it belonged to you.

..............................................

AN; I feel like this is pretty good, now that I'm for the most part well rested and not in a mood, I think I wrote this well enough! Enjoy babes<33

Taggies!!; @lovelykil, @heromissy, @v3n7s, @lily-sinclair-2006

[artmunstudios]

Lies of P Character Analysis: P and Carlo

Spoilers for the ending of the game lie ahead under the cut!

I have been seeing a lot of people refer to P as Carlo, specifically in the Rise of P ending, and I think it is very important to think about this fact, because it kind of goes hand in hand with the themes of the game overall. And on top of that, it's important for when making theories too!

P isn’t Carlo—he never was, and won’t ever be no matter what ending you get. Not even the Nameless Puppet is really Carlo. (His corpse maybe which is,,,,, so fucked)

I'm kinda driving this home, because I think it is really important to understand the difference between P and Carlo, because despite Geppetto claiming that P inherited his personality instead of the memories, they clearly are very different people, and that is solely because of their environments.

He’s much more like a reflection of Carlo, if he was raised in a more loving/nurturing environment. P is a Carlo that isn’t solely filled with nothing but spite and anger towards his father that literally abandoned and clearly even resented him. Compare this to the people around P at the home he knew, Hotel Krat.

Sofia— Never once really says a bad word to P. Not even in the bad ending. She is that gentle guide that, despite claiming to have awakened P for selfish reasons, acts entirely selfless and is willing for her freedom to be put on hold to help P in aiding in lessening the damage in Krat. She compliments him, gives encouraging words, and I would even dare to say she teaches P the value of life.

Antonia— Grandma. Of. The Year. Can we please give this classy lady of all sass and glory more than a peaceful death? Like???? I dunno, sneak her a bottle of that good wine, Tipple Lady seemed to really dig it. If she wasn't so sick I am more than certain that she would have been doting on P more than just verbally. I'm talking that kind of grandma, and you know exactly what I mean. This lady would somehow find a way for there to be ingredients for cookies because goddammit, she may be classy but I bet you any money she makes the best goddamn peanut butter cookies and YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. Every time P would come back all dirty, he would get the scolding of a lifetime because how many times does she have to tell him to leave that dirty coat and boots at the entry and let Polendina get them for a wash— And finally, if she were well enough you know damn well P would have been even more classy than he already was with those outfits. She would spend an entire day going through wardrobes and having P try each outfit on to see what looks good, because no grandson of hers is going out in drabs she will not have it— Ahem. Er. ANywayyy...that grandma. she would be that grandma. And still kind of is, she just couldn't do much being so ill. And, kind of on the flipside, I think Antonia in a way taught P the importance of death, and how it can be drawing near, but you can still be full of hope like she was.

Polendina and Pulcinella — These two taught P a very important lesson, and even taught it to him fairly early on! Puppets are not inherently evil; in fact, they can be just as alive as any human. They both love the ones they take care of, and provide that sense of kinship that P really needed. In a way, P is biracial (racial....or...????bispecies???? I????? I don't know what to call it?????) so seeing both sides of each half in him is such a great influence, and helps him realize that he may be different to both, he can belong in both worlds.

Eugenie— Sweetie. Babygirl. Bestie. She was thrown into the position of big sister so fast she didn't even realize it until like. The end of the game, I think. That conversation about her big brother seemed to make her realize that she was a big sister to P in a way, I think. Which is why the realization about her own older sibling made things much harder, I think.

Lorenzini— An eccentric, but genuinely kind hearted man. A human, that despite everything, still treats the puppets as family. Hell, he doesn't even convinced that they are the villains, and he is the one to actually initiate the whole path to when the group discovers that Geppetto is the one behind the frenzy. 1000/10, coolest uncle; he probably will buy P so many ridiculous things the moment things have calmed down in Krat. What's that? Oh, yes you need a place to stay--HAVE A HOUSE. DO YOU WANT THE BLOCK I CAN BUY YOU A BLOCK-- (Pulcinella has to withhold finances because Lorenzini will NOT stop buying P shit, and the poor lad doesn't really have a concept of money so of course he's gonna accept it all and just say yes!) .... (The realization of P not really having a concept of currency suddenly startles me. WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WHEN KRAT IS RESTORED??? POLENDINA WHY DID YOU RESET HE NEEDS FUCKIN HELP— )

Geppetto— Ah. Yes. Rat bastard (derogatory). Deadbeat dad. Control freak. YOU. I will. Give him this, and I do genuinely mean this; despite everything he has done, and how manipulative he is, he, ironically, gave P exactly what he needed from a father in some ways. Specifically, Geppetto always reminded P that he was precious and important to him, and that he genuinely did not like sending him out into dangerous situations. Even though, it was for different reasons, and the majority of us were suspicious from the start, we have to think about it from P's perspective. Think about all the things he said to him, until the end at least. P had legitimately no reason to suspect Geppetto. In many ways, as far as P could tell, he was perfect. Encouraging, gentle, he made sure P was always in tip-top shape, and he told him that he was proud to see him fight the King of Puppets (yes it's fucked up knowing it was Romeo, Carlo's possible only friend, but again, P doesn't know that until the very end). In a way, he taught P his own worth, to the point that he valued his own individuality, and refused to give up his sense of self. And in the very end, I think Geppetto realized that P was not Carlo, but he loved him like a father, despite everything.

Gemini (I FORGOT GEMINI AND HAD TO EDIT TO ADD HIM IN CAST ME INTO THE FUCKIN FIRE I AM A FAKE PINOCCHIO LORE FANATIC) - Gemini, in my opinion, in this iteration is less of a conscious and more of a??? He's kinda like Romeo's replacement, in a way; he's P's best friend. He kinda also teaches P humor as well, which is honestly a take on the talking Cricket that is so unique. He's like that awkward teacher that is young but still a little out of touch with the generation he's teaching that it's like the equivalent of hearing your 30 something professor tell a fucking dad pun. Speaking of teaching, he teaches P a lot! Especially history, and cultural stuff for Krat; and I think that's also really important for development! And it is really sweet how he still, despite Krat being in disarray, tries to kinda give the city that sense of wonder and joy for P that maybe other tourists would have.

Now, contrast that with Carlo's life:

His father drops him off randomly at a place he doesn't know (a fucking orphanage dude, you couldn't even be fucked to ship him to a proper private school at least Geppetto?) at we can assume age 10-12, without even bothering to tell him when or if he would come back, based on that first memory we see. How many more sleeps until daddy comes back? Geppetto couldn't even be bothered to see his graduation, and he claims that he would not care if he just dropped over dead. And, I'm gonna be real, just based on the line delivery, as well as some personal experiences (get into that a little later with some dissection) I fully believe he means it. I'm gonna be real, the people who say stuff like that, specifically older kids edging adulthood, most of the time they really mean that shit. And, to make matters worse, it's not even just Geppetto that brushes him off, even people that you could argue are supposed to be mentor figures, brush him off. But we don't know enough yet about the Stalker Woman, so I won't go too deep into that. Right to his death (which we have to assume was homicide) it seemed like the entire world, but Romeo, rejected him.

In a way, it makes sense that the Nameless Puppet is just a rage-filled, calculating, killing machine when it gets P's heart. It doesn't inherit the personality, just the memories. And that, with the kind of life Carlo lived, makes for a very dangerous being.

Let's also think about what Giangio said, too. He calls P a new kind of human. P doesn't just magically get human guts and whatnot. He's not human, he's a cyborg, I suppose, but even that doesn't seem entirely right. It's just kinda as Giangio calls him; a new kind of human. I guess, if we want to get cheeky, P is a Legion Human. Carlo was human, and that's just how it was. Carlo never comes back, but the memory of him does seem to live on in P. He's like??? He starts off as a reflection, and ends up becoming a legacy to Carlo, in a way.

But there is one huge indicator yet that shows that P and Carlo are separate people.

I'm gonna be honest, and say potentially a bold take, but I genuinely don't think Carlo would have cried if he were there when Geppetto dies, I really don't. Just speaking from personal experience (yet again), I have an absentee parent that, the older I get, I kind of realized was never really in my life. Similar to Geppetto in a way, too, in the concept of wanting more of a concept rather than actually being a parent. So, just speaking from that perspective, if my absentee father who never bothered to get to know me or even cared about who I was as a person died in such a way (lowkey from his own hubris) I can't say it's realistic to think that someone with that kind of relationship would cry for that parent. Feel sad? Absolutely, it's not like you are heartless and just lose all sense of apathy for that person. But it's hard to really mourn for a stranger at worst, and a associate at best.

However, P does cry. More than that, when you see him curl over Geppetto's body in the true end, that right there, is fucking despair. Again, just kind of speaking from experience, your body does some weird shit to cope when you are upset over a death. You kinda revert back to that state of being a kid, wanting to coddle your precious thing because when you were at that age, you believed that things could be fixed with stuff like a hug, or cradling, etc. It's not a conscious thought, but that is part of the reflex. P holds Geppetto, the man that he genuinely sees as his father, close; because it's the only thing he knows what to do in that moment. If we think about Carlo and Geppetto's relationship, can we really see Carlo holding his father close like that?

TLDR: P and Carlo are two entirely different people; and it is almost solely because of the environments they were in.

[hibiscusfairys]

image !!

🍁 draco malfoy ; unrequited love, part 2 (hufflepuff fem reader)

♪ i cant make you love me : version by george michael

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5

♡ warnings: angst

tagged: @miawastakens

☆

Your vision was blurred — the long corridor you paced through seemed never ending. The echoing footsteps of his behind you, only encouraged you to walk faster.

“Why are you being so sensitive?”

There was no denying he held a weight in your heart. Despite his cruel nature, you loved him. You’d thought you would be able to become used to it, or even influence change within him. But in the end, your efforts were futile, and judging his frigid reaction, he was just the same person you’d met.

“Stop walking so fast.”

His sharpened voice called to you again. It was the first time that the self-absorbed shell of his had cracked, and you sensed a hint of worry lace his voice. You froze in your tracks, your breath heavy and loud from your hard efforts of keeping composure.

“Why are you upset?” He asked, finally catching up to your stance. “You don’t like me really, do you?”

You shook your head. “You’re cruel and dismissive to me—”

You couldn’t answer him properly. You couldn’t even utter the lie. He even knew, too.

Why was it so painful?

“You’re not answering.” He interrupted, his breath hitching in his voice. “Why won’t you answer?”

“Let me finish!”

His eyes looked guilty. You could already foreshadow the answer that you were going to be present with. I’m sorry.. I can’t..

He waited patient, unlike him.

“Wasn’t it obvious.. though?” You asked, a lump forming in your throat.

He swallowed, his vision diverting elsewhere. Draco stood, unsure of how to forge his reply. It angered him that you liked him, not because he wasn’t interested, but because he found it so difficult to be polite. Usually, he’d be unafraid to speak his mind. But after seeing you in a moment so vulnerable, he had to restrain himself, especially as he wouldn’t be able to carry the guilt afterwards. He didn’t have the time to deal with that. Why was he even dealing with you? Why did he feel guilty? Why didn’t he just leave you be?

Questions swirled round his head. He didn’t remember thinking of you any differently until now. What happened? Was it just guilt, the fear of regret? Or was it something he had buried deep, and focused on Astoria to combat these feelings he had been having?

He took a deep breath, remorse filling his response. “It was.”

You slowly nodded, accepting that your feelings would never be reciprocated by him. Both of you were all too different.

“I’m glad you can know now though, at least.” You said, your eyes glaring to his shoes. You couldn’t look at him. You felt so humiliated and disappointed it brought hurt to your chest. “Don’t waste any time feeling guilty though.”

Would he even waste a second of time worrying about this?

“Stop.” He blurted, clearly pained by your response. He knew it was inconvenient for you to both love. He knew that from the beginning.

Draco was still set on denial. There was no way he could allow himself to love you.

“Just give up.” He muttered to you, his eyes flickering back to yours. But he felt himself wavering between his feelings. “I’m going with Astoria, so just find someone else.”

The blonde began to back away slowly, re-adjusting his green tie. He turned to leave, occasionally looking back at your hopeless figure stood with grief.

It wasn’t time for him to admit to himself. Astoria was beautiful, there was no denying that. But why was he only just feeling a connection to you? There was no previous spark between you both before, him and the muggle born girl.

Was it when it was finally brought up, he realised?

Draco violently shook his thoughts away, frustration building in his emotion. He would never face the truth. He knew that, right?

☆

part 3 is soon RAHHH, sorry if it was kind of short, but i really enjoyed this part :) i know its a little cliche but oh well!!! thank you so much for supporting this little thing btw, im not really too experienced in writing so i appreciate it so much

[icallhimjoey]

Never Over

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Following “Only Now”, “Over Now” and “Then Again”, the story continues. You agreed to have coffee with Eddie, because Eddie needs to speak to you. Sure, he wrote that letter, but he needs to have an actual conversation. So you do, and then, afterwards, it sort of… all just, goes to shit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, mentions of smut, angst, substance abuse, hard drugs, alcoholism, lots of being sick, addiction, codependency, withdrawal symptoms

Author’s note: So, I was really convinced that this story was over for me. That the three prior parts to this would remain a trilogy, and that, if I were to ever write for Eddie again, it would be something entirely different. But then I got a message from my girlie and, shit. Here we are.

Wordcount: 10.7K

(find all four parts of this story here)

The rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the vehicle did a good job of slowly letting Eddie fall asleep. It quickly became too difficult to keep his heavy eyelids open still, but the wide grin on his face was there to stay.

It was late, and the day had been long, but Eddie was happy. So very happy. Everything was coated in a light layer of joy, satisfaction, contentment, fulfillment and love. Even grumpy band members with snarky comments coming from the other bunks didn’t spoil his mood.

They weren’t rose-tinted glasses that falsely made him think everything was perfect, because he knew they very much weren’t perfect. However, there was a beauty in being sure.

Eddie felt sure, and Eddie would tell everyone that he felt sure all the time.

You, on the other hand, were very consistently unsure. About everything. Constantly.

The entire week leading up to meeting Eddie for coffee after Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding you’d been unsure. Eddie wanted to talk. Had to get things off his chest. And you’d said, or, had written in your case, that you’d go to meet him. But you were so very unsure about the whole thing.

You were very hesitant. Completely in two minds. On unsteady footing. Wobbly legs. Constantly all up in your head, overtaken by thought and hesitation. Yes, you were going to meet Eddie for a coffee because, why not? But no, you really shouldn’t go to meet Eddie, should you? Especially not after regret found you fast after what you’d done. It was sort of waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, where you spotted it in a huge mirror and it kind of scared you.

The person staring back at you was someone who just cheated on her boyfriend. With Eddie. Who was still upstairs, in Nancy and Jonathan’s bridal suite. Asleep.

Regret.

It immediately made you want to sneak back upstairs and take that note that you’d left. You should have never fucking done that. Everything about it had been delicious, but, at what cost? Thank God you at least looked fine. You’d been on top for a reason; not a hair was out of place. No one was to suspect anything had happened.

“Hey,”

Except maybe Steve.

“Where’s Eddie?”

You looked at Steve in the large mirror as you smoothed out your dress, and you didn’t really know what to say. You didn’t want to lie to your friend, but you could hardly tell him the truth, could you?

“Where’s Matt?” 

You omitted Steve’s question with one of your own, as if knowing where Matt was at influenced the answer you’d give him. It would, actually, but that’s not what you wanted Steve to think.

Too late though.

Steve looked at you a second before answering, “Joyce has got him in a death grip, actually got him onto the dance floor– hey, are you okay? Did Eddie leave?”

“I’m fine,”  you smiled, turned to Steve and tried to let your smile reach your eyes. “We talked.”

You did talk. Well, Eddie talked. Eddie got to say a lot of things, needed to get things out that you only half-listened to.

“Long talk,” Steve raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue. The judgment coming from him made you roll your eyes.

“Yea, well, there’s lots of things to talk about, isn’t there?”

You walked past Steve, ready to get back to the party, but Steve grabbed you by the arm before you could.

“You wanna be honest with me?”

“Steve,” you pleaded, not wanting to get into it. The ‘not now’ followed unspoken, silently. You were trying to do your best to keep all the bad feelings at bay. Everything was so fun a minute ago, you’d been so in control of everything. High on power. Where had all of it gone all of a sudden? You realised just then how fleeting all of it had been.

“Where’s Eddie?” Steve asked again.

“Upstairs.”

Steve’s expression fell and his grip loosened in surprise. You took your chance to escape him and power-walked as fast as your heels could carry you, back into the solarium. You saw Steve enter seconds after you did and were glad he hadn’t gone up to find Eddie but had instead decided to stay out of it.

Smart man.

Smart men minded their business.

But then you saw him walk over to Robin and nod his head before stepping outside with her following his tails. There was no way they weren’t going to talk about you. But, so what? They could talk. You made the conscious decision to not care, because your boyfriend, the very one who didn't dance, was on the dance floor, getting instructions from Jim Hopper as Joyce tried her best to get him to follow her lead. They had every onlooker in stitches.  

Then suddenly something panged in your chest and realisation dawned.

Matt was too good for you.

You didn’t deserve someone like him.

Fuck.

Look at that goofy goober. There wasn't a bad bone in that body.

You were going to have to tell him. Tell him everything. Oh no, and he fucking loved Eddie too. Loved Corroded Coffin. Matt was such a fan, and you had just... ruined all of it, hadn’t you?

Shit.

You saw Hopper applaud proudly, booming voice going, "You got it, kid!" when Matt got something right, and he laughed as Joyce encouraged him, praising him for even trying with her at all.

Yea. You were going to have to tell him.

Not today, though. But soon.

Your coffee meeting with Eddie hadn't gone like you had expected. You hadn't known what to expect at all, really, but you had never anticipated for Eddie to be quite so brutal. So toxic. In a way it helped, because it just proved to you that Eddie was still Eddie, no matter how honest and up front he was now.

He was just sober now. Had a bit more insight and knew how to use his words right.

Walking into the coffee shop, you saw that Eddie was in disguise, already sat at a table in the far back. He had his hood up and was wearing sunglasses indoors which inadvertently only pulled more attention towards him, but it was whatever. It's what celebrities did, and sometimes it genuinely helped, so Eddie wore the uniform of a rockstar that didn't want to be bothered. You got yourself a coffee and sat down opposite him.

You kept your coat on and gave a tight lipped smile as Eddie removed his sunglasses and reached across the table to grab onto your forearm for a moment in greeting as he smiled warmly. Eddie seemed a little nervous, but excited to see you.

You were distant. Cold. You needed to be, because for seven agonizing twenty-four hour days you'd thought of everything Eddie could say that held potential to reel you back in, and you weren't going to do that to yourself.

Eddie wanted to talk. So you were going to let him talk. Talk, listen and then leave. That was the plan.

And so, Eddie talked.

Eddie talked to you with a tilted head, apologetic scrunched up eyebrows and hands that reached to touch you every time he mentioned you. Eddie talked and forgot all about his coffee.

He spoke of childhood trauma that shaped him, his attachment issues, his inability to root anywhere properly and of finding solace in familiarity. How he looked for escapes, easy fixes to cure him from the outside in, and how awful he felt about everything he'd ever done to everyone to make them feel bad.

"Especially you."

You had a hard time looking him in the eye, studied your coffee instead.

"I know you don't owe me anything... not your time, not your friendship, not your love... you owe me nothing, but, please let me give. I want to give, you deserve everything that I never gave before, and I want to give it to you now."

You could tell Eddie went to therapy. These were beautifully crafted words for you, but you didn't want to let them in. Didn't want to let them touch you. Didn't want to let them come even slightly close.

"I'm glad you're better now," was the first thing from your lips. Besides small nods and tight smiles, you hadn't said anything yet.

"I really meant everything I wrote in the letter I sent,"

You nodded slowly, then took the last sip of your coffee and looked at your empty cup for moment. Eddie took your silence as an invitation to repeat the things he'd written. After listening to it for a few seconds, you cleared your throat and interrupted him.

"You don't have to–... I read your letter. I know what it said."

You sounded colder than you intended, and winced inwardly. But maybe it was good that you came off extra harsh, because you saw it take effect immediately.

Eddie's jaw tensed as he sat back in his chair a little. He looked at you a moment, then asked, "Have you told him?"

Matt.

"There's nothing to tell," you shrugged, and it made Eddie scoff. He looked around the room, as if to check if anyone else was hearing this. Nothing to tell? Come on. There was plenty to tell.

Eddie reached into his pocket and retrieved a note. Your note. The note you had left on the pillow that said you'd go have a coffee with him.

"This was cute," Eddie held it up between his index and middle finger, then flung it onto the table where it landed in between you.

You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked at your handwriting.

"So, um, thanks for this Eddie, good luck with–"

"Whoa... hey, you're not just leaving?" Eddie sat up in his seat.

"We've had coffee. You wanted to talk, and you talked."

"But... no, wait, that's not– we slept together a week ago,"

"Shut the fuck up," you panicked, hissing through your teeth as you ducked into your shoulders and looked around to check if anyone had heard him.

"Tell me," Eddie sat up, moved in closer, both elbows back on the table. "What do I need to do to make it right?"

You blinked at him, a little dumbfounded.

"You putting that on me?"

"No, I– I just... I'm just asking, is there anything you think I could do or say that will fix everything I've done?"

"That's a big ask, I don't think so,"

"There's gotta be," Eddie said, confident. "There is. I'm gonna figure it out." and he sat back, legs spread wide with a disgustingly smug look on his face.

There he was.

Therapy and sobriety could do a lot, but it couldn't erase the man that Eddie had become over the past few years.

"Okay, well... enjoy that. I'm gonna go, good luck with... I don't know, life, in general–"

And as you got up, Eddie suddenly shot a hand out towards you and grabbed you by the wrist. For a small moment, you saw 17-year-old Eddie stare at you pleadingly. He almost looked... scared.

"I can't, Eddie..."

You thought of what else to say. Something good, to make him feel better. Something sweet, to make him smile, maybe. But then all you managed to say was,

"I'm sorry."

And with that, you gathered your things, turned your back and walked out. The second you were out of Eddie's sight, you broke, face scrunching up as you let the tears flow freely.

You were going to have to tell Matt. Tonight. You had to.

But then you didn't, did you?

Because what were you going to tell him?

"Hey remember that celebrity that you really love? Yea... same."

You couldn't.

And so, you didn't.

Until a few days later, Eddie called whilst you were at work. A classic move. Eddie knew you wouldn't be able to pick up. Knew he'd catch your answering machine instead. He wanted to leave a message.

"I know I'm not supposed to be calling you, I know this is stupid and I'm crossing all sorts of lines and boundaries, and I'll probably make things worse, but, fuck... what else am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing ever happened? Pretend that I don't think of you every second of every single fucking day? I can't... I don't know how I'm supposed to... that's not– I don't even want that to be an option. I don't want to pretend that having sex with you,"

Eddie paused. Sighed.

"That wasn't just a casual fuck, that was– we used that bridal suite for what it was meant for, I don't care if you don't want to hear it. That was making love. Shit, I fucking love you, I need to... You gotta– what do I have to do, you gotta tell me. There's gotta be something. There's–"

The phone suddenly clicked.

"Hey," a male's voice answered Eddie.

"Is this um... is this Eddie Munson?"

Just over a week after you and Eddie had met for coffee, Steve was meant to meet Eddie ahead of a Corroded Coffin gig. Small venue, not far from where Eddie lived, and they were going to get Indian food. That was the plan. But then Eddie didn’t show, and Steve waited for thirty minutes before asked if he could make a call.

No one answered.

Worry shot over Steve, because Eddie had been good. Eddie had been really reliable these past few months. They didn’t meet up often, but when they did, Eddie would check and confirm their plans several times. Eddie made sure to not fuck up anymore, to be there for his friend, to make this right and prove to himself and to everyone else that he was doing better now. That he was sober and present and better.

But thinking of it now, Steve hadn’t heard from Eddie since they said they’d go for Indian food ahead of the gig Steve was going to attend. That was well over a week ago. He contemplated for a minute but then decided, fuck it, and left the restaurant. Something wasn’t right.

When he rang Eddie’s doorbell, he was buzzed in pretty quickly and it gave him a little hope. Maybe Eddie had just forgotten. Had gotten stuck in a song writing mood where he’d forget all about time and space and was just creative. In the flow. Spaced out, but in a good way. Steve crossed his fingers that Eddie was spaced out in the best way.

But stepping out of the elevator, he walked past a sketchy dude, the type of smug, criminal-looking guy Steve would usually steer clear off, who he saw had left the door open to Eddie’s luxury apartment.

Inside Steve found Eddie on his couch, expressionless, sort of dead-eyed. He didn’t even look up until Steve accidentally kicked a glass bottle that clattered loudly against the floor tiles, and even then it didn’t really seem like Eddie was fully in his body.

“No, no, no, no… Eddie, what the fuck,”

There were fresh coke lines on the table in front of Eddie and bottles just, everywhere. Some empty, some still somewhat full.

Fuck.

Eddie had relapsed, and he had relapsed hard.

The place looked ransacked, like Eddie had partied for a full week and hadn't let the cleaners in. There was just, shit, all over.

Eddie barely even heard Steve, but there was a shimmer of recognition in Eddie’s eyes when he saw him, followed by a disconnected smile.

“Harrington,”

Steve had never seen anyone like this. In this state. He knew Eddie had problems with alcohol – everyone knew of the alcoholism, it had been widely reported before. Just like everyone knew of his stint in rehab. And sure, Eddie used to deal a little in high school. They'd get high on bad quality weed together on Fridays sometimes, but Steve never thought that Eddie was the type of dude to snort actual lines of cocaine off tables. Especially not in his own home. Especially not by him fucking self, alone.

Shit, Eddie had been so good. He’d taken responsibility for the bad things and he’d been so good about everything.

“Forgot about dinner?”

Steve knew logically Eddie probably didn’t know what time it was, or even what day it was. He was about to miss another one of his own gigs, for fuck's sake. But the mention of food did something to Eddie.

Steve saw Eddie grow green in real time whilst he stayed overwhelmingly calm.

He’s about to hurl, Steve thought, suddenly panicked because Eddie’s place only had expensive furniture, the type of stuff Steve could never afford. And Eddie remaining so deeply calm only fucked with him more, because, why wasn’t Eddie rushing to a toilet?

Eddie leant forward slightly, only a little, and was just going to throw up right where he was sitting, so Steve darted around, found a sort of long vase stood in a corner and planted it right in between Eddie’s legs. Eddie immediately started filling it up, emptying his full stomach contents until Steve was sure the vein on Eddie’s forehead was going to pop and his throat had to be absolutely aching.

“This isn’t… fuck man, what are you doing? What happened?”

Eddie spit into the vase a few times, wiped a hand at his watery eyes, then at his mouth and sort of... babbled something. Steve could barely follow any of it, none of the noises sounded like actual words, until he caught your name. Eddie said your name and Steve thought Eddie was about to throw up again, but instead, Eddie looked at Steve and seemed a little more present. Sad and fucking hurt, but present.

“Ed… you can’t be–”

A heartshattering sob burst from Eddie's chest.

Eddie broke down and let himself fall onto his couch, curling up into a ball as he cried. Maybe it was the realisation of it all. Maybe it was Steve being there and Eddie being able to see the sheer fear in his friend's face. Or maybe it was just that it had been six consecutive days of this bullshit and he'd barely slept.

Steve looked around, sort of… defeated. Everything was a mess. The apartment had drugs and booze all over. Eddie was drunk, had coke crusted around his nose, was sweating, was crying and was sick. It was all fucked up. He had a gig in two hours. Steve needed to call people. Steve needed to get help. Steve needed to call someone, get help and...

He needed to get rid of all of the shit.

If Steve was going to help, he needed to start with getting all the substances out.

“Here, come on,” Steve took hold of Eddie’s arm and pulled him up. Helped him into the bathroom and sort of, propped him up next to the toilet with his back pressed against the tub. Then placed a glass of water next to him.

“Small sips,” he instructed, not even sure if that really was what was best.

Eddie's cries sounded worse in the bathroom, and Steve didn’t know what to do. Eddie’s voice echoed throughout the whole apartment now and sometimes, it was just wailing that turned into more vomiting, but then other times they were words, things like, sorry, I fucked up, I can't, I don't and your name.

Eddie kept crying your name and it made Steve aggressively wipe at his wet eyes all angrily as he collected bottles and other trash into garbage bags.

When was this shit going to fucking end?

When Steve called you, you let the call go to your answering machine.

You'd been crying and didn't need to talk to Steve right now. You knew Steve knew. Had heard from Matt, who had probably told him everything. Steve would say things like, I told you so. And, you brought this onto yourself. Shit you didn't want to hear. Truths you couldn't really face right now.

But when you heard Steve's voice on the tape, everything changed in an instant.

Steve's voice cracked, like he'd been crying and he sounded desperate. Panicked. Completely stressed out of his mind.

"I need you to come over, I'm sorry... I didn't want to call you, but you need to– I need you. Eddie's been... he's relapsed. It's bad. I don't know what– how I can–"

The phone clicked.

"Steve?"

You'd picked up , and Steve sighed a breath of relief. You were both sniffing down the line.

"I'm sorry," Steve said again.

"Where are you?"

"Eddie's apartment. It's... you need to know it's bad." Steve's voice didn't leave any room for questions. This was serious business. Steve would never call you over to Eddie's apartment if it wasn't absolutely desperately needed for you to be there.

"I'm on my way."

You'd never been to Eddie's apartment before, but you knew exactly where it was. Knew to steer clear of the area. Avoided it at all cost for a very long time, and found stupid excuses when Matt asked about it.

Steve buzzed you in and waited for you outside Eddie's front door. He needed to warn you extra before you were going to walk in, but stepping out of the elevator in a frenzy, you didn't let Steve stop you.

Just waltzed right in.

But the apartment was quiet, and it was just... messy. Kind of disgusting, actually.

You'd already been crying, emotions had been running high all day, so tears found you fast as you clasped a hand over your mouth. Steve caught up with you, said that he'd been cleaning for a little while already, but he didn't know what to do with the cocaine on the table, or the pills he found in the kitchen.

You sort of looked around in silence together for a moment.

This was insane.

You were scared Steve was going to say anything about Matt. About Matt finding out. About you and Eddie fucking in Nancy and Jonathan's bridal suite. But Steve said nothing of the sort.

"Corroded Coffin was meant to be on stage in an hour," with a broom in hand, Steve was a little relieved to now share the burden of all the horror he'd walked in on. He'd also called Eddie's manager. Said Eddie wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make it. Everything told Steve that his manager knew. Understood. But nothing else was said, nothing about drinking, or drug use, and Steve thought that maybe they already knew, because Eddie also hadn't shown up for sound check.

"Where's Eddie?"

Before Steve could say anything, you heard someone cough and retch. Bathroom.

"Wait, stop," Steve tried, but it was to no avail.

You found Eddie, arms folded over the toilet seat, messy head of hair resting atop, heaving.

"My baby," you sighed upon the sight of him, voice cracked, immediately crying. My baby? Where the fuck did that come from? Somewhere deep within, you thought. It pained you on its way out, you could feel it pull up from the pit of your stomach.

Steve frowned at it. He hadn't called you over to let you fall back into old patterns.

Eddie heard you and dove down deeper into himself, moved away a little, but remained on the toilet seat still. Refused to look at you because you weren't meant to see him like this. Ever. Pathetic excuse of a person.

"Eddie?" your voice was soft, small and high-pitched as your throat constricted with emotion as you kneeled down next to him. Eddie turned away, and when you reached a hand to softly touch, not to startle, but to comfort, you felt Eddie was shaking.

Steve stood in the door of the bathroom and looked at his two friends. The two people who'd been his best friends for a long time. One hiding his face into his arms over a toilet bowl, the other now moving from her knees onto her butt to sit with him, resting her chin on the other side of the toilet seat, one hand touching his arm, thumb slowly rubbing dry skin, waiting for Eddie to acknowledge her presence. One of them pretending they weren't even there, the other desperate for a connection to be made. Both quietly crying; your lip quivering, Eddie's shoulders shaking.

If this moment wasn't encased in the most awful, absolutely horrid circumstances, in a bathroom that could really use a fucking clean, Steve would've thought it was almost sort of romantic.

But it was bullshit, is what it was.

Seeing the two of you together like this, something dawned on Steve. Something that he somehow had always known was now staring at him, right in his face.

This was just like when you were 18 and Eddie had been sick after a house party where he'd been laughed at, had been ridiculed by some jocks. You'd sat with him all night until you'd both fallen asleep in the bathroom where you'd left mascara streaks on the floor tiles.

Or like when you'd been in a fight with your dad and Steve and Eddie found you on the steps of Wayne and Eddie's trailer. You'd hidden in their bathroom all night with Eddie on the other side of the door, softly talking to you until Steve decided, this wasn't what he'd come over to Eddie's for, and had gone home.

Or like when Steve had thrown you a surprise birthday party when you turned 19, but Eddie hadn't been able to make it because of work, and you'd just sulked all night. Steve had put so much effort into the preparations, and then, all throughout the party, he had put effort into cheering you up.

It was always the same type of shit with the two of you. Always so much effort. And it was just, never ending. This was who you were. Three friends who just... had a lot of bullshit happening, all of the time. You and Eddie always with the drama, and Steve kind of always there to help. It was always the same story. This was never gonna be over.

"Eddie, what did you do?" you whispered, and your voice revealed a little fear, but it carried mostly care.

"He fucked up is what he did,"

"Steve," you scolded.

"Wha–... am I wrong?"

Steve's anger built. Completely inappropriate, you thought. This was a delicate situation. A situation you'd been completely kept out of before. All those times you hadn't answered Eddie's phone calls all those months ago. All those times Steve told you that, Eddie was going to be fine. He was going to be fine, at some point. Get the help he needed. Get over whatever the fuck he'd been doing. You'd protected yourself and you'd listened then. Trusted that Steve was right. Gained strength in yourself and didn't allow Eddie to be a part of your life.

You had felt guilty then too, but... never like this.

This was the type of guilt that made you pick up when Steve called. The type of guilt that made you not even question going over to Eddie's apartment. That made you want to fix things. Fix Eddie. Fix all of it.

Guilt was the main emotion of the day. The real star of the show.

"Well? Eddie?"

Steve stood in that doorway still, broom in one hand, the other on his hip. Brow furrowed. He looked like his mom and his dad simultaneously, which, you weren't going to mention. You had no death wish.

"You've been crying out for her for over an hour, so I got her for you. She's here. Now what?" Steve spat.

Frustration and fear accumulated into this anger cocktail that Steve was spewing out at Eddie. Inability and helplessness, the complete not-knowing-what-to-do of it all that really didn't help. And now Eddie hid away and pretended you weren't even there and it rubbed Steve wrong.

Steve threw the broom he was still holding which landed hard on the bathroom tiles, making you flinch, before he left the two of you alone. Went back to the kitchen. Started furiously clearing counter tops. Had to not see you for a second.

"Eddie," you whispered, hoping that maybe he'd look up at you this time. Look you in the eye. You recalled how just over a week ago you'd been so dismissive of him. Heartless. Tried your best to come across it, at least. When you still thought that if you let Eddie in, he'd come between you and Matt, not realizing that... Eddie had sort of always been in between you and Matt anyway.

Cold and heartless was not the version of you that Eddie needed right now. And it wasn't the version of you that you wanted to be for him.

Eddie made small noises. You thought maybe he was going to say something, but then you saw his whole torso tense up, making Eddie hunch his back as he threw up again. Your hands were fast to push back his hair, collecting it behind his head into a ponytail that you tied with a hair tie you found near the sink. It revealed his face to you. Bloodshot eyes. Pained expression. Wet from crying. Awful skin.

Jesus Christ, it had just been over a week.

Eddie looked dead if it wasn't for blotches of colour that heaving brought to his face.

Not much came out of him. It was mostly just bile, by now.

Eddie struggled through it, stomach muscles spasming, nose snotting, eyes streaming and you had curled yourself around him all the way, like a backpack, pressing a cheek against his shoulder blade. You held him like that for a while, not really knowing what to say, or what else you could do.

A sudden loud clang made you turn your head. You caught a glimpse of Steve walking away, a huge big stinking vase now placed behind you.

"Rinse that out," Steve called out.

Yes. Good. A task. You could help by rinsing out what was very clearly a vomit filled vase, but when you were about to get up, Eddie clasped a hand onto your forearm.

"Stay," Eddie trembled.

"I'm staying, not going anywhere,"

You squeezed Eddie, carefully, but tightly. He seemed to need it.

"Just gotta clean something. I'll do it in the bath, I'll be right behind you,"

Eddie breathed heavily, tried his best to control it, to relax his stomach and not let it spasm, and let go of you. Rinsing out the vase in the bath was disgusting, but looking at Eddie helplessly sat by the toilet still, you couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of wanting to take care of him.

Wasn't that what it had always been?

Eddie would come back to Hawkins to be taken care of. And you always took care of him without asking any questions. Loved it. Loved him. Just couldn't stand him leaving every time.

Vase clean and turned upside down to drip-dry on a towel, you turned back to Eddie, stepped closer to him and that's when Eddie reached back, took hold of your leg. Tugged your jeans, pulled you down, turned a little, found handfuls of your shirt and pulled and tugged until you were sat on the floor in front of him, legs curled around his hips and his around yours. Arms folded around his back, and his strongly around yours. Embracing each other, impossibly tight, clinging, like that would cure everything.

Eddie cried again, buried his head into your neck. He smelled really bad.

"You're such an asshole," you said, your own lips quivering again. You kind of meant it, but hoped it would bring a little comic relief too.

"I'm a fuck up," Eddie agreed.

"You're both bullshit," Steve suddenly deadpanned and it made the both of you turn your faces to look at him.

"I was thinking, I really shouldn't say anything, because who am I... you know? This isn't my business. But then, you made it my business." Steve rubbed his brow, frowning deeply, clearly annoyed.

"Steve, let's not–" you tried.

"No. Let's!"

Steve crouched down right in front of you, elbows on knees, eyebrows raised high and nostrils flared. This is what Steve did when he was angry and had things to say. He'd get real close before he'd scold. Would make sure that you really heard what he had to tell you.

"I don't care what the fuck is going on here right now, between the two of you, but I'm done with it. It's always the same type of shit with you, like I'm stuck in a loop and there's no way out! Fucking groundhog day!" Steve got back up, intimidatingly towering over you, both hands in his hair before he continued.

"I'm not gonna come 'round and listen to you bitch and moan about why Eddie left this time," Steve said as he gestured a hand at you. Then he turned to Eddie. "I'm not gonna tell you–" Steve suddenly closed his eyes, breath shaking, trying real hard to keep it together. "You can't even fucking look at me straight, dude,"

Eddie was still drunk.

"I'm not gonna do it anymore. You can figure shit out for yourselves. I'm done." Steve turned, was about to walk out, but you stopped him. Said, "Steve, he relapsed," like that magically excused everything. But Steve stopped in the doorway, turned his head a little and said, "Yea, but so did you. Eddie with alcohol and whatever his dealers will sell him. You, with him."

Steve walked away. You thought maybe he'd just go into the kitchen again, but when you heard the front door slam shut, you knew he'd been serious.

You looked at Eddie.

Steve was right. Eddie had no control over what his eyes were doing.

"Let's get you clean. Then, bed."

Eddie obliged. Happy someone took the lead for him. Happy you took the lead for him.

But Eddie wasn't so happy the next morning, when he woke up at 4AM, sheets drenched in sweat. He was fucking freezing. You hadn't been able to sleep much and had set up camp in a comfortable chair that you'd moved to sit closer to the foot of Eddie's bed, where it was easier to watch TV. Volume all the way down.

"You should leave," Eddie croaked when he saw you.

"You should sleep more,"

"Slept plenty," Eddie tried sitting up, but was quickly fought back into the mattress by his own nausea. The pain in his head, in his stomach... he knew just the fix for it.

"If you think you're going to be able to find anything, I threw all of it out. Vacuumed up whatever you had lying around, washed everything else down the drain." You said it a little shaky, unsure of how Eddie was going to react.

Eddie thought for a second. He could definitely stick his nose into a dusty dirty vacuum, didn't feel like he was particularly above that type of behavior.

"There's nothing here, so go back to sleep," you were trying to fight off sleep yourself. Wanted to be awake in case Eddie would... in case something would happen.

Three days passed where you didn't leave the apartment. Three scary days and four scarier nights of caring for Eddie, never knowing if what you were doing was right, but doing them anyway.

You cleaned, finished Steve's job and made the place look tidy. Mess free. Aired it out, let Eddie complain about the cold that you skillfully ignored as you worked. You'd thrown all of it out. All the booze, the pills, the coke, the one discarded dirty syringe you found that you really hoped somebody else had used - you'd gotten rid of everything.

You asked Eddie if he wanted water, tea or a nap every time you caught him awake. And every time he'd sort of, frown at you. Didn't need your soft care, just needed a bit of... anything to take the edge of, but then, he always took you up on it. Always had a sip of water, maybe a little bit of tea and then would lay back down, always tried to go back to sleep.

Eddie slept a lot, but pain would wake him at odd hours. Always covered in sweat. Always shaking. Sometimes you'd worry he'd be sick again, but he'd growl he was just hurting.

Anger seeped out through his skin, and you knew it was never aimed at you, but you'd secretly cry once Eddie would drift off again.

On the second night you'd stayed over, you'd woken up on Eddie's couch around 1AM, went to check on him, and found Eddie drinking his mouthwash in the bathroom.

"Eddie?"

"Oh, shit, fuck–" Eddie scrambled to close the bottle, to hide it from you.

"What are you..." you took a small step back, scared of what you were witnessing.

"Don't leave," Eddie said, voice already cracking, afraid that you'd actually walk out now.

You took another small step back which urged Eddie to launch himself at you, arms encasing your strongly, Eddie's damp body pressed harshly against yours in an uncomfortable hug. One you didn't participate in.

"I'll get you a change of clothes," was all you managed to say when you felt how clammy he was.

Eddie sobbed and muttered things about how pathetic he was as you helped him freshen up. You sat him down in a chair as you changed his sheets. He had to stay close, couldn't really be trusted to be left alone, not even in his own apartment, apparently.

"Go back to sleep," you said when you'd finished, and you wanted Eddie to lay back down in bed so that you could sit in that chair he was sat in now, and watch him. Hold guard. But Eddie sort of looked up at you, and you thought he was going to say something. Something sweet, maybe. Something important. But then you both heard his stomach churn, and Eddie had to make a run for it.

He threw up the mouthwash, bright blue vomit clattered into the bath. Eddie seethed with anger, told you to leave him alone. "Don't want you to see me like this," he cried, and he promised he wouldn't touch the rest of the mouthwash, but yelled at you as you washed it down the drain with shaking hands.

Eddie cried. Vomited until it was all bile again, and you urged him to eat.

"Eddie, what if you die?"

"I won't fucking die,"

"You drank mouthwash!"

Eddie retched more, unable to stop it and unable to quite believe people could feel pain like this.

"You wanna go back to rehab?"

Eddie looked at you as if to say, is that a threat? You looked at him, and your expression read that it was a threat. Eddie didn't want to go back to rehab. Really, really didn't. Couldn't have you near him, but absolutely couldn't have you far. He reached for you, scared fingers dug into your skin, and you held him whilst he held on.

On the third day, you'd gotten Eddie to have a little soup and a few bites of an apple slice. Quite a bit of water, too, and Eddie seemed calmer then. Seemed to finally have snapped out of his mood.

You sat up on top of the covers in bed with him, and put on Pretty Woman.

"I'm not watching that big mouthed wench," Eddie had objected. Didn't want to watch romantic comedies with you. Happy people with happy faces and huge fucking smiles.

But you pretended you hadn't heard him, kept the movie playing until you were both sat against Eddie's headboard leant into each other, Eddie's head resting upon your shoulder and your cheek pressed into his hair.

This was nice, you thought. Almost like old times, a little.

Eddie would cramp up in waves. He'd be fine for a while, lucid, and present, and then suddenly, he'd be writhing. You always had a bucket ready, and helped him through it. Eased him back into his pillows, and would climb back into bed next to him. Always over the covers.

It was awful, but this was the process, you thought. It was complete misery, all kind of gross and disgusting, and Eddie was mortified but grew clingy. Needed you there. And so you were, but always over the covers.

That was, until Eddie, when the movie was nearly finished, groaned a little. His face was blotchy, eyes all red rimmed and his hair a tangled mess. You forgot what Eddie looked like without his bangs stuck to his forehead. He always seemed to be wet.

"You all right? What do you need? Water? I can make you more soup,"

"No, I'm just... cold,"

Eddie let his teeth chatter, and you looked around the room for a second.

"Eddie, it's fucking boiling in here,"

"Can you turn the heating on?"

The heating was on.

You took a good look at him. He didn't look as grey as he had a few days ago, but he still looked miserable. Sick like you'd never seen sickness before.

"I'll run you a hot bath,"

You helped Eddie ease into the water and sat on the ledge behind him, Eddie between your legs, so you could wash his hair. Eddie always loved it when you washed his hair, would really melt under your touch as you massaged soapy suds into his curls. But, his hair was one bit bird's nest, and so now, it was an agonizing job that needed doing. You were as gentle as you could be, but Eddie would wince as you worked to detangle the matted mess in the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, baby,"

"Why does everything hurt so much?" Eddie let his arms wrap around your calves and broke your heart as he silently cried.

Eddie let you wash him until he was all clean and then let you braid his hair after. His hands hadn't left your body since you'd helped him into the bath, and you hoped that it meant that he was over the hump. That this was a turning point, and everything was going to get better now.

That night, you'd slept with Eddie under the covers. You big spooned him. Held him tight. Whispered that everything was going to be fine, and the fact that Eddie didn't seem to be so sweaty confirmed that you were probably right.

It was all going to be fine.

At some point, Eddie turned and tried to kiss you. He pressed his lips onto yours, and for a second, you sort of let it happen. Let your mouths brush together. But it didn't feel right. Eddie was vulnerable, and you were exhausted, and it all felt wrong. So you stopped it. Broke the kiss. Moved your head away a little.

"Let me love you," Eddie whispered. "Let me love you like you always love me,"

"Later, Eddie. You're unwell,"

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine," Eddie's voice cracked.

Beautiful words that made your chest swell. But these weren't things to dive into now.

"Later, baby. These are things for later."

You didn't reject Eddie, but to Eddie, it felt a little like a rejection, and he buried his face into your neck. Hid in there and kept it there, all snuggled up, until you both fell asleep.

The next morning you stirred awake at 8AM which really felt like sleeping in at that point. Eddie was bone dry. No sweat. No tears. You even detected a little colour in his cheeks.

It was time. Eddie had eaten, had managed to keep it all inside and so, it was time.

You'd done enough.

Home.

You slipped out, wearing one of Eddie's T-shirts still, and didn't leave a note. No dumb, stupid note. None of this was cute, or funny, or in any need of a sad little note that Eddie could keep and then throw at you later. Or, like you'd done, could keep in an old shoe box with other stupid things that you couldn't just get rid of.

You just left. Went home. Sort of trusted that you'd see Eddie later. Maybe. If he really had changed, was willing to at least try to change, like he'd said.

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine."

You wanted it to be true so badly, but his actions were going to have to speak louder than his words.

You forgot what would be awaiting you at your apartment until you actually stepped inside and were greeted by your own mess. Drawers pulled open, half your clothes on the floor, big empty spaces left where Matt's things used to be. Slapped down and broken picture frames - completely your doing, not Matt's, but glass had shattered and you'd just... left it. You had even ran a bath for yourself, and then had let the soapy water sit and grow cold, because you didn't really deserve a bath, did you?

You remembered how you'd found Eddie's voicemail message two days after he had left it, listened to it with Matt in the room, and listened to it until you heard Matt pick up the phone. The tape had caught his voice, but then it cut off. Matt knew now, but Matt was just as non-confrontational as you were, and had known for two whole days. Hadn't said a word. But the truth had now been spoken into existence with the both of you looking at each other, and there was no way either of you could pretend still. Could pretend to not have heard it. Could deny any of it.

"What else did he tell you?"

It was the worst question to ask Matt, because it revealed there was more to your and Eddie's story than you'd ever told him.

"Enough," was all Matt said, never elaborated.

So, that was it then.

You'd sat on your couch, sort of dazed, stared into space, not even able to really cry even though this was a situation that deserved tears. Then Matt slowly started packing up all his things around you. Matt had stuff all over, hadn't technically moved in with you, but really only ever spent one, maybe two nights a week at his own place. Matt didn't move around with anger, but left the place messy, dropped your things on the floor without caring to pick up after himself. Good, you thought. Stand your ground, Matt. I deserve shittier treatment.

Just before Matt had walked out, he'd said, "If it had to be someone, it's pretty cool that it was Eddie Munson."

It was just like you'd fucking said all along: Matt was too good for you. You didn't deserve someone like Matt.

Self-hatred, absolute vile loathing of every single aspect that build your person, completely consumed you. Regret. Shame. So much guilt. You felt like you needed to hurt yourself because Matt hadn't hurt you enough. He hadn't yelled, hadn't shouted, hadn't said mean things. You only started crying once Matt was gone, and that alone added to all you had to be embarrassed about.

And then Steve called and offered you the greatest distraction of all. Eddie needed taking care of. And Steve was going to let you.

Back in your home now, it all came flooding back, and you sort of fell into the same state you'd been in then. Slumped back on your couch. Crying. Drowning in a weird version of self pity, sort of overwhelmed with how shit it all was. Steve mad. Eddie a mess. Matt gone. You empty. Alone.

You just sat like that. Stared into space, tears running all the way down your neck into the collar of one of Eddie's T-shirts you were still wearing.

Then, your doorbell rang.

You looked at your buzzer a minute, not really moving.

It rang a few more times, until it stopped.

A little bit later, footsteps followed on the stairs, and then, a knock on your door. A muffled mention of your name.

"Eddie?"

You got up, opened the door and found him there.

"I rang different doorbells until someone let me in," Eddie explained, but you didn't really react to that.

Eddie was here.

Actions were going to have to speak louder than words.

He was here.

Eddie looked over your shoulder, behind you, eyes scanning your pigsty of an apartment.

"Oh, shit," he commented, looked at your tear-stained face that was still staring up at him, gaze empty, because that's how you felt. All empty.

"Okay. Come on, your turn. Go sit down." Eddie took you by the shoulders and guided you back to you couch where you let yourself fall back on your spot.

"Tea?" Eddie asked, and then answered for himself, "Tea."

Eddie made you tea. Then started tidying. Cleaning. Just started putting everything in places where he thought they belonged. Did things wrong, but you didn't correct. He took broken picture frames, threw out shards of glass and tucked the photographs into a drawer. Ran a laundry after. Emptied the bath and rinsed and scrubbed the soap rim the water had left behind. Dishes next.

Eddie was sweating, more than was normal, and you knew he was struggling still. Probably felt sick to his stomach. But he was here, and for the first time in for fucking ever, you felt your battery charge with Eddie there. Eddie was charging your battery instead of draining it. Weird, but this was it. The thing. Eddie said there had to be something he could to do fix it. This was it. Eddie was fixing it.

Eddie saw you had three messages waiting on your answering machine, then told you, "Hey, you've got three messages waiting on your answering machine. Want me to play them for you?"

You nodded.

They were all from Steve.

"Hey, are you still not back home?" followed by a heavy, frustrated sigh, "You're going to end up killing each other, you know that right?", then a silence, followed by a loud beep.

Second message.

"I hope you're not answering because you're at work, and not still wiping vomit of Eddie's chin..." a beat, then, "You're like the wrong sides of two magnets who try to keep pushing themselves together. It's not gonna work!" another loud beep.

Third message.

"If you're not answering because you don't want to talk to me, I get it... I shouldn't have called you over to Eddie's place, I didn't know what I expected to happen, but... I spoke to Matt, just that afternoon, and he... sort of explained what happened, and, seeing you and Eddie be all cutesy– it made me mad for him. Matt's a good dude, you know he didn't deserve that... but guess what he said? He was like, this is going to be the best story ever – Eddie Munson stole my girlfriend. Can you believe that?" Steve fell silent for a second, then said, "Sorry I yelled at you. Please call me back when you get this... I'll call again tomorrow if you don't."

Loud beep.

No more messages.

Eddie just looked at you, tried to gather your reaction, but you were giving him nothing.

"You OK?"

With your eyes trained on your coffee table, you gave your head a tiny shake no.

"You wanna nap? Lay down for a little bit?"

They were words you'd said to Eddie many times over the past three days. Instead of answering him, you slumped sideways, rolled yourself up in a little ball, knees against your chest. Eddie immediately stepped closer, took a throw blanket and tucked you in.

"Can I lay with you?"

Eddie hovered, but you didn't answer. Couldn't answer, your throat had closed up with all these negative emotions, all of them aimed at yourself. You didn't deserve softness right now. So then, Eddie didn't lay with you, but instead sat down in a chair. He could just sit there while you slept. Not touching, but, he was close. That was all he wanted, anyway. To be close.

You woke up when your phone rang.

Eddie was quick, tiptoed to the phone as fast as he could and hoped it hadn't woken you up.

"Hello?" he answered, voice hushed.

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then, "Munson?"

"Harrington," Eddie smiled a little smug smile, happy he caught Steve on the phone.

"Yea?" Steve asked, and Eddie knew what he meant. "You're actually doing this?" Steve challenged.

"I think we might be... well, I am, anyway. We'll see if she'll let me."

Steve laughed, but it was humorless. It said, yea, we'll see about that dipshit. Eddie understood. Therapy had made him understand that everything was going to need proof. He'd ruined trust with everyone. This was nothing new, especially not now that he'd relapsed.

"I swear to God, Eddie. I'm not-"

"I know. I heard you the first time."

Steve scoffed.

"You seemed pretty out of it then,"

"I was," Eddie confirmed. "But you were very clear,"

"No fucking it up, Eddie,"

"I won't."

"Remember? Be mindful."

Oh, Eddie remembered.

"Hey Steve?" Eddie swallowed, knew his words weren't enough, but needed to say them anyway. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, and, um... thank you... you didn't have to, you know... just, thanks."

"You're good. Is she there?"

Eddie turned around and saw you were awake.

"Just woke up, hang on - it's Steve, you good to talk to Steve?"

You held a hand out as you sat up, knowing the cord could easily make it to your couch, and Eddie passed you the handset as he sat back down in his chair.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing out of your mouth, voice all strained.

Steve was silent for a second. He couldn't just accept that and move on.

"You were right. I'm total bullshit," you admitted.

"Hey," Eddie frowned.

"Sorry, we're total bullshit,"

That wasn't what Eddie meant, but that did make him smile. You heard Steve sigh.

"You're not bullshit. I actually think, and this is going to sound fucking wild coming from me, but I talked about it with Robin and she agrees... I think you actually might just be perfect for each other,"

Eddie was close enough to hear Steve on the other end, and he placed a hand on your knee. Let you know he agreed, too. He really fully fucking agreed.

"Stop, you're going to make me cry," you joked, but actually meant it.

"You gonna let Eddie comfort you this time?" You could hear Steve's smile in his voice, could picture it perfectly and copied it.

"I think I might, he's doing a fairly okay job right now," you looked at Eddie. "You've done plenty, Steve,"

Passage of the token. Eddie squeezed your knee.

"I love you, but..." Steve searched his mind for the right words. "But, you're just... a lot, the both of you,"

That made you laugh. He was fucking right.

"Could you still handle, like... 50 per cent of me?"

Eddie leant over, whispered, "Ask him if he can do 40, I'll easily do 60,"

"40?" you asked Steve, and Steve laughed.

"30 and it's a deal,"

Eddie heard, loudly said, "I'm not watching romantic comedies with her, dude!"

"All right, all right. 40."

You laughed and loved how it felt to laugh together, all three of you. You couldn't remember the last time the three of you laughed together like this.

"Love you Steve,"

"I love you too. Hey, is it weird if I come over? We could do a late lunch, maybe?"

Eddie took the phone from you, said, "Yea, no, that's gonna be weird,"

"What? Why?" Steve was confused, but it only lasted a second. "Oh gross, you're going to be open about fucking now, aren't you?"

"Bye Harrington,"

Eddie didn't even properly hang up the phone, but had simply dropped it to the floor instead before moving over to kiss you.

He then fucked you right there on your couch.

Afterwards you'd looked around, had said, "We're even now," and Eddie had burst out laughing. "Oh no, sweetheart, we're far from even. Are you forgetting who caused you all this trouble?" Eddie said, and when you just looked at him. He then pointed a fat finger at himself.

"Yea, but, did you not reach for a bottle after what I said to you?"

You'd placed blame for his relapse fully with yourself, and Eddie gasped, couldn't believe you were actually being serious and hugged you close.

"Baby, I'm not the way I am because of you. It's because of all the..." Eddie waved a wild arm around.

You understood.

"Foundations for this shit show were laid long before I'd ever even met you," Eddie kissed into your hair. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me again. We're not even. I've got a lot more work to do, trust me."

And so you did. Decided you were going to trust him.

Eddie got more help. More therapy. More AA meetings. More keeping busy with other hobbies, like cooking. And baking. He made sure he'd see you every day, would never stray too far, even though you literally lived above and worked in a bar... this was never going to be easy. But Eddie had you, and he promised he'd take care of you and of himself.

You found a way to be together, and then, seemed to never not be together. Joined at the hip again, but without Steve this time 'round.

Steve came over all the time, though. Visited at least once a week. For lunch, or for dinner. To watch romantic comedies with you, and Eddie would join, just because actually, if he didn't focus on her mouth too much, Julia Roberts wasn't that terrible of an actress.

The band had taken a short break, and Eddie had decided they should be open with the public about why. Said it would actually help a lot if people knew about how difficult addiction could be. Would make it less of an awkward conversation whenever he had to explain to people he was actively practicing sobriety.

And Eddie did good. Got real good at all of it again. Had good days, and then good weeks. He felt more and more himself, and Wayne recognized it too. He kind of had his nephew back, said he'd missed him a lot and hadn't known if he'd ever really would get to see him again which had made Eddie cry.

Eddie was doing good, and Eddie knew a large chunk of it was because he had you now.

But then, after a few months of doing good, touring was back on the table, and Eddie immediately grew nervous.

Loneliness was Eddie's biggest trigger, and it wasn't being alone that was an issue, because on tour, you were never really one hundred per cent alone. There were always people all over. Everywhere. All the time. The real issue was the feeling of being alone, especially when surrounded by so many. Eddie's cure for this dull ache of loneliness had always been a lil' drinky drink. Just, a little sippity sip, a tiny little drop. Just one drink, you know, to take the edge of.

Eddie knew this about himself, and so, he was nervous. Scared. Sort of, riddled with anxiety.

You'd suggested some form of training. "We can sleep apart from each other for two consecutive nights, only call each other when we can find the time, just to try it out? See what that does? And then if that goes well, do three or four nights next..."

At 3AM on that first night, Eddie had snuck his way into your apartment and into your bed. Hugged you real tight, like he'd been gone for months.

"That was only a few hours," you'd croaked after checking the time.

"Few hours too many," Eddie'd whispered.

"How are you ever going to do this?" you were more awake then, wanted to have a talk. Face this head on.

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't cling to you so much," Eddie said, worried you'd judge.

"That's all right," you were quick to make sure he didn't feel any judgment. "I quite like being clung to,"

"I promise I'll get better at this,"

"It's going to take time," you warned, knowing tour started just over a month from then.

"Someday, I'll be better." Eddie snuggled closer, eyes closed, tired.

Someday didn't come fast enough, just like you'd predicted, and so, with some creative paperwork and serious conversations with your landlord, your boss, Eddie's management and the band, arrangements had been made.

Eddie needed you there. And you had your own thing, your own personal problems, serious issues, with Eddie leaving. So, it really worked out for the best for the both of you. The solution to both of your problems was one and the same. You were going to go on tour with them.

"Did I not tell you that you're perfect for each other?" Steve had said with a goofy smile when you told him.

You became part of the Corroded Coffin entourage, not with any other specific job than just... being there. It took a some adjusting, because Eddie was different when he was Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin. There were certain expectations, and Eddie felt like people wanted him to fall into his rockstar patterns, do the things he always did when out on the road. Go to parties, bring parties back to hotel rooms, invite who ever seemed like a fun time onto the bus, drink a lot. You had no idea how Eddie would've even done this if you hadn't been there and, you'd never tell Eddie this, but you were convinced that he probably would've killed himself.

You slept on the tourbus together, had tried to squeeze into one bunk together, but that was only really doable for naps. There wasn't enough room to even roll over without shifting and scooting your whole body when you laid in a bunk alone, by yourself, so doubling up was never comfortable for long. Not for the long stretch of rest Eddie needed after shows. That's when you'd sleep on bunks opposite each other. You would remind each other how many more nights until you'd share a hotel bed again, and then let the rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the bus lull you to sleep. You'd close the curtains to your bunks enough, but never all the way, always leaving a gap so you could see each other.

And sometimes, even the small distance between your bunks was too much distance, and Eddie would reach out a hand from underneath his curtain. You'd grab it and then you'd fall asleep holding hands that dangled in the middle of the walkway.

Everyone else hated it.

"This is worse than when they'd sleep on top of each other in one bunk those first few days,"

"Close your eyes and go to sleep, man. You don't have to look at it,"

Salty comments would come from bunks beneath you, and from behind your curtains, you'd smile sleepy smiles at each other.

Happy.

Eddie was so happy. So sure that this was it now.

Not perfect. Far from perfect actually. There were going to be hard days to struggle through, difficult moments he wouldn't know how to deal with.

But he knew you were going to be there. Was so very sure you'd be there. And he'd be there too.

Eddie was happy.

Had his past with you.

Cherished his present with you.

Felt sure about his future with you.

And that was all he'd ever really need. You.

the end

---

The Taglisted: 

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

[queersouthasian]

I have seen quite some people being confused about what was Charlie's plan or what he even intended to do, so here is the proper step by step explanation:

P.S : all of this is based on the show, nothing is influenced from the novel.

•Before (kind of) meeting Babe:

As Charlie had mentioned in ep 7, something I had stated before in some other post, his plan was not that extensive. Charlie while being in Tony's space came to know about all the shit he does including babe being the number one target and how Tony had an Enigma going after Babe. He jumped in thinking he would keep an eye on Tony while living with Babe or around babe and would find information about that Enigma too. He wanted to do everything alone but much to his concern,Jeff wanted to help. Anyways. His plan was to be around babe, keep on track with tony 'cause he knew he would find better information of what he is trying to do if he is near babe since babe is the target, find out about that enigma and eventually inform babe about everything when the right time comes. His plan was not to fall for babe or make babe fall either. It is his natural caretaker instict that made him want to save babe. He can't just live his life knowing that someone was in extreme danger. A part of me now believes he was not even supposed to take babe's powers either. He didn't know that babe would hire "boys" to have sex with, that's why he recommends him being his servant, 'cause his plan was to leave later when the time comes, and being "servant" would serve the purpose of being near Babe, BUT was genuinely taken aback when babe wanted to have sex. He was now worried 'cause how is he supposed to be intimate with babe without taking away his powers??? That's why he hesitated before touching babe, remember when he first put his hand on babe's face, he hesitated right there, he also gulped. He was worried and concerned, rather panicking 'cause he knows what happens when he touches. But the entire show is literally, "you can't have A and B, one has to go", so Charlie either had to leave or stay. Telling the truth was not the option 'cause babe wouldn't listen. Babe during that time was being heavily influenced by way, so why would he even think Charlie was telling the truth about his intentions? 'cause atp he was a literal stranger to him.

•After ep 7:

Charlie's plan was severely ruined by Kim, unintentionally, but it did happen. Kim revealing Charlie's main secret disrupted the whole plan. Charlie was not supposed to tell Babe all that before anything happened 'cause the result will be disastrous and we saw that. For babe, along with way 's hypnotism/manipulation, Charlie's secret/lie was a "betrayal" 'cause he didn't know the cause of it until Charlie told him. Here the plan was, when the right time would come, he would have revealed everything 'cause by then Babe would have first handed seen/witnessed/understood the reason, but this reveal being so soon, with the cause being so unclear made Charlie look like a traitor. That's why he had spill everything, every detail. Here, we see something else as well. Charlie had fallen so deeply for babe until now, he could not bare the thought of babe hating him, misunderstanding him. That's why he repeatedly goes after babe, to his very home, to let babe know the truth. He even tells everything about the absorption. He knows babe may never want to see him again, that's why he gulps and hesitates before saying. Babe could have never found out why his senses were gone, but he can't keep babe in dark anymore. If the truth was out, he needed to clear thing out, to atleast let babe know, Charlie would never take advantage of him. When babe turns his back, we see Charlie being terrified, he doesn't even look like that near Tony. He is TERRIFIED babe would hate him. So the hesitation, those unshed tears, the "I can die for you" 'cause AT THAT MOMENT, he was like fuck the plans, if babe wants his powers back, he will get it. Since the truth is out, and he couldn't still find the enigma, atleast let him give back babe's powers, 'cause babe is his priority. And Babe refusing that made Charlie give that genuine smile. It's the way Charlie has this relaxed face when he hugs babe, it's the face of someone who has been misunderstood for so long, finally having someone love him, understand him. The face of relaxation that his love doesn't hate him, would not leave him.

•Fake death:

This one came out later. When CharlieBabe started fighting together, now Charlie openly being able to protect babe, Jeff says if they continue to do that, they all will be killed. Listen, this was Jeff's analogy, he thinks that if they continue to go after tony, they all will die a brutal death. He also tells Charlie that Tony would kidnap him. This "kidnap" thing confirmed that Tony's target has been successfully shifted from Babe to Charlie. But Tony doesn't know that Charlie's powers are absorption and that he can return the powers once dead, so he, for the first time, gives complete responsibility to do something/prepare something that would help him fake his death. He wanted Jeff to look out for this, maybe because he knew since Jeff ran away before, he has some connections 'cause how or where did he live during that time?? Also he just wanted to protect babe, keep him safe and comfort him especially after whatever way did and we all know he blames himself for not doubting way before.

•After "Death" :

With the help of the drugs we see Charlie not only removing his powers but obviously being able to give babe's powers back. But babe going after Tony as a form of revenge is definitely something Charlie got to know through Jeff. One thing is clear that when Jeff gets kidnapped, Charlie calls him too, as usual, maybe to inform him that "uncle" is babe's dad and since Kenta had given away the phone to those boys, definitely they picked up, and since they picked up they definitely informed Charlie how they got the phone. Obviously Charlie connects the dots and goes in to save Jeff, but I believe when he entered the building the first thing he notices is Babe being beaten up, and Charlie being Charlie, enraged that they hurt babe, immediately jump in to save babe, that's why the look he had when he looked at Babe had concern but also grief and guilt, a "fuck I missed you sm", so in my opinion, even this sudden meeting was not a part of the plan. (Obviously the next ep has more information or may be not, so either I am right about this or absolutely wrong lmao)

Jeff and the timeline of his future sightings:

This goes like this:

Now, I remember someone saying how Charlie wanting to "change" future makes the future happen. And that's something interesting to think of, but that's not it. Charlie did not "Change" the future, he "Altered" it. Playing with time is dangerous, so the outcome maybe the same, but the cause can be different.

The "Death on Racetrack" car which was overturned was number "83", exactly the car Charlie was in, BUT in that vision, we all see the person laying face to the ground and blood everywhere. But that's not what happened to Charlie. If Charlie was the one who was supposed to be in the crash, in the "83" car, then the result and cause of THAT accident was different.

Babe going to avenge for Charlie would have been constant but the cause was different and most definitely the result would be. In the vision, we didn't see Alan, we do see CharlieBabe, with a gun pointed at them, but we see Tony with a sword attacking them, killing jeff. We also see Winner killed and Babe crying wounded. Don't know if the last two would happen, and if does what's the cause? But one thing is sure, that the result is altered. In their version, there is a shootout, and Kenta is the one who caught Alan and Jeff, we also see Pete and Way being involved. The future is unchanged, but Charlie's plan to alter it does infact work, he changes a version where they all loose to where they all can survive, where there is a hope to survive.

Also the "kidnap" thing, that would have happened, but in their version, they stated the plan to Tony, thus manipulating the outcome.

[ljz002-world]

Revenge, Part 3

This mission was taking longer than Y/N had expected it to be. What was supposed to be a one week maximal stay had turned into a several month getting closer to Thomas Shelby. And today was no other, Y/N sitting in Thomas’s office translating with the help of her typewriter while the man sat across from her by his own table. “Tell me Y/N, were you and your father close?” “Of course, I was a complete daddy’s girl. Why?” “I’ve seen your father in Verdun. First under the living, then under the dead”, Thomas said, “Do you want to know the exact date?” “Y-Yes”, Y/N stammered, she knew her father had been dead, but hearing it from his murderer’s words was another stab in the gut for her, “Your father was a brave soldier, he died on September 5th 1916.” “How do you know exactly?”, Y/N asked wanting to hear it from the man’s mouth , that he had killed him. “Well, on the fourth I still saw him fighting, on the sixth I saw his corpse.” Y/N nodded, biting back her harsh words, this Thomas Shelby didn’t even have the honor to tell it to her face, that he had killed her father. She had been ready to not brutally murder him for how kind he had been to her these past few months, but this, this blatant lie, made her want to use her teeth to rip out his throat so he could no longer tell lies.

“I’m sorry Y/N”, the Shelby man said surprisingly soft as he stood besides the girl and had put a hand onto her shoulder, “War was a hard time for us all.” “But you didn’t lose your father to it”, Y/N said as she looked up with teary eyes, “You made it back alive, he didn’t.”

Thomas nodded, “But I lost comrades, men I considered my brothers and friends, I buried so many of them.” “A friend or brother isn’t a father”, Y/N said as Thomas knelt down besides the girl’s chair, “Don’t say that Y/N. I know that you’re still hurt, but don’t talk my grief down because of your own.” He had somewhat forcefully taken her face into his hand, squeezing her cheeks together and forcing her to look at him. “Do you understand me? Do you, eh?” Y/N just nodded through the grip as Thomas let go of her before standing back up and straightening his vest as he walked back to his own desk.

“Can I ask a question mister Shelby?” Thomas just raised an eyebrow at the girl’s words, “Go on.” “Do you have a wife?” “No. Why?” “You’re a rich man, with a lot of influence and power, especially here, the ladies must be throwing themselves to you.” “They don’t.” “They don’t?” “They fear me. The whores like my money but fear me. My turn, do you have a boyfriend?” “I had one, but not anymore.” “Why not anymore?” “Caught him fucking another girl.” “And you didn’t like that, I assume”, Thomas said with a small smile at Y/N’s mischievous nod, “Well, let’s just say this, he won’t be able to put his dick into another girl anymore.” “Wicked thing.” “Nobody thinks I’m wicked Mr. Shelby. Just … opinionated.” Thomas smiled a bit as he looked at the girl across from him who was happily typing away.

“I have a job for you Y/N.” “Hm?”, she asked, turning her head to look up at Thomas a few hours alter. “I have business-partners coming around. They’re German, I’m going to need you to translate. Tonight, 7, at the Guiness in the snub.” “As you say Mr. Shelby.”

And Y/N was present at 7pm sharp in the snub, sitting besides Thomas Shelby as the two waited for these guests. “Look Y/N, the men I’m meeting are dirty men, real pieces of shit, I’m going to need you to stay professional, they might say things about you, or even try to touch you. Just ignore them, alright?” Y/N nodded, making a bold move and putting her hand over Thomas’ hand, “Just don’t let them get too close please.” “Don’t worry”, Thomas said calmly as the doors opened and two men entered the snug.

“Mister Shelby”, one spoke, in the heaviest German accent Y/N had ever heard, Thomas nodded and gestured to the chairs, “This is Y/N, my translator.” “Ich bin Y/N, seine Übersetzerin.” “Seit wann hat Thomas Shelby eine Übersetzerin?” („Since when does Thomas Shelby have a translator?“), one of the men asked with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seit in paar monaten. (“For a few months”)” Y/N spoke calmly before turning to face Thomas, “They’re a bit surprised that you have a translator but pleasured to meet you in person.” The dark haired man nodded, “Ask them what they’d like to drink.” “Herr Shelby wüsste gerne was die Herren trinken möchten”, Y/N spoke calmly as one of the men answered harshly, “Dich.” “Nein”, Y/N said, “Whiskey, Wein, Bier?” “What did he say?”, Thomas asked and Y/N answered the Shelby, “He said he wanted to drink me. I told him to choose either whiskey, wine or beer.”

At the end of their meeting the second man spoke up in perfect English, “If I were you, Mr. Shelby, I wouldn’t trust every word this supposed translator tells you when she’s translating.” “Y/N?”, Thomas asked Y/N who gulped as the two German men had left the snub, leaving Thomas and her all alone. “What?” “What did he mean by that?” Y/N held her head high while avoiding eye-contact, “They’re just trying to plant mistrust. Germany lost the war, they’re pissed that I’m working for you, and English-man. That’s all.” “Really?” “Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

[l0vergirlwrites]

you’re losing me ; matthew murdock

warnings: pure angst, swearing, matthew is kind of a douche,

song inspo: “you’re losing me” by taylor swift

your mouth felt dry. it was hard to swallow your fear. your skin felt hot. the room felt smaller than normal.

the tension in matthew’s apartment was growing thick, like a cold morning fog. he wore a scowl on his face.

“say something! you need to say something” he broke the silence, standing up from the couch to stand across from you in the kitchen, but you held a hand up to stop him.

“no,” you halted. “just… no” you croaked, hands gripping the countertop to hold yourself up. your knees felt weak, like they were jelly. adrenaline was running through your veins as your stomach dropped to your feet.

“y/n, you know i wouldn’t cheat… you know me, cmon” he shook his head, adamant that you’d believe him. but you weren’t so sure.

“do i?” you asked aloud, as if you were trying to get matthew to rethink his words.

“because the matthew murdock i know wouldn’t lie to me about trailing around the city with his ex? or would he? oh my god…” saying the words out loud made you cover your face in your hands, heart banging against your rips as it started spiralling.

matthew just scoffed at your behaviour, causing you to raise your head up. “what? what is your problem matthew?”

“i knew you wouldn’t understand…” you stopped listening after he said those five words.

he’s been like this for weeks now, acting like you hardly know him as well as the lover from his past—but he’d say it in such twisted ways. you knew it was her influence—the power she had over him was unbearably strong. but, a little part of your heart had hoped that he wouldn’t act like this—that your matthew wouldn’t diminish you like this.

you knew his daredevil work was important to him, as well as defeating the hand. but the way hes explaining it to you as if you were incompetent in comparison to electra made this your final straw. the dam broke inside you, & you couldn’t stand to have your heart broken again.

“stop,” you cut him off loudly. “just stop it. you’re losing me matt—i-i can’t listen to your bullshit anymore” your voice croaked again when you pushed yourself off the countertop, brushing by matthew’s body quickly towards the bedroom.

“don’t like what i have to say? you’re going to walk away? like this is nothing?!” matthew followed you, the scowl on his face ever so present in your mind.

“don’t you dare act like i treat our relationship as anything but a priority. that’s mean matt, & you know it” your voice was on the edge of being ice cold, it’s freezer burn itching matthew’s skin as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

you continued grabbing your purse. your keys. your wallet. your spare clothes. your phone charger. your toothbrush from his bathroom. you took it all.

“this is ridiculous” he deadpanned, walking over & grabbing your upper arm. “stop packing. don’t leave—“

“don’t touch me” you jerked away from his touch, pushing his hand off your arm in a flash.

matthew’s brows furrowed in offence. he was left speechless for a second.

“then talk to me!”

turning to face him, you elicited a sigh & crossed your arms. “okay, let’s talk”

“i’m unhappy. i feel lied to & pushed away as a second thought. i know you love me, but you act like you love her more—you let her sleep in my clothes on my side of the bed for god sakes matt… what do you expect me to do with that?!” you poured out your feelings to him, eyes glossy & head ringing with a headache as you gestured to your shared bed.

“she was hurt—she almost died y/n! what? do you want me to say i’m sorry for saving her life?”

“that will never justify you not being honest with me… especially when we’re engaged! why can’t you understand?” you stepped closer to him, crossing your arms tighter to your chest. your voice grew quieter with your last words, hoping you’d get him to see your point of view.

he still gripped his black mask in his left hand. it made you laugh internally. bet he wants to be out there than here right now….

“you’re hurting me matt… can’t you see where i’m coming from? or sense it? you’ll fight for her, risk your life for her… but you can’t fight for me? or choose me?”

matthew felt his heart drop as realization started kicking in, but he was stubborn. he didn’t want to be wrong about this. “i don’t understand—i was trying to protect you y/n… i-i…” unsure of what to say, matthew just stood there at arms reach.

tears were slowly falling down your cheeks as you scoffed at him this time. “you think lying is equal to protecting? not like this… definitely not like this”

“but you’re the one i’m marrying—i’m your fiancé. doesn’t that show that i choose you?” matthew’s point was valid, so you sighed in slight agreement.

“but, you’ve cancelled on me multiple times. you’re barely here! i sleep alone, cook alone, clean alone, shower alone… you’re only here when you need something for her. that doesn’t feel like you’re choosing me”

brushing past him again with your purse in hand, you walked towards the apartment door. “hey, where are you going?” he questioned, trialing behind you with determination.

“away”

“when are you coming back?”

the sound of your engagement ring being placed on the credenza echoed in the apartment. “i don’t know” you swallowed again when you took your hand away from your ring, knowing matthew wasn’t taking your action well.

“no—no. don’t go” he pleaded with you, his hand coming up to brush your arm but you stepped away.

your heart strings were pulling. you didn’t know it’d be this hard. “i can’t marry you if you act like you don’t want me—like you don’t love me. i’m not putting myself through that anymore” you had to turn your back to him because it got too hard to look at his melancholic expression.

he stood there like a statue—still with no movement. matthew wanted to pull you into his arms, tuck his head into your neck & keep you close. but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t. he had to let you go.

“you know, it’s kinda funny,” you commented with your hand on the door knob. “you fight your clients & you’ll fight for the city, but you can’t fight to make me stay, or prove me wrong… you’re just letting me go,”

you looked at him again, seeing how he was a shell of the man you grew to love over the last few years. this felt wrong—the whole situation felt so wrong. but you had to do this for you. he needed to get his life together.

“i just thought you’d try harder than this, murdock”

& with that, you pulled the door open & stepped out of the apartment with a heavy heart. matthew stood there stunned as he heard you push the elevator button, walk inside the compartment, & sigh when the doors closed.

he slid down the door frame, holding his head in his hands with his fingers tightly gripping his hair. he felt angry. disgusted with himself. but he felt even worse when he heard your quiet sobs from the elevator.

he lost you. his daylight—& now all matthew had was the loneliness of midnight.

you lost your daylight too, but you lost it a while ago.

[buckybarnesss]

Where did this idea that Chris Argent is the one Argent who cares about the code come from? He's just as bad as his wife, who wants to murder Scott for existing.

I feel like I have a completely different understanding of this that everyone else does. I like him BECAUSE he's a weak-willed jellyfish of a man. He follows orders, there's not much kindness left in him and it's only directed at his daughter. He's a liar who enjoys tormenting teenagers - he was willing to kill Derek and Scott even though he knew they hadn't killed anyone.

The entire point of the Argents is this corrupt family structure. "Women are leaders" they say, as they lie and gaslight Allison. "We don't kill innocents" they say, while shooting Derek and Scott for being outside at night.

How many times did they get it wrong and kill humans? We'll never know because of course they would just cover up the evidence. They were taking potshots at Scott and Derek and didn't even know WHO they were shooting at.

Literally none of them follow the code. They manipulated Allison into setting it aside. The code is bullshit.

"Chris would never torture innocents" bro what show were you watching, you think he didn't know Kate was sexually assaulting and electrocuting Derek?? He didn't seem that fucking surprised to see Erica and Boyd in his goddamn murder basement.

I feel like I am going crazy!!

you are so right.

what do i think of chris argent?

chris argent is compelling to me because he's not really that good of a person. he has deluded himself into thinking he is.

the indoctrination amongst hunters runs very, very deep. especially with the argents. he never fully becomes deprogrammed. gerard argent deeply damaged both of his children and that is the point. there is no happy ending for the argent family.

kate was gerard's golden child because kate was full tilt sociopathic and enjoyed killing. chris was the lesser of the two in gerard's eyes. we know that while chris did gerard's biding he hadn't been in contact with allison since she was three years old at the time of kate's "death". that tells you chris knew his father's influence was dangerous and corrupting. yet he still let it happen and watched allison be manipulated by his father and become like kate.

three children ended up in his murder and torture basement and the only one i can see him not fully knowing about is stiles because that was gerard's little game. he knew about erica and boyd, he knew what was being done to them and he allowed it. they hadn't done anything to anyone and again they were children. the same age as his daughter. her own classmates. trussed up in his basement.

his intimidates stiles, scott, jackson and derek more than once. people who hadn't done anything wrong. scott, jackson and stiles are all children.

chris also knew full well who and what kate was. he was in denial about it and ignored it. chris isn't a stupid man and i thought it was pretty clear throughout season 1 he had suspicions about kate so he's not even surprised when confronted about it code breaker. he's just disappointed.

he clings to the code because it gives him cover. it gives him a convenient excuse. he can wrap himself up in the code and declare himself a good hunter, not like the others, not like his father and sister when he is. the code is his self-delusion.

he changes because allison died and his code becomes the memory of his daughter. his shitty family and his lack of backbone led down a path that eventually led to her death.

yes allison's decision that night was her own but it was also reckless. why was the archer on the ground? why wasn't she high up like she'd been wise enough to do in frayed or in alpha pact? allison was desperate not only to save lydia but also to prove herself good and make up for her mistakes.

and even when he begins to change it's often conditional.

chris is an interesting character. i like him a lot actually but he's a fucked up person who makes many questionable decisions thought-out the series. he only looks good because gerard and kate are more terrible.

[mako-neexu]

“Y’know what? Someone really ought to stop Master. Because at this point? They’ll suffer somethin’ far worse than death.”

The Servants look at the young gunshooter with mixed expressions. Raised brows, tired faces, condescending smiles--

“And you don’t think her hundreds of Servants know that? Even Heracles once stopped Master from going out to train before pointing to her bed to rest a little more.” Hundred faces responds from the shadows, their outline barely visible against the dark corner.

“Of course I know.” The blond young man rolls his eyes as he watches their Master’s form clutching her hand with the command seals, screaming her Servants’ names as she lost them to the creature that advanced with terrifying speed.

What a mess. 

Even without thorough knowledge of magic, everyone could practically see that Fujimaru Ritsuka’s nervous system is barely supported by the hundreds and hundreds of blessings inside her body. 

At the same time, the lethal curses and poison inflicted by her own Servants just marginally fought back the impurities that do not belong to her body. 

What of her mental state? Billy catches sight of black flames rounding the corner, followed by a pair of bright butterfly wings.

Shit really is fucked if incomplete people, ghosts- weapons like them want to chain this human down to a bed and have them get a good eight-hours worth of rest. Vacation time outside of their bullshit shenanigans that cause the Master serious headache too.

Geronimo pursed his lips as he looks sadly at the Master who was crying yet growling out orders of attack, never letting her knees touch the ground with the Zemlupus boy protecting them from stray debris and onslaught, “All that we can do is support her no matter what. For that is her will, we must obey.” 

And as Servants with a contract, they are influenced by their Master to stand by her side even as something inside them keeps screaming to not let the single human who understood them like a mirror die.

“Billy the Kid, Geronimo, Kiyohime! You guys are up! Please head to the deck ASAP!” Da Vinci’s voice rang out from the intercom. Both Billy and Geronimo nodded to each other, before looking at the female berserker that donned a sad smile.

“In the entire time I’ve been here, not once did Master lie to me about anything.” She raises a hand to her heart, her amber eyes holding a kind of hurt they knew all too well, “Yet when I ask about her feelings and her thoughts, all she did was smile.”

And everyone in the room understood.

With a profound fondness for their friend, contractor, and Master, comes with a hatred that could rival the flames of hell itself. Hatred for her fate, for all the things she was forced to do, for all the things she was forced to become. The only thing they can do is grit their teeth and support their Master to the very end of her life.

Cursed to this kind of life, the only salvation they could think of for her is—

[misserabella]

PERFECT SIN

virgin religious!steve x noninnocent! reader

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

synopsis;;

Steve was a good boy. Was…

cw;;

sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent steve, references to the bible (algo unholy use of steve’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, dumbification, masturbation (m and f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own. (!!!!!)

word count;;

9k!

:¨·.·¨:

`·. lastly; enjoy!<3

‘ What do you want to do now? ’

Steve Harrington was a good boy. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t so drugs kind of good boy. And… he was really religious. He had always been. He accompanied his family to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based his reading on his worn bible before going to bed every night. At his eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing he had ever done was lie, and he made sure to swear that he’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since he was, once again, lying about the fact that he’ll be staying over one of his church friends’ when he was planted in front of the biggest party he had ever seen —the only one he had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Steve was a good boy, his best friend, Eddie Munson, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Steve seemed like a complete church boy with his button shirt tucked on his caqui pants and his school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —He looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of his…— Eddie looked like a rockstar, with his smeared eyeliner, long curly hair, black clothes and metal tees…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Eddie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Steve was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Eddie’s head when his mind convinced him on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting him out of trouble. They worked.

Eddie loved to hang out with Steve, always trying to make him do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And he thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Steve had acceded to go with him to one of those crazy parties he always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Steve didn't like it. He couldn’t help scrunching his nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making his glasses slightly fog.

Eddie laughed at his face, pushing one of his arms over his best friend’s shoulders and dragging him further inside with him. Steve felt as if the devil had took a hold on him and dragged him to Hell.

"Yo Eddie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Eddie was that he was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at him as the two of them passed by. Probably due to his incredible stash and weed. But either ways, he had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached him smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Steve wondered, to what Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Meth, Stevie. Meth." the brunette scrunched his face. He was well aware that Eddie was a dealer, he wasn't that stupid, he just didn't know much about it. And honestly, he'd like to keep it that way. Of course he was concerned for his best friend's well being, but Eddie had promised him that he wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was his way to go. "That's shit is selling like Benny's burgers." he shook his head, pulling him down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Eddie!!!" both of them turned to a blonde smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Robin!" he seemed just as pleased to see the blue eyed as her to see him. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around his shoulder fell when he stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Eddie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." he shook his head. "I like her." that only made Robin laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Steve's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church boy's face...Is this Stevie?" Eddie smiled as he nodded, surrounding his friend's shoulder with his arm again before pulling him flush to his side.

"In holy spirit." Steve pushed his hand away when his fingers dug on his hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Robin." he said, offering one of his hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving him a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" he felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as he nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Steve’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Steve thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Robin! Robin’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Steve’s eyes met a curly haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Robin chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Nancy!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Eddie laugh.

Steve looked really confused, shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Robin is gay. She’s dating Nancy too.” Eddie seemed amused by his reaction, which quickly faded. Was he surprised? Yeah. Gay people in the 80s weren’t really… out. But still, there were only a few people in there, and by the looks of it they were too high on some shit to even remember tomorrow so… Was he disgusted? Absolutely not. He didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Steve was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Steve eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, he met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From his position he could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Steve felt like he couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… He thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Eddie Munson?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the metal head beside him, who shrugged as he stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Steve’s heart tightened on his chest, your smile warming him up and making him feel all fuzzy inside. He was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” he pressed a hand to his chest, honored. “And who is pretty boy over there?” Steve felt like fainting when your eyes met his body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Eddie pulled him by his arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have him adjusting his crooked glasses. “Is Steve. Steve Harrington. My boy.” a smile crept on his lips when he recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned him up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like him?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore him and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Steve.” his name rolling on his tongue made his heart fall to the pitch of his stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” he coughed, clearing his throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. His eyes darted elsewhere as he awkwardly scratched his neck.

“Thank you.” he stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as he realized what he had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although he didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Eddie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to him. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Steve’s first party.” he said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” he put extra emphasis to those words, which only made you smile harder and Eddie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church boy.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at him, and his whole body flushed, making you chuckle.

“You. Stop it.” Eddie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Eddie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” he teased you as he extracted from one of his front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” he inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” he laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty boy.” you called for Steve, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” he quickly pushed one of his hands on his front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. His eyes widened when you pulled him from his arm so he would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on his own as you took his bible from his hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on his own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. He was stunned, and Eddie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Steve saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if he knew that he wouldn’t think it, he still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty boy? Want to give it a try?” he quickly shook his head.

“N-No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Eddie, the girls and you laugh. He looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” he remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Eddie chuckled beside you.

“Steve is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed a girl… Never fucked one.” Steve’s cheeks flushed red as he gave him a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were widened. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Eddie Munson… Isn’t that funny?” the metal head seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a man whore.” his mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” one again he remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between his teeth. “Right?”

Eddie seemed interested too, as well as Robin and Nancy.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when he didn’t correct you. Eddie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Nancy muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little fapping?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Steve’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” he groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on him. He felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Steve?” you said, making him stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” he felt even the tips of his ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your family has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Eddie inquired, to what Steve nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Robin said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want, dude.” Nancy nodded in agreement.

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” he stiffened when your hand fell on his knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on his skin. He gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab his attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty boy?” he was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when his eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Stevie.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Eddie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Steve. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Steve was absolutely lost.

“I— I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the blonde was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of vodka that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of vodka. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. He was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” he nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in his stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and to in the salt, all while keeping your eyes on his own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the brunette, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through his veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty boy.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to him with a smirk. His cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, he took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by his decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt his warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since he knew that if he did he’d repent— poured the liquor in his mouth, almost gagging as the vodka hit his tongue, what made his nose scrunch. The turn on his stomach and the burning of his throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited him. He knew that drinking was not something forbidden, he had just been too scared of his parents disappointment if he ever tried it, so he never did. “So?” everyone stared at him, expecting to know his thought about his first time dealing with alcohol.

Steve coughed, squinting a little bit as his hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you burst out in laughter, he could have said anything, and yet he went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Steve seemed confused as he frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Eddie was quick to pull a little bag from his vest pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck man, I’d suck you off right now if there weren’t so many people here.” the metal head chuckled at your words, and Steve only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in his stomach that pleaded him to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth.

“I don’t think that…” he started, but you only looked at him and he was a goner, the words dying in his throat. His best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Steve the saint Harrington was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. He didn’t know if he should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Steve was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. He felt that sting tugging from his cock, although he tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Robin handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Steve looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Munson, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” he let out a laughter as he reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed him.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Steve’s breath hitched when your eyes found his. “What do you say pretty boy? Are you in?” you offered him the blunt, and after a little hesitation, his fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that he had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” he seemed scared of it, holding it away from him as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to him ‘till your thigh was flushed against his, fingers around his wrists to guide the joint to his lips. He felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to his own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” he was following your words and doing as you told him. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe he was going too fast, since he started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give him back pats.

“Are you okay?” Nancy inquired him, handing him a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw he’s fine…” Robin laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Eddie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

He shivered when your fingers dug in his hair, comforting him as his coughing ceased. “Are you okay?” he nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” he looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged him, taking the blunt from his hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. His breath hitched when the hand that stood in his hair pushed him near your face. His eyes widened and his pulse spiked up when your breath hit his own, the weed and alcohol on it making him feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from him was. He really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to his cheek, thumb pressing against his bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” he was quick to do what you’ve asked him to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” he nodded, and as you blew the smoke on his lips, he took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of his throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing him hold his breath as much as he could —like he had seen you do—. “Good boy.” he almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on him. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made him shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” he shook his head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged his scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Robin was the first to break the silence, making Nancy and Eddie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the metal head said, fanning his face and making your eyes practically send him daggers. “Just saying…” he rose his hands in surrender.

Steve was feeling his limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty boy?” he looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Feels amazing.” he muttered, and all of you laughed at his reaction.

“Eddie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked him, but he just seemed happy to see his best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

He was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked him about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. He understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. He tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” he announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Stevie with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Nancy and Robin were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Nancy needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Eddie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Steve were left behind. Alone. He seemed to realize too, since his body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty boy.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. He nodded, trying not to show the ways his hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: He was high. He was exited about his first party. He was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and he was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though his hair, in the way your eyes never left him.

“Nothing.” he sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face him.

“Tell me, Steve…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on his hair sliding down to his neck, where you connected the moles on his skin. His eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, he felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give him a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against his as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on his face. He was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against him making his cock strain on his pants. He looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although his eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against his cheek, leading him back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Steve…” you muttered, your breath colliding with his own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against his bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no girl has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the brunette stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering brown shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty boy.” he whined as your lips brushed against his, teasing him, pulling him in to the sin he had learned to avoid. The sin he had made himself avoid.

“y/n…” he let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as he leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook his body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and he whined when you pulled from his hair to keep him from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Stevie?” you inquired. You liked the boy, you wanted the boy, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

He nodded, tongue sneaking in between his lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making him cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” he whimpered, eyes on your red lips as his own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through his veins, or the fact that he wanted it, you, so bad he felt like dying…

“Please y/n, kiss me…” he whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when his eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the brown of them, the need… You were quick to pull him in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met his. God, you’d been wanting to do that since he had stepped in the room. Your core ached when he moaned in your mouth, his hands shaking at his sides as his eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over his lap, straddling his lap and making his eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Stevie, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on his neck, making him sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide his to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing him before you would lean in once again to meet his lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” He was shaking when you kissed him again, breath hitching and a moan leaving his lips when you started to rock your hips against him. He was already hard. So hard… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against his mouth, your thumb pulling on his bottom lip. He did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good boy…” he moaned when your tongue slid right inside his mouth, swirling around his. His fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on his hair. His jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of his pants and against his aching cock, which twitched against his thigh.

When you pulled away, his glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” he whimpered as your lips trailed down his throat, harshly sucking hickeys on his skin and hands bucking you against him. He felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you in top of him, dry humping him, kissing him… He never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off his lap —hearing a whine fall from his lips— and pulling from his hand so he could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag him upstairs, getting him in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss him again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on his lips made you want to devour him.

He opened his mouth for you, just like you had taught him, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led him towards the bed. He let out a surprised gasp when you pushed him on the chest, making him sit down. “What… What are you doing?” he inquired you as you kneeled in front of him, breathing strained and lips swollen. His hair was all messed up, as well as his clothes, and his dick hurt so much under his pants he couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing him, rubbing against him and making it better. He was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing his thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at him as you unbuckled his jeans and pushed it down his thighs along with his underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” he tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left his mind when you left a little peck on the tip of his dick. It was pretty, and big. The kind of big that would get a few minutes to get used to, to the stretch, and leave you limping the day after. There was this cute little vein on its side, that you made sure to outline with your tongue, tracing the under part of the head afterwards, which made him squirm under your touch. You smiled when he let out a load moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at his moans and whines.

“Such a pretty boy with a pretty cock...” he whimpered when you licked clean the precum off his slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” he nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from the base to the tip before pushing it inside your mouth. You moaned around him, ‘cause he tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your throat on his dick so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let him go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would lace around his dick, giving it a big and low stroke that made his thighs clench and a moan leave his lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” he whimpered when your mouth went back to him, taking him in your throat as fat as it would go. His fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum around his cock and him moan. He felt like chocking with his spit. He has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. He was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there he was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

He seemed extremely sensitive on the underside of his tip, where you teased him with your tongue, making him moan and whimper as you sucked him off. There was this pressure, this heat building up in his lower stomach that made his head feel all fuzzy and his limbs weak.

“y/n…” he whined, his dick twitching in your mouth and fully leaking. You could feel he was about to cum, and its speed and poor stamina only made him cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired him, entertained by his slack jaw and glossed over eyes. He was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how he’d react once he was deep inside you, fucking into you, cumming in you… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

He shook his head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” he begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking him in your fist. “Feels so good, so good, please…” he was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that he was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto his cock and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. He was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt him and led him away from God. And honestly? He’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with his dick on your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at him as you took him down on his throat with all your red lipstick smeared around his cock… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. He was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had him shaking on his spot that he started to moan and whimper more loudly, dick twitching down you throat.

“Please, please, please…” he didn’t even know what he was begging for, his strained pleading making you start to bob your head faster, taking him deeper and sucking him harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” he was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of his first orgasm, which was about to crumble him to pieces.

“Come on pretty boy, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking his tip, fucking him with your hand and taking him deep down your throat, gagging around his cock. That’s all it took for him to fill your throat up, the sound and sight of your gagging, the feeling of your throat clenching around him… His orgasm hit him like a wave. So hard he was gasping for air, as if he were drowning under water. His sight went completely white, mins blank and ears ringing as his body relaxed under your touch. When he came back from it, you were cleaning him up with your tongue, swallowing his warm load and caressing his thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste. You weren’t a big fan of giving head, but you could always made an exception. And Steve could be that exception, as always as he sounded and looked so pretty while you sucked him off. “You okay, baby?” you inquired him as his eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. He shivered when your lips latched to the skin of his hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making his fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” he whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up his lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of his shirt as you sat back down on his lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on his face and his dizzy nodding.“Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased him, making him moan as your hands sneaked up his unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on his ear, nibbling on his jaw and making him gasp, his dick was already hardening and twitching against your thigh. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against his lips when he nodded. And he did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside his mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against his own. He was shaking when you pushed his hands from your waist to your breasts, he groaned when you squeezed his to make a domino effect and urge him to touch you just how he wanted. “Tell me Stevie, what is it that you want?” you inquired him as your breaths mixed, sucking on his bottom lip. His eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on his neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” he breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. He wanted to make you feel the way you had made him feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at his words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing his messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making him take a shaky breath as he nodded. “You wanna make feel good, Stevie?” he always had hated that nickname with which Eddie always made fun of him, but he didn’t find it annoying if it were your lips from where it fell. His skin grew on goosebumps when you guided on of his hands down your body, ‘till his fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when his palm cupped your clothed cunt. He felt his heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” he nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick his lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good boy…” you couldn’t know if he had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for him or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when he stared at you like that.

He felt like fainting when he felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, his fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on his fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed his hand upwards, ‘till his fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when he did, what only made him crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against his touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on his chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on his neck when you pushed his hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Steve was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when he first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of his fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Steve knew he was a goner when he found himself swearing. And he didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around his finger when you pulled him in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as he started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on his touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Steve.” you gasped out, and he followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing him, and begging him for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

His dick was twitching like crazy, leaking on his thigh as he took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god he would die to worship.

And he surely felt like cumming when his fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. He wanted more. More of you falling apart. So he curved them once again, and again, and… But before he could know it, he found himself being pushed and laying on his back. “Wh—What?” he tried and ask. Had he done something wrong? If he had… But his voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and he felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like he had ever seen tits before, but if he had he would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… He just wanted to suck and bite on them.

He moaned when you rocked against his hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against his cock. “y/n… Shit.” he could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against him.

“Too much, pretty boy?” you smirked, grabbing his wrists to lead his hands towards your breasts. His big hands made you sigh when his fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” he breathed out when you leaned in to kiss his neck and chest, marking him all up as he whimpered below you, loosing himself on the way your hips thrusted against his, your lips on his skin, your warm own in between his fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against cock once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating his length as you slid against him. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting his glossy and dazed ones. “More…” he whimpered, needing more, more of you. He noticed the hesitation in your eyes before his lips parted once again, “Please…” his hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing him so deep and wet that he was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Stevie?” you teased, pressing down against him and making him moan as he nodded. “Want to fuck me raw? Want to cum inside?” he was whimpering when your hand took his cock, sliding it in between your lips, lubing him up.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled his eyes at the feeling of you lining him against you, pressing down, teasing him with every false thrust of your hips. He needed to be inside you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against his lips before you’d start to sink down on his cock, moaning at the burn of the stretch, of him breaking you in half. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on his chest, moaning as he bottomed out. “Shit, so big…”

“Fuck.” he breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so tight, so warm, so wet… His fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when you were fully seated on his dick. By the way he was twitching inside of you and how his breath sounded strained, you knew he was trying his best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. You were grateful to have time to get used to his size, because he was surely not small, and the position only made him reach deeper inside of you. A moan left his lips when your started to slightly grind on him, you biting down on your lip as he whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only the tip stood inside before slamming your hips back down, moaning when he hit your g spot and hearing him groan. “You like that, pretty boy? Your virgin dick seems to, twitching like crazy inside of me.” you teased him, chuckling slightly when he nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself on his cock like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ he was a babbling mess as he watched you jump up and down his dick —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at his messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when he let out a whimper as you fucked him harder, kissing his neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over his body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every jump on his cock, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against his ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on his happy — and now soaked— trail, the way your warm and soaked pussy sucked him in every time his dick will pull out… It was too much, too much that the brunette could feel tears stinging his eyes, threatening to spill over his flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

He whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your shoulders in front of him under his confused gaze. You gave him a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing, stretched wet hole show only for him. His dilated pupils latched to it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. He felt his mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good boy with me, Stevie.” he was quick to sit up and crawl his way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged his mind. He was even quicker to discard his glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when he pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing his hard and big fat cock back inside of you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on his shoulder blades as he started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on his ear, legs crossing over his hips and ass and heels digging on it to press him closer and deeper inside of you. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing him grunt.

He was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on his hair and his lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as he moaned against it. “Fuck Steve, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. He was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of his hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as his hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when he groaned at your tight and pulsing walls. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good boy anymore, huh?” He whined when your fingers tugged harder on his hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as his eyes squeezed shut. He was in a daze. “You like that pretty boy?” you teased, moaning when his grip around your neck tightened and he gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your g spot making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls milk his twitching cock. “Shit, y/n…” his lips parted in a whimper, his hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of that tight grip, of those pretty moans of yours… He dragged you down on cock with every push of his hips, pulling from you to reach deeper inside. You could feel his tip brushing your cervix.

“Steve i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your dick, shit.” you were choking on your words, even more when one of his hands sneaked down your stomach in between the two of you so his fingertips would press against your clit, making you scream.

Your moans got muffled when he kissed you, his tongue pushing inside your mouth as his thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming inside your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” he could feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm approaching right beside his. He wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to his face, your thumb pressing against his bottom lip as he rested his forehead against yours, his breath fanning over your face. “Cum inside. Inside, please Steve, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. His eyebrows knitted together as his lips fell on a moan, dick twitching as he pumped inside of you one, two, three more times before painting your insides in white, making you moan at the fullness. He was spilling out with every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following his as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” he begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes, his fingertips rubbing your clit to extend your orgasm.

He groaned when your walls squeezed him so hard he felt like he could cum once again.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away, and he didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Steve understood. He finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Steve was sure to had found his in you.

a/n;

sub inexperienced steve has me kicking my feet and shit, WEEPING. but anyways… i hoped y’all liked this stevie as much as i did! love you all!

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<333

[dragonworshippersblog]

Let's discuss some topic that I frequently read on tumblr about house of the dragon (if u do not agree then u can express ur opinion by comment, but always be educate. And if you want another topic to be discussed let me know and i will make a post)

“Aegon is the rightful king of the seven kingdoms by law”

GRRM in an interview said this “ Well, the short answer is that the laws of inheritance in the Seven Kingdoms are modeled on those in real medieval history… which is to say, they were vague, uncodified, subject to varying interpretations, and often contradictory” so we can say that male primogeniture is based on traditions, not law. King Jaehaerys with the great council of 101 at harrenal let the lords decide who should succeeded him, so he gave them a choice. But this is not the same about king viserys, he named rhaenyra as his heir and alway defended her, so viserys did not give them a choice. By usurping rhaenyra’s throne the green imply that the king’s word means nothing, and this is the thing that causes war and crisis. As we see in the book fire and blood most of the houses support rhaenyra’s cause, so otto’s word “the realm will not accept her” are revealed to be false. Again the war come from the fact that otto and alicent decide to crown aegon, so houses actually have a choice to decide who they wanted to support, if aegon hadn’t been present as an option the few houses that didn't agree with viserys choice will bent the knee alike.

“Alicent always defended rhaenyra before she lied to her about her purity”

In episode three the show let us see a conversation between otto and alicent where he said “aegon has been robbed of his own inheritance because he is the king’s first born son” and after he said that is alicent’s aim to guide the king in his decision, the second after she went to viserys’ chamber claim that there is something she want to discuss with him (viserys stopped her and they start talking about the stepstones). How do you know that she did not raise this matter anymore? In episode six when older alicent was question rhaenyra’s children she say she already talk about this before but the show didn't let us saw it, so its completely possible that she proposed aegon as heir even before rhaenyra’s lie when they were still friend

“Alicent always defend rhaenyra and yet rhaenyra send otto away when she had the possibility leaving alicent alone”

Let’s go deep into it. Queen Aemma, rhaenyra’s mother, died in order to gave the king a son, she was literally open without any kind of anesthesia so she felt every cut the maester were doing to her (and in the original script rhaenyra saw her body so she is aware that the death of her mother wasn’t a miscarriages like the other). After all of it viserys named rhaenyra his heir and married alicent, and at the time they had two children together, aegon and haelena. In this scenario otto was the second most powerful man in the realm, he ruled when viserys can’t, and he had great influence as he had great ambitions. So, rhaenyra had the chance to demonstrate that her mother’s death was not vain, and all of her miscarriages and pain had an aim now that her daughter is heir, but then there is otto and he will always be an obstacles in her rise to the throne; you, in her position, had the chance to get him go away, you choose to let him stay at court so your best friend is not alone or you choose to let him go so your rise will be more easy? Because if I were in rhaenyra’s position I would have not hesitate a second

“Alicent did not knew the council were plotting to crown aegon”

You all act like she had not the huge part in rhaenyra’s usurpation. First of all she tormented rhaenyra for a lot of years in king's landing, she moved to dragonstone (which is however the seat of the heir to the throne, rhae is the princess of dragonstone) because she couldn't take it anymore to be targeted by alicent and it was her aim in my opinion because rhaenyra not set the council would let Alicent have all the power to influence everyone about how her son is more worthy. Then she said to aegon “everyone in the realm know that one day you will be our king” so also if aegon was not meant to have the crown alicent let him believe that, and he was a boy at the time so he was easily manipulated. Then there is the petition about driftmark, you are really claim that alicent was willing to do so because she care so much to vaemond to have driftmark because its his blood rights and not because when the war she and otto create will follow she will have the velaryon flee support her? And when she said that viserys whisper to her about how aegon should succeed him? You can be team green or team black, but everyone can agree about how pathetic she was claiming that after viserys defend rhae for 20 years, and he suddenly change his mind where only her was here to listen him

[chefkids]

I have a question, what do you think Ayo’s opinion is on sydcarmy? im wondering cause im worried it won’t happen, if she has influence over their development and exerts that influence to keep them platonic. Cause she originally never thought of them as romantic, but given her chemistry with jaw and all the moments between sydcarmy, how obviously important sydcarmy are to each other and the framing and editing of the show, I wonder if her as a writer saw the potential of them and was more willing to explore it for this upcoming season hopefully. I guess we’ll find out in s3 and/or s4. I hope they have a lot of press this time and we can get more in depth interviews on them and their characters and their relationship with each other. Mainly if sydcarmy actually happens, their thoughts on the relationship, its development and their involvement in that, like jaws heart eye acting. That would be fire!

Well first of all actors, writers, directors, and producers lie all the time about what their plan and intentions are. The original script has Sydney as a 30 something year old woman and Carmy as a 25 year old. Sydney was directly inspired by Chris' sister Courtney and her experience in the culinary world and Carmy feels kind of a bit self inserty for Chris given his whole personal life story with his mom. So technically I do think the original script probably wasn't romantically inclined but a lot changed, Tina was originally a man. I think the reworked version was always meant to be a slow burn from day 1 and I'm sure Ayo knew that too and was on board with it. Season 3 is already finished and I really doubt they will back track on any of their sydcarmy storyline. I still think Ayo is on board with sydcarmy, she did say her favorite scene was the table scene. Can't get anymore straightforward than that. Ultimate it's Chris' story and he's going to play it out like he intended, unless the fx disney overlords somehow force him to change it. I think everyone's questions about them will be answered once the show/ their arc is complete, but right now they can't really say much without giving things away so I get why they don't do that much press especially together.

[tommygrace]

I think the ultimate reason why TxL fans think they are the OG is because they are, at the end of the day, Cillian fans and Cillian has quite a few times implied in interviews that the TxL storyline is very powerful to him and easily his favorite on the show. However, that does not mean that in actual writing and character-wise, Grace isn’t the love of Tommy’s life. Grace has always been and will always be if we stay true to the writing. One thing is what Cillian as a person thinks and another is Tommy and what Tommy feels. I’m afraid that’s why TxL fans think Lizzie is “the one”, because they are simply influenced by Cillian’s preferences and they do not make the distinction. Also because Cillian was sort of pissed off when he knew Annabelle wasn’t really Irish so I think that’s why he might not be entirely fond of TommyxGrace on the show. But, yet again, Cillian isn’t Tommy. For Tommy it always Grace and it will always be her.

to continue with my previous idea about TxL, Lizzie seems to be Cillian’s favorite character and in his own words, loyalty is very important so that’s what Tommy loves about her. Also, Cillian says he would like Tommy to love Lizzie the way he, as Cillian, loves Lizzie. All of those comments are from Cillian’s perspective and own opinions as an individual. It doesn’t mean that Tommy really loves her. It’s actually only Cillian who seems desperate for Tommy to love Lizzie the same way he loved Grace. He also has said if Tommy had some common sense, he would simply stick with her and love her. I’m glad they didn’t follow that route though, even when Cillian became executive producer because it looks like he really wanted Tommy to fall in love with her.

Now, I don’t know why Cillian seems to be so keen on that idea since Tommy sleeps with whores and constantly cheats on her lmao but that’s him. I think that’s why these TxL fans think the same thing. They are simply influenced by Cillian’s own feelings towards the characters, not the characters themselves. These are all Cillian’s thoughts, not what Tommy actually feels!!!!!!!!

Now my answer :

Well I understand what you're saying, but I don't agree. Because I've seen so many interviews with Cillian Murphy, and he never said he was angry because she's not Irish, that's a lie, probably from Lizzie fans. Annabelle Wallis said that Cillian Murphy was nervous because he found out that the actress who is going to play Grace is not Irish, but she said that when they met they got along very well from the beginning and everything was fine. And Cillian Murphy is Irish, and he plays an Englishman, since Tommy was born in England, so it would be stupid for him to be bothered by that, and he doesn't seem like that kind of guy. And although I'm not Irish, I live in Ireland and Annabelle's accent is very accurate.

The other thing is that Cillian never said that he preferred the Tommy and Lizzie story over the one with Grace, or that he had a preference for Lizzie. He said that the story between Lizzie and Tommy and the kids is his favorite in S6, not in the show in general. And in S6, the only story is that, and he also said that the story with the children is powerful, because for Tommy it is always important that the children are well and saves, so he talked more about Ruby's story, but he couldn't say it because it would be spoilers. And he has said that he was heartbroken when he found out that Grace died, that he loves the character of Grace,and "in S1 and S2 she kind altered Tommy and this light side of him that he left behind in the trenches and France was ignited by her" and also that "she and Charlie are the only pure thing that Tommy has". He also said that he loves working with Annabelle Wallis, which is why he was heartbroken when he read the script. And he would have liked it to be Grace who was with Tommy until the end. And in the last S6 interview, where he talks about the story of Lizzie and the children, he also said that Grace's death is the most important thing that happened on the show, and that Tommy will never be able to get over it.

So I don't think Cillian has a preference for Grace or Lizzie, he likes both stories, both characters and he gets along very well with both actresses, he always speak highly of both of them. But something important is that when he talks about Tommy and Grace, he always uses the word love, and that she healed him, and when he talks about Tommy and Lizzie he always uses the word trust and that she was there for him, and that was what they showed us on the show.

But i do agree with you about Lizzie fans thinking that way because of what Cillian said and they prefers don't listen to what he said about Tommy and Grace.