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iwriteyanderes2023 · 4 months

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Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

You regretted agreeing to this.

Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.

They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.

You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.

Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.

You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.

You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.

Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!

Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.

"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.

"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.

"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"

"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"

You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.

The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.

"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.

"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.

"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.

"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.

But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.

You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.

There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!

She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.

The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.

You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.

She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.

Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."

You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.

You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-

"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"

A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.

You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.

He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"

"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.

"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.

Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.

You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.

"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."

Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?

You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.

"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."

Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.

"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.

You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.

"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."

You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.

"Duh." She bobbed her head.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.

"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.

You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.

"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.

You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.

"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.

You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.

You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.

"Heyy..."

You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"

"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.

You asked if that was really necessary.

"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.

All you could do was nod meekly.

Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.

"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.

You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.

You asked what you should call her instead.

"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."

You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.

You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.

"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."

You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.

She shook her head defiantly.

"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."

You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.

A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.

"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.

"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."

You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.

"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.

You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.

You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.

Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.

You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.

You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.

The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.

When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.

You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.

She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.

The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.

In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.

You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.

It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.

"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"

The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.

"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"

"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"

"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"

"Really!? The rapper!?"

You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.

Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.

Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.

You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.

Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.

"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.

You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.

"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.

Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.

You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.

It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.

"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."

You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.

So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.

It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.

"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.

You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.

"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."

You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.

For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.

It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.

You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.

It's getting late, you should leave.

So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.

She frowned. "Boo. Boring."

You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.

"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.

You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.

"They don't close til 10."

Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.

She stuck her tongue out at you.

"Fine. But I'm driving you home."

You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.

"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.

Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.

The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.

It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.

It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.

Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.

"Stop working letz go shopping"

"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"

"nerd :-P"

"im boreddddddddddddd"

"go clubbing with moiiii"

"letzzz goooo"

"stop ignoring me :-("

These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.

But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.

You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.

"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.

In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.

Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.

A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.

"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"

You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.

"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."

You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.

For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.

All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.

She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.

It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.

It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.

Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.

You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.

You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...

"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.

She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:

"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!

"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.

"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.

She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.

But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.

You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?

"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.

"I didn't like my order."

You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.

"They didn't make it right!"

You asked her what made her think they made yours right.

"They just do!"

You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?

She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.

You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.

This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.

But she chose and bought you these clothes...?

You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.

"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.

You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.

"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.

Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.

"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."

Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.

Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.

You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.

Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.

"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.

You said you can't. You have work to do.

"Says who?"

You said your boss.

"Who's your boss?"

For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.

But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.

"Tell her!" She demanded.

"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."

Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.

"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.

You looked at her. How could she just do that?

"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.

It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.

It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?

It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.

It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.

But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.

So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.

And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.

Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.

You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.

You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.

It didn't last long, though.

There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.

Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.

The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.

Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.

She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.

However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.

"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.

You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!

You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?

The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.

"You."

Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.

You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"

This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.

You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.

"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.

"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"

You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.

"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.

You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.

She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.

You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?

You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.

You regretted agreeing to come to the city.

She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.

Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.

She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.

Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.

But now...

"Sit."

You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.

Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.

"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.

You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.

She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.

"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!

You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.

"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.

You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.

"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.

"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.

You nodded and let out a muffled yell.

"Roll over."

You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.

"Play dead."

You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.

"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.

You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.

"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.

"Open your legs."

She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.

"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.

You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.

You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.

Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.

Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.

2K notes · View notes

ceoofglytchell · 16 days

Text

Butterfly

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has even once never forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and- gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won't let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Word count: 4214 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong like features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, fluff, angst, longing, thoughts of major dubcon (it’s only a thought and does not really happen), kinda miscommunication, hurt/comfort, allusions to smut, aegon being miserable, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I was not feeling good last week, but I am back now with this piece here, but I’m not sure if it’s good. But, as always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language. Enjoy 💛

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"I promise that one day I will marry you."

Never once in your life have you forgotten the promise that your uncle Aegon had given you six years ago on the shores of Driftmark. Yes, he was drunk, and yes, he knew that your families would never let a union between the two of you come to be, but a boy could dream. At least that was how he had justified the vow later on when you had to separate the following morning.

You have always wished that your beloved uncle would fulfill his very promise one day, but unfortunately the chance got slimmer and slimmer the more years passed and the more protective your mother has gotten over you, because as Rhaenyra's first and only daughter nothing was easy.

You were born with brown curls and hazel eyes like your brothers, making the sin your mother had committed all the more obvious to anyone else, a walking reminder of her carelessness. However you were born much smaller in comparison to your brothers and even as you grew you remained petite and delicately looking, which caused Rhaenyra to fuss over you like a mother hen constantly, as if she feared you to be a porcelain doll that could shatter into a million pieces with just a touch. She certainly treated you this way.

Aegon however has always seen the watchful eyes and silent warning glances of his half-sister to be more of a challenge than an actual prohibition.

The prince had always been enamored with you, his little niece, but he has always bottled up all his hidden feelings for you within himself so it was only natural that one time where he had swallowed down cup after cup of dornish wine and you sat by him and held his hand after he had been scolded by his grandsire, the words spilled out of his mouth like a river.

He had barely been able to remember it the next morning, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks when he stood before you to say his goodbyes, he knew that you knew. It was either a curse or a blessing, but even as he had watched you leave with your mother, brothers, and a few of the servants, he had known that he would see you again one day and if he did, he would take you as his wife.

You were not sure what you had imagined when you and your family returned to King’s Landing after so many years to assure yourselves that Lucery's claim to the island of Driftmark was defined and would not be contested, but no matter how easy this task seemed to be on the first look, you quickly learned that this was not the case. Vaemond Velaryon and your great-aunt Rhaenys had also come.

However, their presence brought you less out of the concept than to see Aemond beating Ser Criston during sparring on the courtyard as if the man was nothing but a normal knight and not a loyal and trusted member of the King’s Guard. His cold look, when he had seen you and your brothers, made a shiver run down your back and a spark of fear set its roots within yourself, even if you had nothing to do with the tragic loss of his eye.

On that dark night you were with Aegon when it had happened. The older prince had drunken too many cups of wine and stumbled down the stairs that led down to the beach and hit his head. You had sat with him afterwards and watched over him, while he had clung to you as if you were the very last thing that kept him rooted to this world and that kept him from loosing himself to the darkness within his heart.

And then he had given you that promise. That one terrible promise that has been on your mind every single day, which had taken a special place in the depths of your heart. He had promised to marry you and you knew that he would do it, if you would get permission, which you doubted, however, because your mother wanted nothing to do with her half-siblings whatsoever.

You were reminded of said promise when you faced him again in the throne room after six long years; He and his family dressed in Hightower green and gold and you with yours in Targaryen red and black. The difference could not be greater and the tension that lay in the hall could be felt by everyone.

You tried to stick to your mother's words, you really did, but over and over again your warm gaze found his and every time you caught him staring right back at you, an unknown glimmer in his amethyst colored eyes, which you neither could nor wanted to explain.

However, things escalated quickly and your mother quickly pulled you out of the throne room by the arm, leaving the headless body of Vaemond Velaryon behind on the cold stone floor, for which your stepfather was responsible, the word 'bastards' echoing in your ears. It was not easy to be confronted with the truth after all these years, which your mother tried to hide so convulsively, although it was obviously in everyone's eyes and the entire realm knew the truth of your parentage.

Your shocked eyes found those from Aegon before you vanished behind the doors and you immediately knew that this was not the last time you would see him that evening- and you were right.

Your maids, who were also some of your closest friends at the same time, were currently dressing you for dinner when it suddenly knocked on the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, which still looked exactly the same before you had been forced to leave back then. Without having allowed him to come inside, Aegon stepped into the privacy of your old chambers, which were illuminated with flickering candles, whereupon the servants stopped tugging uncomfortably on your hair and stepped away from you, bowing their heads as was custom.

"You may leave us," you told the other women, whereupon they all looked at you with a questioning frown.

"But princess-" "Please, I can do it."

Neither you nor the maids knew really whether you meant your hair or the prince who stared at you without having lost a word so far, which was extremely untypical for your uncle. However, the cup of wine in his right hand was familiar and you immediately became painfully aware of how much you had missed him.

The moment the doors fell shut again and you both were alone in the room and actually stood in front of each other for the first time again in six years, a bright grin broke out on his face and he slowly took a few steps to get closer to you. "Welcome home, little butterfly."

You didn't know exactly what it was; the nickname, his voice, which had matured, or the fact that you finally looked at him again after such a long time, but you couldn't help but close the distance between you two and jump right into his arms.

Aegon was surprised for a brief moment, but he immediately returned your gesture and wrapped his arms around you as well and pressed your slender body tightly against his, burying his nose into your long brown curls, which were half put together into a braid, which was not finished, because you had sent your handmaidens out of the room as soon as you had laid your eyes on him.

He could hear how a quiet, content sigh escaped your lips, whereupon he felt himself relax in your embrace and he felt his grip around his golden cup of wine loosen slightly as if you were the sole cure for the addiction he had developed. After all these years and although you both have grown and changed, you still fit perfectly against him like the last piece of a puzzle that had finally found its rightful place.

"You cut your hair," you noticed with an audible smile in your gentle voice and you immediately snuggled closer to him as if the sole thought of being parted from him for a second time was unthinkable for you.

"And you have grown- if only a little."

You hit him playfully against his shoulder and leaned back a little so that you could look him into his lilac eyes, which you noticed no longer held the same glint as they had back then. In addition, deep dark circles under his eyes adorned his handsome face and he had become even paler, which was why you feared that you needed to worry about his health. He also looked very much tired. However, these little details did not change the fact that the man in front of you was as beautiful as he had been back then if not more.

"Still feisty, I see, butterfly."

"You did not forget it," you noticed with an almost melancholic smile on your rosy lips. Ever since you were children and a small white butterfly had landed on your head in the Godswood, which would happen two or three times more over time, he called you by the name of the animal, since you were probably just as fragile and delicate, you mused. At the beginning you did not really enjoy it, but over time you wanted to hear him say it over and over again- now too.

"Of course not. I would never forget you, my darling."

"Stop it." You looked down onto the ground so that he would not see the obvious blush on your cheeks, but he did regardless. As for you, he paid attention to everything, every little detail.

"I did not forget my promise to you either." The prince said and stroked with one hand over the length of your arm, which was covered by a silken red sleeve. Actually, you did not want to wear a red dress to dinner, as it would only illustrate the fronts between the two sides of your families, but your mother insisted on it. You personally have always preferred lighter colors.

"Really? You appeared to be very much... drunk when you gave it to me, Aegon." You carefully replied while you hesitantly grabbed his hand, the contact igniting a feeling of warmth in you, which you had been longing for as well.

"I was drunk, that much is true. However, I always am and I remember very well that I said that I would marry you."

"This was so long ago-" you said with a quick shake of the head, because you knew that time did not change anything about what he felt for you and what you felt for him. A marriage between the two of you would never be agreed to, even if you could not imagine marrying someone other than him. The hatred between the two sides of your family was just too big and your love would not mend the crack again.

"No, I am serious. Be my wife, please. There is no day that I did not think of you and wanted you to be by my side." He reached for your hands and held them firmly in his own as if that alone could convince you to marry him without further ado and preferably that evening right after having had dinner. He would not allow you to get betrothed, because then he would lose the opportunity to have the only person who has ever taken care of him and who has actually listened to what he had to say. If you were not there, he was miserable- the last few years have been proof of it.

On the other hand, you were completely perplexed and overwhelmed with the situation. You wanted him. He was the only one who had never treated you like a fragile doll or a mindless duckling, but just like a girl like any other and you liked that. You did not want to be considered weak by everyone- of all the dragons you rode Silverwing, by the gods, you were not weak. It was bad enough that you were a dragon rider and your mother did not allow you to ride as much as you would have liked.

Unfortunately, the truth was that Rhaenyra and Alicent would never agree to a union between him and you. They would rather die or burn in the seven hells and you wanted to save yourself the pain that would follow if you asked and the two older women would vehemently forbid it even if nothing spoke against it and it would actually serve to strengthen House Targaryen for future generations. Unfortunately, it was more likely that at some point he would marry one of the daughters of Lord Baratheon or his own sister Helaena and that you would have to marry Lord Cregan Stark eventually.

"You don't know me anymore. If you excuse me, my prince, I have to continue preparing myself for dinner now.”

With a jerk you pulled your hands out of his and sat down at your dressing table, trying to ignore him and push him away from you, because you would not be able to allow your feelings for him to bloom now and in the end you would have to spend your life with another. You would not be able to bear it. The prince looked at you with an expression of utter disbelief on his features, until then a flicker of anger crossed his gaze and he stormed out of your chambers without hesitation, the door falling shut so loudly that it made you flinch.

You just wanted to protect him as well as yourself.

Later at dinner you watched Aegon drowning himself in alcohol and staring at his plate without touching the food at all. Aemond, who sat on the other side of the table, stared at your siblings and you at all times, not letting you out of his sight, until it suddenly escalated and a single toast made everyone become aware of how fragile the bond that held your family together actually was.

Shortly afterwards, your mother informed you that you would return to dragonstone the very next morning and you felt right in your decision to have pushed away the man for whom you had deeper feelings for. It was better for both of you. At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

You told that to yourself when you came back to your rooms and found them empty and dark, you told yourself when you sat alone in front of the fireplace and loosened your braids, when you undressed, put on a light nightgown, and you kept repeating it to yourself when you climbed in bed at last and slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep. You would not be able to bear the pain that would follow if you allowed yourself to actually be with him.

Aegon still felt the taste of dornish wine on his tongue and its effects clouding his senses when he stood in the middle of the night in the darkness of your bedchambers and stared down at your sleeping form in your bed, the moonlight that fell through the windows illuminating your soft features like you were the very image of the Maiden. He was slightly shaky on his feet and he was well aware that he should not be here, but he just could not control himself. Your rejection before dinner and the way you refused to speak a single word to him while you had sat beside each other had robbed him of his last bit of sanity and he just had to know what you felt.

He had a simple plan; slipping inside your rooms unnoticed, tainting your honor and showing his mother the proof of it in the morning, because then she would have to agree to a union just like his half-sister, since you would ruined for any other man. His plan had been so simple, he would just have to tear the blanket right of you, push your nightgown up to your hips and take his pleasure, but when he approached the edge of your bed and saw how peaceful you looked like sleeping, he could not bring himself to do it.

The prince felt a lump forming in his throat, his heart becoming heavy and he could not help but kneel on the floor next to the bed, while he buried his face next to yours in the pillow in the hope that you would not notice the tears of shame burning in his eyes. You should just sleep on and never find out that he was even here. He was a monster for even thinking of ruining you.

He sobbed into your plush pillows, his hands fisting the silken bed sheets tightly when he suddenly felt something stirring beside him on the mattress, but he did not raise his head just yet. He did not want to look you in the eye after what he had originally come for.

"Uncle? What happened?"

Your gentle voice was like a balm for his soul, but he still continued to quietly sob into your pillows. You did not even ask why he was here, but what had happened. Even now you took care of him, although you had wanted to distance yourself from him a few hours ago for a reason that he simply could and would not understand.

"What have I done? Why are you pushing me away from you? What has changed?”

You quickly rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes and you began to caress his back with your small hands, which made a shiver run down his spine and the tears on his wet cheeks slowly started to dry because no new ones fell, at least not right now. Like always, your touch calmed him.

"Why are you here?" You asked him instead of giving him an answer to his previous questions, because you could not tell him the truth. To see how the man you loved cried on the edge of your bed because of something that you had done when you had actually just wished to protect him from that very pain was making your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. You did not want to feel this pain nor did you want him to experience it. What have you done?

"Don't go," he murmured and finally raised his head slightly again to look at you with his reddened, swollen eyes, even if the room was dark and both of you could barely make each other out in the dark.

"Don't leave me a second time, please. Not again... don’t do this to me."

You sighed and sat up in bed, because this was exactly what you had not wanted to happen. His sensitivity was no secret to you and you knew how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you. Your mother had decided that you would return to dragonstone and you could not argue against her decision after what had happened today at dinner. Your house was more fragile than ever and if the others were to find out what you felt for each other, it would be the stone that would set a giant chaos into motion. It would be the end of Haus Targaryen as you knew it.

"Go away, Aegon," you murmured and sat down in such a way that your knees were pressed against your chest and your arms were wrapped around your legs as if you wanted to give yourself a hug to comfort yourself.

“No, please ... darling, don’t," whimpered the older prince and climbed next to you on the soft mattress, desperately searching for your gaze and your closeness. He wanted to pull you into him, love you and never let you go again even for a small second, because you were the only thing in this world that gave him something akin to a glimmer of hope, a light in the deepest darkness of his broken soul.

"Butterfly…"

"Don't call me that!" You suddenly spat at him loudly, which immediately made him wince and made hot tears burn in his eyes once more, threatening to spill over his pale cheeks.

You have never been angry with him before. Never.

"I love you! Don't you see that? I love you so much, but I cannot live with the pain of loving a man that I cannot call my own.”

That was it. The words and the truth were out and he had heard them. His suffering broke your heart, but he deserved to hear these three words from you at least once. You loved him, you truly did, but a miracle would need to happen so that you would be able to live out your love. It was not his fault, nor was it yours, as it was the hatred that has been burning between your mothers for years- a hatred that would probably never vanish.

Aegon was speechless. For a moment he just shook his head in disbelief, which made his white curls fall over his forehead, but it did not prevent him from looking into your beautiful face and seeing in the desperate look in your dark eyes that you were serious. "But I already am yours, am I not?"

"Aegon..." Your shoulders sagged even further down and you pushed your legs even further against your upper body, the sight of it making him miserable, because he did not want to imagine what would have happened had he actually went through with his plan and he would have taken you without your consent and made you his without warning. You would probably have shouted and fought back and he could never have forgiven himself for it and you would never have forgiven him either. No, he was glad that he had not done it.

He carefully approached your trembling shape on the bed and he tenderly wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him as firmly as he could. Now you started to sob into his shoulder bitterly and he started to slowly rock you back and forth, while he buried his nose into your brown hair like he had done earlier, because your scent always seemed to calm him down, but your hair was also a sign for everyone else that you should not exist and that you, being a bastard, would be monstrous by nature, but he could not care about that in the slightest. You were beautiful on the inside and outside and one day he would prove it to you- perhaps even tonight.

"Marry me?" Back then it was a promise, now it was a serious question and he meant it with every fiber of his body. You were meant to be his wife, even if your love would be a scandal in the eyes of the gods, but he has never been a religious man anyways.

"I can't, uncle, I can't."

Aegon started to place soft and slow kisses on the top of your head. He began his exploration on your hair, then wandered down to your forehead, brushing his lips over your eyebrows, over your cheeks, which were wet from the tears that you shed for him until he reached your own lips, which looked so soft and inviting that he could hardly hold back.

"Marry me." He whispered against your lips and he looked for your gaze to see what was going through your head. Your eyes had always been the mirror to your soul.

His voice, his pleading tone, his warm breath that stroked your face, and the sudden closeness to him was just too much for you.

You do not dare to say it, but a simple, barely noticeable nod on your part was enough and the prince kissed you as if his life depends on it, his hands wandering over every centimeter of your body while he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he hovered over you, not separating his mouth from you for even a split second.

The rest of the night you both drowned in a sea of desire and pleasure, years of wanting and yearning coming to its climax. At some point, his hands had sneaked under the fabric of your nightgown, undressed you, while you had returned the favor at the same time, whereupon he had not lost any time to show you what it would mean to be his wife and you enjoyed every single second of it.

Neither Aegon nor you really listened to the argument that followed the next morning after your maid had told Rhaenyra who she had found laying next to you in your bed and what had to have happened at night based on the red stain on your sheets. Insults got thrown around, voices became louder, but you merely snuggled closer to your lover, who protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head to yours while a feeling of happiness flooded him.

You were his now and neither his mother nor yours could ever take you away from him ever again. It was too late for that now.

Love was often said to be the death of duty and Aegon Targaryen would not give a single shit about duty for the rest of his life if it meant he got to forever hold you in his arms like this and love you like you deserved.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #tom glynn carney

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lovebugism · 2 months

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steve request for adjusting back to normality with him after the upside down ends? however much u wanna write 🤭🤍🤍 ur writing is gorgeous btw

ty angel! hope you like it!! — steve helps his agoraphobic gf leave the house for the first time since the world ended (established relationship, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of agoraphobia | 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

You sit on the stairwell and tie your shoes, trying desperately to ignore the trembling of your anxious fingers. The thin laces threaten to slip from your tremoring hands as you knot one loop into the other. You couldn’t hide from your worry if you tried.

Steve’s heavy footsteps sound behind you in a steady, even rhythm as he walks down the stairs. You can hear the dull clapping of the boy patting his pockets to ensure his keys and wallet haven’t yet fallen from them. You know he’ll do exactly that another ten times before you step foot out of the house. He’s just as anxious as you are these days.

“Almost ready?” he says, huffing, though a smile is evident in his voice.

You nod to yourself and make careful work of fastening the laces. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Did you make sure to pack those Ants on a Log things? ‘Cause Dustin’ll kill me if we don’t bring ‘em,” Steve frets, for the second or third time that morning. He stills on the step just behind you and crosses a pair of golden arms over his chest. “Because, you know, he’s the only kid in America who actually likes celery.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, smiling despite the fear pinching your chest. “Everything’s in the basket, Stevie.”

“Including the—”

“Yes, including the drinks. And the sandwiches. It’s all in the fridge,” you finish for him. “And the blanket’s in the car, so… Everything’s ready.”

Steve’s chest deflates with a distant sigh of relief. He’s been so used to doing everything on his own — carrying the load of that burden entirely by himself — that he forgot what it meant to have someone else to lean on.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” he murmurs fondly, mostly to himself, as he bends at the waist to kiss your hair. The plush of his lips brush your temple in a warm touch you lean instinctively into.

With a wide hand on your shoulder, Steve feels for the first time how tense you are. All rigid, muscles taut, like cradling a rock in his palm. You’ve kept a brave face for him all day, but there’s only so much hiding you can do.

“You’re still okay with this?” he wonders aloud as he stands to full height again.

His scruffy face is all twisted with concern, but you’re not looking at him to see it. You tie your right sneaker with a pair of graceless hands, where you seem to hold most of your anxiety, and scoff at the silly question. “Am I okay with the… picnic?” you echo.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, lips jutted, as he walks past you down the steps. He turns and leans against the railing, trying hard to be casual. “‘Cause, you know, if you weren’t, we could just have it in the backyard or something. Make all the little shits come here.”

It takes you a moment too long to catch his meaning.

Sometimes you forget that you haven’t left the house all year. You’ve fallen into such a routine here, at Steve’s house (which you’ve come to see as your own), that you’ve forgotten there’s a whole world outside of it. A whole world you shut yourself out of after it nearly ended — after it chewed you up and spat you out again.

You tell yourself that you survived. You tell yourself that you lived in spite of the unfavorable odds. But sometimes, when you feel like shards of flesh and bones instead of a real-life human being, you wonder if you’re alive at all.

“I’m good, Steve,” you assure despite the waver in your voice. Your hands fumble with the laces, and you have to start all over again. “It’s just the park, babe. I can make it to the park.”

Steve nods in response, raking an anxious hand through his hair. He swallows down any attempts to remind you that you’ve barely made it out of the garage, let alone to the park.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to be this pale in the middle of July, anyway,” you joke with a forced laugh.

The only time you really see the sun is when you’re sitting out on the patio — sipping at your morning coffee or watching Steve languish in the pool. You hardly last more than an hour, though, before a plane rumbles overhead or a car engine thunders too loudly. That’s all it takes for everything to come rushing back to you. The monsters, the soldiers, the blood. Then you lock yourself away all over again.

You hope this time is different.

Steve nods again, always hopeful, if only for your sake.

“Okay. Just… Just making sure, you know?” he trails off, then scrunches his nose. “Should we have a codeword, anyway? Like, for when the kids annoy the shit outta me, and I wanna get the hell outta there?”

You squint to yourself, pretending to ponder the question, as you rise from the stairs. You take a few steps downward until you’re standing just ahead of Steve — a few inches taller than him now.

“How about… Get me the hell outta here?” you offer with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A wide, pink grin blossoms on his mouth. “That’s perfect, actually,” Steve muses sarcastically, then meets you halfway when you lean down to kiss him.

It’s a chaste and very innocuous peck that tastes faintly of Steve’s mouthwash and the peanut butter you licked from the spoon after making Dustin’s Ants on a Log.

Despite its fleeting nature, you hang onto the simple kiss your entire way through the front door.

The first step out of the house is the hardest.

You struggle to feel the ground beneath your feet as your mind threatens to wander. Thoughts of death plague your mind despite your attempts to push them away — roaring demogorgons, exploding guns, screaming teenagers. You have to fight the urge to cover your ears when a helicopter whizzes overhead, hidden somewhere in the clouds but sounding much closer than that.

Steve holds your hand the entire way. “Almost there,” you hear him mumbling beneath the heartbeat woosh, woosh, wooshing in your ears. Your eyes squeeze shut. He leads you to the car and squeezes your hand. “You’re doing amazin’, babe. Just a couple more steps.”

You’re at the car in five seconds flat, though it had felt like five minutes at the time — and took approximately five years off your life. You feel eons better when you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Steve’s 733i. You feel more grounded there — with the tires against the asphalt, and Steve’s hand on your thigh, and the radio cranked all the way up.

You’re still a shaking mess when you get to the park, but the kids are a good enough distraction.

You opt to busy your anxious hands with the picnic — handing out food, protecting drinks, and ensuring the emptying basket doesn’t blow away. You sit in the shade in the center of Steve’s quilt as leaves rustle in the warm breeze, allowing bits of summer sun to peek through and glitter on your skin.

You keep a watchful eye on the kids around you as they scatter mindlessly about, making sure no one ventures far enough where you can’t see them. Steve yells at them for it so you don’t have to — shouts at Max and El for getting too close to the tree line while he tosses a ball to Lucas.

He’s slowly mastering the art of throwing with his left hand. He hasn’t been able to lift his right one over his head since Starcourt. There’s a persistent ache in his shoulder he hasn’t been able to get rid of.

He walks over to you when the distance grows too much to bear, twisting his arm with a screwed-up face as he tries to find the root of the pain. “Whaddaya got for me, sweet thing?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

You reach into the basket beside you and pull out the last sandwich of the bunch, which you kept aside especially for him, wrapped neatly in plastic.

You hiss playfully through your teeth, then squint faux apologetically up at him. “All that’s left is tomato-avocado…” you joke, feigning horror.

Steve’s face twists. “Ugh. Seriously?” he huffs in disappointment.

“No,” you hum in response, smiling as you pass him his favorite sandwich. “Here you go.”

It’s a simple turkey, ham, and bacon number with all the fixings, but he particularly likes how you make it. (You argue that it can’t taste any better than a diner-made sandwich, but Steve always insists otherwise.)

Your fingers brush when it takes it from you. Steve finds it difficult not to melt for you entirely, and not just because of the sweltering summer heat.

He’s spent half of his life believing that no one ever gave him a passing thought — or that, at the very least, he was only ever an afterthought. But you remind him every day that he’s so much more than the nothing he often sees himself as. You remind him, through silly picnics and sandwiches made with love, what it means to be truly cared for.

“I love you,” Steve hums quietly, adoration melting in his honey eyes. “You know that?”

You nod once, hiding a smile as you squint one eye from the beaming sun. “I know.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug's summer fic fest '24

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essenteez · 2 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 || 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐 𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆

"Such fragile little thing, you are. Yet you managed to enslave me, the death itself."

“I won’t be gentle. I can't.” He warns, breaking away from the dazing kiss. "I waited a whole year. Twelve, long months. Over three hundred, fucking days controlling myself and keeping my hands to myself. No more."

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: A year passed after you were ostracized by everyone for being a fallen woman. You get the news of a tragic murder of your former fiancé, because of whom you were left with no family and friends. You feel no compassion, but pure joy. Now, you can let go of the past and focus on Jongho, a mysterious lord who saved you from a certain demise and took care of you. You're now ready to embrace your new life fully and the dark secret of your savior.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: vampire jongho x f!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, horror

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, unprotected sex, thigh riding, inexperienced reader, fingering (f!recieving), rough sex, oral (f!recieving), creampie, overstimulation, blood mention, mention of revange murder, a little horror.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 6.6k

London, September 3rd, 1832, Monday.

11.25 PM.

Today is the first death anniversary of the old you. The old you who was disowned by your family, pushed away by your entourage, betrayed by the man you trusted the most. The person that you once wanted to spend your life with - your fiancé, who was found dead yesterday.

Do you feel grief? Of course not. Are you sad? He wishes you were. Although you have to admit that if ever, any wish of death for him had crossed your mind, it was never that brutal.

The headlines of today’s morning newspaper mention a dismembered body, completely drained of all blood. Shreds of your former fiancé were discovered somewhere in one of Oxford's slums. The incident probably makes people sick to their stomach, but your guts are fine. You only felt disgust while reading those lies about what a wonderful son and noble man he was, and what a loss to his parents and the country. It does hurt to see that no one knows what monster he truly was. Well, it is not your problem anymore. Actually, you could thank him for the chance he gave you to have a better life.

Much better life with your new protector. Your new world. Lord Choi Jongho.

However, the news has ruined your day. You have been feeling restless all day, missing him with all your being. You have barely touched any food or left your room. You also told your maids to not disturb you, letting them in only to prepare you a hot bath. He has not left your thoughts even for a second today, leaving you hoping he comes back as soon as possible.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you put on your white night dress. There is a little aching in your muscles from the lack of entertainment since morning. It makes you groan when you decide to massage your neck. The hot bath helped you feel a little better, so you are grateful to your lovely maids.

Phlegmatically, you start brushing your long locks when the rain outside suddenly grows stronger, now pelting at your window. At first you ignore it but the sound of a quiet thunder makes you turn your face towards the window. Lighting flashes on your face as you strongly pull the heavy blinds to one side, another roar of the storm follows after a few seconds.

"Perfect." You mumble, blinking quickly after the sudden flash of light manages to blind you. The weather only worsens your mood. You hate storms with a burning passion. It also reminds you of him as he always accompanies you when the brutal weather does not let you feel relaxed. But he’s not here right now.

You flinch at a sudden knocking on your door. In the manor you grew up in, you could hear someone approaching your room from meters away, because of the floor creaking. The floor here also isn't quiet, but somehow you never hear the maids, or Jongho coming.

You clear your throat before calling. "Come in!"

You let go of the blinds, reaching for the brush to resume combing your hair, as a short, skinny girl slides inside your bedroom, curtseying before you.

"My lady."

"What is it, Annabelle?” You ask dispassionately but still trying to make your tone sound kind. "I told you and Sybil to leave me alone, didn't I?"

"Yes, my lady, you certainly did. But you also ordered earlier that we inform you about the lord's whereabouts. I come to announce my lord's arrival back to the mansion. He is asking if you would like to join him for a glass of wine before going to bed.” She continues, her pretty face smiling from ear to ear, knowing well she brings good news to you. “The heavy storm is getting closer, so my lord also thought you would feel better if you had company until it calms down."

You stand up rapidly, almost dropping the brush on the ground as you turn to the maid. You can't hide your excitement. He finally came back. Thank God. He left a week ago and everyday was like torture for you. After hearing today's news, you have craved his presence more than ever.

"Alas-" You shout excitedly, quickly realizing how loud it sounded. "I mean... Yes, I would like to join Lord Choi for a glass of wine."

“My lord foresaw that answer.” Annabelle smiles at you, being vividly happy to see your mood change. "He will be waiting for you in ten minutes in the main saloon.”

When she sees your nod at her announcement, she curtseys again before leaving you. "My lady"

The moment the maid closes the door behind her, you run to your vanity. Your hair is already brushed but you notice how gray your skin looks. Still, not as gray as Annabelle or Sybil's, but the whole day of boredom and overthinking indeed seemed to exhaust you. Despite the lack of life on your face, your eyes start to shine with a familiar glow. A glow only he can awake in you. You bite your lips and pinch your cheeks to bring some blood to your face.

At the finish, you slide on a red, silk robe on. His favorite color as he once mentioned.

You already got used to the prevailing rules in this house; no lady and lord calling between you two, no severe etiquette. It was like stepping into a different world. It didn’t take you long to adapt since you hate hierarchy like that. You enjoy life now. If your mother only knew you were walking around in a thin night dress under a robe in the house of a man that you are not related to, she would surely faint. You couldn't care less though.

You no longer have a mother or family. All you have is him.

After ten minutes, you walk down the wide, winding stairs. It is pretty dark as the candles are unable to illuminate such a large, dark space. Fortunately, after a year of living here you already know every inch by heart.

The storm is getting closer with every second now. A glare of a lightning, soon followed by thunder, illuminates the whole mansion making you jump in fear.

While reaching the ground floor you notice a warm, weak light at the end of the main hall which makes you smile subconsciously. The light is leading you to the main saloon where he is supposedly waiting for you.

Your eyes go to him the same moment you enter the room. He is standing with his back facing you, looking at the unraveling storm outside the tall window. His palms are clasped behind his back as he faces the thunders, not bothered by the noise. Jongho is an embodiment of the peace you have craved for all week.

He is here. You do not want to think about what would've happened to you if he didn't find you back then, a year ago.

After your disappointed parents threw you out of your family house, you were wandering the misty streets of Oxford, completely soaked from pouring rain. Your fiancé's grand plan to ruin your family's reputation was a success. Deceived by his promises of mad love, you gave yourself to him before the wedding. And he used it to accuse you of betrayal with some non-existent man. With no way to prove your innocence, you were ostracized and your family immediately cut you off to save the last shreds of dignity. All that to take revenge on your father for some old grudge his family had against yours.

You were miserable, you had given up with no place to go. Since news about the lewd Lady (y/l/n) spread quickly, people passing you by looked at you with disgust on their face.

But suddenly someone stopped in front of you, putting their black umbrella above your head. A mysterious lord. His deep, black eyes and gentle smile helped you survive. Since you had nothing to lose and you needed to vent your pain, you didn't care if it was a stranger listening.

There was something about him that made you tell him your story. You were certain that he would act just like everyone else, but he didn’t. He took care of you, he listened. You could see the anger in his eyes when you uncovered the ugly truth about how you were treated.

Then, Jongho took you to London, gave you a new last name, a new life, far away from those rumors and hateful looks. You could finish your education and do more things than any other woman in England could. Just when you thought you would never trust anyone, there he was.

"Are you going to stare at me like that all night?" His gentle, amused voice interrupted you, drowning in your memories. You straighten your back at his words and gulp softly. A heat burns your cheeks at your own carelessness.

"Forgive me. I did not want to disturb you watching the storm. I know you love this type of..." You gasp quietly as he slowly turns and looks at you with that mysterious gaze that you know so well. After a year you still can't read him which was drawing you to him even more. “...weather.”

His raven black, tidy hair contrasts perfectly with his white colored blouse. A ruby brioche at his neck that shines with red glow.

Sudden lighting illuminates him entirely from behind, showing you the outlines of his perfect body underneath the shirt. His broad shoulders make you breathe faster. It is safe to say Jongho is the most beautiful man your eyes have ever seen.

Graceful in every movement. Eloquent with every word he says. So intimidating, which always makes you blush and loudly swallow. But he is also kind, with a one of a kind sense of humor. Each of your new London friends thinks he is none other than your distant cousin. And they all find him pretty scary but witheringly attractive.

"I have heard that you have not eaten anything today and that you did not leave your room until now.” A sudden change of his tone disturbs your inappropriate thoughts.

You drop your gaze to your feet.

"I presume birds brought you the news." You threw a look at Annabelle and Sybil, who are now preparing two glasses and a bottle of wine at the table. They are avoiding your eyes, feeling uncomfortable with your sharp gaze on them. You only reassure yourself in the conviction that the telegram you saw Sybil writing this morning was indeed for him.

"They really worry about you, (y/n). Especially Annabelle. I tried my best to come home as soon as I could after seeing the news." He lowers his head a little, vividly curious about your reaction.

You feel butterflies form in your stomach, hearing he rushed as fast as he could to you. You look at him with a gentle smile, thanking him.

Lighting flashes again, bringing loud thunder with it as he asks.

"Do you, perhaps, feel saddened?"

Your smile disappears. You look each other in the eyes for a longer second until you break eye contact so he doesn't see what your mind is full of right now. You start moving towards the black wooden table after the girls left you both alone. You pour wine into both glasses.

"No." You smile, licking your lips before taking a big sip of a red liquid.

Jongho observes your every move, visibly surprised with your tone.

"Do you think I should?”

"I do not think he deserves any compassion from you.” He moves closer, not taking his eyes off of you.

"Does it make me an evil person?” You ask, taking another sip of the alcohol. Your tolerance isn’t strong, so you already feel the wine messing with your head. Or maybe it is the effect of his simple existence.

"If all evil people were as evil as you, the world would be a paradise.” He halts right behind you, hoping you won't run away as you always have.

"Paradise…” You echo, surprised and amused at the same time. “I don’t think so. I'm stained after all. Sex before marriage is a big sin. My future lies in a convent anyway.”

You put the wineglass to your lips emptying the glass.

"Future and convent in one sentence.” He chuckles, standing dangerously close to you. “That’s new.”

"Well..." You start slowly, trying so hard to control your breathing. "I've been actually thinking about it. One day I will have to leave this place and since I'm a fallen woman, there is no chance for me to become what I was meant to become - a good wife and one day, a mother. England has no use of me. Convent is my only option, don't you think? You don’t want me to ruin your reputation."

"Can't you tell I don't really care about my reputation, darling?" His lips are right beside your ear, sending shivers down your heated body. "But if people finding out your true identity bothers you so much, we will move to another place. We can do it even tonight. France, Italy, Spain, China. We can leave here and now and be whoever we want to be. In France, I can be your cousin. In Italy, I can be my fiancé and in China... your husband?"

Each word recited with his hot breath teases the skin of your neck, his hard member boldly pressed against your back. When Jongho hears your soft gasp, he grabs your hips, spinning you around to face him.

You stare into his deep eyes, full with a growing fire. You can't help but breathe faster, feeling his body glued to yours. He, noticing that, smirks at you.

"You're not a fallen woman, (y/n). You're a free woman. Can I finally prove that to you?"

You don’t even have a chance to say anything before his long fingers entangle around the back of your neck, bringing you closer so your lips can finally meet. You are surprised at the suddenness and force, but you quickly adjust, equally as hungry. That kiss is long overdue.

The storm gains strength above the mansion, but all you can hear is your pounding heart and both your heated breaths.

You can't help but moan into the kiss you have dreamt of for so long. He pushes you back onto the table behind you, kissing you so passionately that you forget whose air you are breathing His knee suddenly thrusts between your thighs, stopping them from rubbing against each other.

Whimpering at the action, you grab his waist to not lose balance. Moans begin leaving your previously abused mouth, as he’s now mercilessly attacking your neck. The cotton fabric of his pants was rubbing against your core. With every move, Jongho deepens the intensity of his leg between your trembling thighs. You mewl in delight as he pulls you closer to his chest.

"Move your hips for me, darling. The same way you move them so seductively with the pillow between your legs at night when you're all alone." He groans into your ear, sucking on your earlobe.

You slightly open your eyes at his words. How does he know? You always try your best to be quiet and leave no traces of your moments of weakness. Did he hear you, see you?

The thought Jongho might've listened to your quiet whimpers or that he peeked inside while your neediness made you lower your guard adds another wave of arousal to your already weeping pussy.

"Ride my thigh. I want your essence all over my thigh.” He purrs.

You follow the command without hesitation, desperate for more friction. You feel the tension building up in your body as you are grinding at his thigh muscles. He bites his lower lip, watching how you repeat the dance of your hips from all the previous nights when you were pleasuring yourself and he fought hell to not storm in your bedchamber and ravage you sweet holes.

“Yes, just like that.” His groans have you trembling. With an impatient move he pulls your night dress up. “I fantasized about it way too many times. Ride it, darling.”

Jongho pins you even harder to the table, moving fast in an opposite direction which causes your mouth to let out silent moans and loud gasps. His hand never leaves your neck, only tightening the grasp to keep you where he wants to have you. The other impatient arm wraps around your waist to secure you from falling back onto the table.

"Cum as hard as you need, as loud as you want. No one will judge you here.” His burning eyes are now studying your face contorted with immense pleasure and desperation for release. Your eyes closed as you're indulging in the sensation.

"Look at me." He commands from behind his teeth. "I want you to look at me when you fall apart."

You half-open your eyes, but you can barely see him through your hazy sight. You are so close to the edge that the motion of your hips starts to become sloppy and uneven.

Lightning keeps flashing inside the room, and the walls shudder from the thunder that comes with the light.

And then you see it. A moment when two worlds meet. You swear you saw black voids for eyes staring right at you for a short second. You smile, happy that all your suspicions were true.

It finally showed up. Jongho's truth.

Even though the vision is gone, and you are looking Jongho's chocolate pupils again, you know it all now.

You have a creature of the night in front of you, with his thigh rubbing between your legs, making you see the stars. The view of his face watching you intensively with those lustful eyes and his clenching jaw is enough to bring you to your high fast, right on the edge.

"Jongho.. I…" You whine loudly as he pulls you as close to his body as possible, sliding his thigh back and forth.

“Yes, darling. Say my name.” He breathes out, before sucking on your neck’s pulsepoint.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, as the bliss explodes within you. The waves of your overpowering heat hit one after another. You feel the strength leaving your body as the spasms slowly begin to fade. You give up completely, falling into his strong embrace.

Jongho slows down, peacefully rub the last ounces of high out of you while pressing you against his strong chest.

"You sing so sweetly from pleasure.” He whispers into your neck. "I want to hear it over and over again."

Pulling his thigh from underneath you, Jongho hisses in satisfaction at all the juices covering his pants. In gratitude, he reaches for your lips. He pampers your mouth with his eager kiss, his own tongue flicking over the soft flesh, gently caressing the sweet taste of you.

You're too enchanted by his perfect kiss to register that he begins to gently strip you of your robe. Your nightgown gets quickly unbuttoned by his skillful fingers and ends up on the floor in no time. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss to sit you up onto the table. The coldness of the surface causes you to recover a bit from your high.

"Look at your painting, (y/n)." He looks down at his left thigh. You completely soaked it. Your face heats up. Your juices glistening in the pale candle light, and a series of lightning strikes.

He steals another kiss, finding your embarrassment cute.

"I want the same on my tongue."

Your eyes grow bigger. What does he mean? You have to admit you still have zero experience but tongue? Down there?

"What are you doing?” You panic, still panting as he spreads your quivering legs wider, kneeling between them.

"He never did it for you?" He asks, looking up at you in surprise.

"Umm, no." You can't focus due to his hot breath blowing at your puffy folds. His laugh caused by your answer only adds new waves of sensation. You lick your lips feeling their dryness caused by your excitement. Seeing his handsome face framed by your thighs, it stirs something inside you.

"Please." You whimper quietly.

"Since you're asking so nicely. I could never say no to you.” He teases, raising his brow at your shamelessness. He's visibly satisfied with your sudden change.

You don't mean to beg, you really don't. But every bit of your control goes out the window. Your body is speaking up for you, while your common sense and shame are locked up somewhere deep down.

His wet, lazy kisses make invisible marks on your inner thigh, preparing for the act. The sight, the feeling of him licking and sucking on your skin, cleaning you up from the previous release make you want to go insane. The sounds he makes while doing it, like he's tasting heaven, doesn’t help.

Jonghi lifts your legs, laying them over his shoulders for better access, causing you to fall back a little and support yourself with your hands behind.

He graces your clit with small kisses, receiving little whimpers from you. He smiles against your core before attacking your folds aggressively.

"Oh-"

There was no time for any proper reaction. Every muscle in your body tense up from the circling motions of his tongue. He runs it through your lower lips, pulling and sucking on them with a popping sound. You feel the heat quickly spreading through your whole body from the spot where he had been pleasing you.

“Fuuuck.” He mumbles with his mouth full of you. With his tongue he delves in your entrance, his brows frowning as he can't contain his arousal from the way you taste so good.

“Jongho…” You’re bewitched by the view of his restless mouth, feeding on your needy cunt. This feeling is new with the level of intimacy you have never reached before. You feel lewd, seen, absolutely scandalous. And you love it. All of it. Your hip begins to move to his rhythm, craving for more.

“Pass me the glass." He says suddenly, parting from your throbbing pussy, causing you to groan in disappointment. "Behind you, darling.”

You looked over your shoulder to see your empty glass and the glass with the wine he hasn't drunk yet.

Seeing your confusion, he chuckles, “The full one.”

You carefully hand him the liquor, sure that he wants to quench his thirst. But that is not his plan. He is going to quench his thirst but not with wine.

Out of nowhere he raises the glass in your direction and starts carefully pouring the wine down your chest.

You gasp, stunned, trying not to move and disturb him. You are just looking down at him, completely focused on the red streams that were slowly flowing between your breast, down your stomach and to your womanhood.

His tongue revisiting your pussy, nimbly licking off the wine.

"Oh my…" You moan loudly, as he starts drinking the liquor off your folds.

Satisfied with how the wine easily flows down its path, Jongho begins to pour more, creating a bigger and faster river that he messily slurps along with your juices until the glass is empty.

You can't keep yourself up any longer. Your hands give up on you causing you to fall back onto the table. The pleasure is overwhelming, making your back arch. Although your sight is hazy, you want to see him again, down there, devouring you like it was his last meal. The room is beginning to dim as the candles are on their last burn. Lighting was the only source of light now.

"J-Jongho!" You call to him among your loud moans.

Then you see it again, two black voids fixated on your face. The sight of Jongho's true side that he apparently can't control whilst being filled with lust, gives you greater satisfaction. He sharply throws the glass aside, shattering it on the wall. Then, he wraps his arms behind your thighs, pinning you down to the table. His tongue quickens, flicking across your clit making you see white.

"Jong- Oh!” You slip as a strong orgasm crashes over you, twisting your body with unimaginable pleasure. Your hands grab both sides of the table, feeling your warmth flooding on Jongho's tongue and lips. He sucks on your clit, bringing every last bit of your orgasm out of you and taking his time to clean your pussy of your essence and the rest of the wine.

"Mmmm. You taste too sweet. Too delicious for the covent." He coos, his voice heavy with arousal. He starts tracing his way back up your body with his tongue, slowly following the trails of sticky wine, ending it with hungry kisses all over your neck and jaw.

"So?" He asks as his face aligned with yours. You dare to look into his eyes as he hovers over you.

"So?" You repeat, out of breath.

"Are you feeling free yet?" He smirks with a sinful spark in his eyes.

You know exactly what he's asking about.

You return the smile, "Not yet."

With these words he straightens up and rips open his wine stained blouse, throwing its shreds on the floor. The ruby brooch clatters somewhere on the wooden panels.

You cannot take your eyes off his perfect body. You fantasized about it so many times but it's still more than you could ever imagine.

"Like what you see?" He asks, amused by your awe. He begins to unbelt, then takes off his black pants that were soaked with your cum. “Cause I like my view very much."

You wish to sit up but Jongho stops you, climbing on the table hovering over your body. His enormous frame towering over you makes you feel so small and vulnerable.

He leans down and kisses you incredibly slowly, you melt over the taste of his, yours and the wine that linger on his lips. You feel it with the deepest, darkest corners of your soul, returning the affection with quiet moans. You are his, from the first sight. Maybe it is an illness of falling in love with your savior or maybe it is real. You don't care. You stopped caring about details a long time ago.

"What happened, (y/n)?” He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “You resisted me for so long and today you serve yourself on a golden platter."

You smile and flick your tongue on his lips.

“You killed him for me” You moan out, feeling his warm cock, throbbing against your abdomen. “Didn’t you?”

He pulls himself up, taken aback at your words. His dark eyes study your face, searching for any sign of fear or doubts. But he finds none of it.

“(Y/n), I…?”

“I know everything, Jongho. I’ve known for some time now.” You explain, almost moaning out every word. You’re squirming with neediness underneath him.

You heard Sybil tell the postman to take the telegram to Jongho. To Oxford. You connected everything in an instant. You couldn't help but imagine him covered in your fiancé's blood which made you go insane with lust.

“I’m all yours to take.” You declare.

With every word leaving your mouth his eyes are getting darker. It is his dream come true. You, accepting what he is and what he is able to do for you.

He claims your quivering lips once more. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders you let his tongue penetrate your mouth, wrestling with yours while his length found its way to your pussy, rubbing on your dripping folds.

“I won’t be gentle. I can't.” He warns, breaking away from the dazing kiss. "I waited a whole year. Twelve, long months. Over three hundred, fucking days of controlling myself and keeping my hands to myself. No more."

"Take as much as you need. As rough as you want." You say, giving him the allowance, using your version of his own words. You want him to fuck you into that wooden table. "Just take me, Jongho."

Leaning down to your neck, he draws a long breath, inhaling your scent that turned his life upside down the moment he sensed it for the first time. He remembers vividly how you passed him by on one of the streets in Oxford. Despite the crowd, your scent was like vines, climbing up his legs and making them follow after you. As any vampire would, he craved to feed on you. The initial plan was to take you away, seduce you so he could sink his fangs anytime he felt thirsty. But then he heard your story. And to his own surprise, he didn't want to take advantage of it. He wanted to protect you, punish people who had hurt you and keep you under his wings. He dared to dream of having you near until the end of time.

“So delicate.” He hums against your neck and ear. “So fragile, so… human. Yet, your sweet blood has never tempted me to taste it. I want to make it burn your veins with lust, need and love. I want to smell it racing as I kiss you, touch you. I want to hear it pulsating in your thighs while I eat your precious pussy out for hours. I want to listen to it beat in your heart that I want to protect. I will never let a drop of it to shed. I swear it to you.”

You suck in a soft breath at his declaration. You are left speechless as he kisses your pulsepoint as a seal to his words.

Both don't speak as your faces align. Jongho holds your gaze as he starts kissing his way down the valley between your breasts. He places a sweet kiss on the left side of your chest to feel your heartbeat under his lips.

You tangle your fingers into his silky hair and gently tug on it. A breathy moan is ripped from your chords as he begins sucking on your nipple, while the other gets captured between his thumb and index finger. He keeps your gaze as he flicks his tongue on your bud.

Grabbing fistfulls of your bosoms, he scoops both and engulfs them with his mouth, sucking and pulling them. His hard cock keeps grinding against your leaking slit.

“Jongho… please.” You whine, feeling like overheating. “Ease this fire.”

At your plea, he lets go of your breasts with a pop sound. The vampire rises up, finally blessing you with all his grace. His impressive size makes you gasp, having your wetness increase instantly. He's so erect you see every little vein decorating his manhood. The tip glistens with precum that you get a sudden urge to taste, your tongue ghosts your dry lips.

Jongho spreads your trembling legs wider, placing them on his hips. The feeling of his hot skin and hardened muscles on your inner thighs causes your core throb with anticipation.

"You want to be fucked by a monster so bad, don’t you?" He taunts with a sinister smirk, guiding his length up and down your folds, spreading your wetness all over his tip. Your whimpers drive him to groan. He takes his time to prepare your pussy for sweet abuse.

"Jongho, please.” You can't take it anymore, but he seems to enjoy the torture. "Fallen or free, just take me."

These words work on him like magic. You hear his dangerous giggle before he grabs the flesh of your hips with his big, hungry hands and slams himself inside you.

You squeal at the sudden stretch of your tight walls and put your hands on his wrists. You haven't had a man inside you for a whole year. Not to mention, you never had someone that big.

Although he warned you about not being gentle with you, you still are not prepared for the power he starts to penetrate you with. He pounds into you hard without any mercy on your poor body and soul. He has all the control over your hips, pulling them and impaling you on his pulsating cock.

"Oo-h l-ord!” You cry out with pleasure.

"So tight, yes. " He growls out, instantly satisfied. “Ah, you're going to make me come quickly, love of mine.”

He slows down after a few more hard thrusts, lowering himself to hover over you again.

You are loudly gasping for air. It's difficult to breathe due to his previous enormous force. His cock, now torturing your insides with a painfully slow pace.

"That's exactly how I imagined you looking underneath me, darling. So tiny and defenseless. Entirely mine." He whispers, licking a long wet strip between your breast, bringing it up to your jaw.

You arch your back, tangling your fingers in his raven hair again.

He laughs quietly at the sudden swirling movement of your hips on his length.

"Mmmm, you're squeezing me so good."

After a few seconds of enjoying the moment, Jongho grabs your legs, placing them onto his shoulders. His cock sinks even deeper into you, making a new series of moans to leave your mouth.

His thrusts become even stronger, taking you beyond your imagination. Your head is spinning, the haze again falls upon your eyes as you hold tight the table's edges above your head. He fills you completely, his throbbing pride rubbing all the right places.

You can't make any kind of sound. The fire between your thighs starts spreading all over your body.

"I'm.. Jongh… please, please!" You scream repeatedly as waves of indescribable ecstasy start to flood you, making your body spasm again. Loud moans mixed with roars of thunder fills the mansion.

"Fuuck, yes, sweetheart." He joins you in the lewd ritual, feeling your walls closing around his length, squeezing him. Jongho straightens his back, throwing his head back, pushing into you slowly, riding both your highs.

You feel his cock twitch as he unloads his warmth inside you. And it’s followed by a sudden, loud, bloodcurdling laugh that makes you look up at him.

This time you see more than just two black voids instead of the chocolate eyes of your lover. Long fangs glisten in the dark. His whole face, covered in black veins as he's savoring in ecstasy.

"J-Jongho…" You call out breathlessly, feeling like your high grew back intensively, just at the view of his true form that you have fantasized about so many times.

Breathing heavily, he lets his gaze fall down at you. The sinister smile is still painted on his lips. He gives you a few last slow thrusts just so he can watch your face and listen to your adorable whimpers again. You then felt his length slowly sliding out of you followed by his thick seed dripping from your hole. He stared at his masterpiece for a short instant and laid himself on your side.

"You're so beautiful." You caress his cheek, not able to take your eyes off his face. A face that other people would call a monster. You stare at him in awe as his true form starts to fade, being replaced with his human side.

“Beautiful? You find this beautiful.?” He grins with his sharp teeth. You love when the real mischief takes over his lord persona. “And I am here, wondering why you're not having a heart attack. I tried to control my form to not come out but you feel oh so good.”

His finger runs down your body, that's covered and filled with liquids. You still want more, and Jongho can sense it.

“You are beautiful, no matter the form.” You insist, yet your voice sounds weak and shaky as his hand slides between your legs.

He captures your lips, teasing your tongue with his. He swallows your moans, as his hand massages your needy clit.

“You were truly made for me.” He whispers in your lips. “So unsatisfied, desperate for more… Do you want my fingers inside you, darling?”

“Yes…” You feel drunk. He makes you feel more intoxicated than any alcohol ever has.

“You want me to use my cum inside your precious little pussy as a lube and fuck you with my fingers, hm?”

You nod eagerly with no shame whatsoever.

“Say it, sweetness. Use your pretty voice and tell me what you want.”

“I want you… to fuck me… with your fingers, please.” You begged with a pathetic, high-pitched voice.

The confidence his digits slide into you steals the breath from your lungs. The squelching sounds immediately filled the room, disturbing the silence among your moans and the thunder. His fingers are restless as, thanks to his rich filling they go in and out of you like a knife in the most ripe fruit.

You arch your spine as Jongho curls them and his fingertips rub that sweet point that doubles the volume of your cries.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there!”

He uses the opportunity of your exposed neck, and he gently bites the soft skin, not enough to pierce through it, but enough to leave a trace.

“Fuck, (y/n).” He whispers, with a tone of praise. You reacting to everything he does to you, makes his chest swell with pride.

It encourages him.

As a vampire, his strength and never-ending stamina pushes you over the edge the next second after his hand starts racing up and down at a determined, overwhelming speed, playing your whole body like an instrument.

You come once, screaming against the thunder. Then again, but this time you make no sound. You can't, as the pleasure of a thousand suns cages the breath in your lungs.

With his lips glued to your throat, he groans at the way your body trembles as he forces his cum out of you.

“No, no… Jongo, wait… stop…”

He giggles as you push his hand away after his finger starts flicking your core again.

“I would’ve killed him much sooner if I knew it'd cause you to finally scream in pleasure underneath me.” He whispers, placing calming kisses on your marked neck as your hands are roaming all over his back.

You can only smile at his words, tired after the long awaited fulfillment. Seeing your state, Jongho carefully picks you up from the table. You feel him cover you with your robe he had ripped off you.

You don’t remember the trip to his chambers where he carried you in his arms. You don't know where you are until you feel warm water embracing your exhausted body. You open your eyes to see him gently wiping and massaging your skin.

"How delicate, Lord Choi." You give him a tired but content smile. "I clearly remember you saying you wouldn’t be gentle with me."

Jongho grins before saying, "Don't worry. This is only the beginning."

Every nerve in your body wakes up as he leans to your neck and places a gentle kiss.

“I need some time to shape you for me. I don't want to hurt you. Then, I swear there won't be any surface left in this house where I won't take you on, sweetness.”

Then his focus is back on cleaning your body, however the sinister spark never leaves his eyes. You know this night isn't over, wondering what the state the dawn will find you in.

Your eyes wander to the window in front of you. You see the lighting dancing in the distance but you don't hear any thunder accompanying it anymore.

The storm is over. You indulge in the peaceful darkness of the night.

I repost this one shot cause I wasn't satisfied with it. I couldn't even look at it anymore and I like the idea 🥲 Hope you like it! I added some new plot, too!

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ssunnysdream · 3 months

Text

kissing their hands

🧷 SFW, gender neutral, fluff, a bit suggestive for sunday's and gepard's part because they are touch starved, hurt/comfort for boothill and blade, aventurine's part is just fluff at its finest, enjoy °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

ps: this is my first try at writing fluff hope this is good!!

–‧˚꒰☁️꒱༘⋆ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

His reaction was predictable, to say the least, as you were aware he wasn't really used to being touched. Sunday is a collected man and the high position he is in was shown through his outfit barely displaying any skin. The only naked part is on the cross like pattern on top of his gloves. Thus when your warm lips gets in contact with the surprising coldness of his skin, he lets out a soft gasp. You can't tell if his reaction is from shock or pleasure. Maybe both. He doesn't push you away though, when you slide his glove off his hand, to slowly kiss the inside of his wrist. You leave a trail of delicate kisses before nuzzling your cheek into his now warming palm. His face is flushed as you stared up at him. You smile when he strokes you cheek, kissing more of his hand to hear more of his whimpers.

–‧˚꒰☁️꒱༘⋆ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

Same as Sunday, he actually isn't used to be touched against people's beliefs. If he ever lets you touch him, it's because he trusts you with his life. That's it. When you take his hand to kiss his ringed fingers one by one, he is watching you closely and intensely as if it was more intimate than a kiss on the lips. As his glove doesn't fully cover his hand, you take advantage of it to leave a trail of kisses all along the line of the dark fabric. In a final act of affection you trace a heart pattern with the tip of your nose over his hand. Aventurine's gentle laugh makes your heart flutters as your lips brushes his ring finger. You kiss the digit with so much care he could perceive how much you love him and he got the message you implied: you wish there was a wedding ring there.

–‧˚꒰☁️꒱༘⋆ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

As a cyborg, he wouldn't feel what it's like to have your lips on his robotic hand. But he can recreate in his mind the sensations of that warmth from his past memories, even if it won't be the same. He gives you permission to kiss his hand once he made sure he deactivated his offensive functions. He wouldn't want to accidentally blow your face in the process. You shiver as your lips get onto the freezing metal, cooling the warmth of your lips. If he could feel something, he would perceive how your kisses are feather like on him. He silently studies your face, noticing the softness of your ministrations and how you take your time on him as if he could break. At this instant, he'd do anything to be able to get his sensations back. To be able to sense your delicate touch. You kiss the tip of his robot digits one by one and quickly peck his lips to quiet down his intrusive thoughts.

–‧˚꒰☁️꒱༘⋆ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

From the outiside he looks emotionless. But you know he actually is enjoying you taking care of him even if he keeps quiet, as usal. When you finish to clean up his wound and wrap up his hand in a bandage, you stare up at him and find nothing but a blank face. You start stroking his palm, purposely avoiding his hidden cut. The soothing gesture is making Blade stares more vividly at you and you cheer up internally. Feeling more daring, you give his covered wound the softest kiss, barely touching the fabric. He groans but it isn't in pain. If it was, he would have shove you away. His glare on you is rather serene and thankful. And it leads you into kissing more of his hand. The very same hand he keeps cutting over and over is now covered in the most gentle way with kisses.

–‧˚꒰☁️꒱༘⋆ 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃

Oh you lived for seeing his blushed face whenever you teased him. And that's what encouraged you to take him by surprise and lift up his hand to kiss the back of it. He gasps, his eyes widening when you slowly strip his hand off of his glove to reveal more of his pale skin. You hide your smirk by hotly kissing the bare skin, lightly biting the flesh connecting his wrist and his thumb. You move to his knuckles once you're satisfied with the pinkish marks you left behind. You boldly stick out your tongue to lick along his index finger, sucking the tip and biting once again. His cheeks are now a deeper shade of pink, how adorable~ How about you mess him up a bit more ?

#honkai star rail #sunday x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #gepard x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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dadsbongos · 3 months

Note

So I recently had a thought about Chilchuck x reader. While drinking, Chilchuck discovers that the reader is a complete lightweight who got drunk after 2 drinks. Not only that, but reader who is usually reserved and quiet becomes rather giggly, vocal, and the smallest bit flirty. Maybe he sees what happens when the reader becomes even more drunk and backs himself into a corner when they become very flirty and forward about their feelings for him? :3

642 words / warnings - you imply you want to bang chilchuck maybe? idk its a vague comment take it how you will ~~~

Saying he was excited to see beneath the veil of brooding silence would go against his entire modus operandi, so Chilchuck would never say it aloud.

Yet he cannot fight the quiet snicker leaving him as you drunkenly giggle over some terribly unfunny joke spat by a tipsy Marcille. Party morale nights were his favorite: free ale and free entertainment.

“You should join us more often!” Marcille cheers.

“Oh, no,” you drawl, staring into your emptied mug -- your first mug, might he add, “I’m not a big drinker.”

“Obviously,” Chilchuck cannot bite the remark before it slithers out.

“Hey!” you whine, swirling on your stool you glare at him. Cheek smushed against your fist, “I’m just not a fan…”

“Because it reveals your actually tolerable side?”

“Rude!”

Chilchuck might’ve been worried about hurting your feelings if you weren’t laughing quietly, eyes fluttering shut as you hum displeased at his jab. That infamous furrow in your brows coming to life as you mull over a response, soft scowl dragging soon after.

“I think you said something you didn’t mean to, Chilchuck…”

“Huh?”

Refocusing your stare on him, you lean forward, “You pretty much just said I’m cuter when I drink.”

“Is that how you took it?”

“It’s what you meant.”

Rolling his eyes, albeit with a chest full of mirth and warm cheeks, “Right.”

“I hope it was, anyway,” you confess, smile widening regardless of his following shock.

“What do you mean by that?!” he has to grab the table, knuckles whitening, to prevent from slipping backwards.

Shrugging coyly, you dip further into his personal space. Smelling of beer and perfume, “What do you want it to mean, Chilchuck?”

“You’re not making any sense,” he mutters, bringing up his maizer for a distracting gulp. Clenching his eyes shut when he can still make out the pretty way your lashes crown your cheeks each blink.

That itself is a mistake because now the sugary tones of your voice are further heightened in his reddening ears,

“There’s no shame, Chilchuck, I think you’re plenty cute.”

“Excuse you?” he’s thankful none of your party members catch his exclamation, or the slam of his cup against the table.

“Sorry,” you blurt, a muted gasp preceding your slurring afterthought, “Not cute in a demeaning way. Cute like I think you’d look nice in my bed.”

His jaw clatters to the floor: no way this is the same combat mage he’s been working with for months. The one that could barely return Marcille’s small talk without clamming up. The one that dodges Laios’ every attempt at monster-education. The one that quietly slips out of Falin’s sight whenever a protection spell violating personal space is required. The one that outranks Toshiro in most unapproachable. The one with a most notorious resting frown on their face.

Chilchuck was convinced you didn’t even like him as a coworker until you eagerly sat beside him at the table instead of joining Namari.

“W- what…?”

“You’re really attractive, seriously,” you bumble through the syllables, nose wrinkling in a disarmingly adorable chuckle at yourself, “I sound silly, huh?”

Rather than assure you he hardly cares, or that he’ll silently forget this entire admission, Chilchuck nods curtly and buries his nose into his cup again, “Yep.”

“Sorry, Chilchuck,” voice a coo, you relax back until you’re now invading Laios’ space. Head against the blonde’s shoulder.

Chilchuck’s most horrifying realization is that he’s awfully jealous of Laios in that moment.

But instead of saying that, he snarks bitterly,

“Tell me again when you’re sober.”

“Okay!”

Such sincerity makes him roll his eyes again, and once again he’s full of fondness and affection despite it all. Part of him even mourns how wasted you are, knowing you’ll wake up tomorrow with a headache and no memory of this: returning to the sulky attack mage he barely talks to.

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #nonny.requests.🥝

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chelseeebe · 22 days

Text

never leave (nevermind)

18+ mdni. canon compliant sorta kinda. takes place during the events of s4. violent scenes described. r and eddie are exes. reader gets vecna'd. lots of angst.

a/n: i've been writing this on and off for what feels like months and it's definitely noticeable in parts where my writing improves drastically. howeverrr, i've been wanting to write something s4 related for a while bc most of my fics are au's and as fun as they are, the canon material is also v fun (just very difficult to translate into a fic)

8.9k words.

being home for spring break meant one thing; avoiding eddie munson like the plague.

it wasn’t exactly easy what with being practically neighbours but you’d certainly tried to make yourself invisible around the trailer park.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you hadn’t seen him for eleven months, not even a trace of that wild hair until one friday night when his van screamed down the gravel road, music bleating loud enough for you to hear inside. you’d known it was d&d night, he still held the club at the high school and no doubt would still be in charge of it, even after he eventually graduates.

you shouldn’t have even looked. it’s not like you wanted to see him. just curious as to why he felt the need to make so much noise so late at night.

that’s when your eyes saw her, green hawkins high skirt and the fluffy ponytail to match, flouncing out of the van without a care in the world.

chrissy cunningham wasn’t exactly who you’d imagined eddie would go for. she was prim and proper, wasn’t into smoking weed and talking about ozzy osbourne but pom poms and cheer routines instead.

it shouldn’t even hurt.

you’d been broken up for the best part of a year, away to college, living what was supposed to be your best life.

but it does.

pangs through your chest in insurmountable waves, rushing to duck down beneath the window before either of them saw you peeking.

you don’t dare look out again, maybe it was the fear of being caught or more likely for fear of hurting yourself anymore.

eddie’s single, he can do what or whomever he likes.

slinking back into the couch, hoping the crackly tv would drown out any of the lingering thoughts.

a sharp, stabbing sensation rings through your head, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to shut it down.

only since you’d been back here, in hawkins had you felt it. people always whispered about how this town was cursed, perhaps it was you after all, bringing the bad luck to the innocent people of this shit hole.

you drag your feet along the corridor to your bedroom, deciding that being buried beneath your blanket was better than constantly punishing yourself with sly glances out the window.

a multitude of fists pummel at your door, sunlight just barely breaking through the clouds as your eyes open.

nothing in this world could be so important to cause this reaction, especially not at this time of the day.

you slink to the door, grumbling your way through the trailer.

the door swings open, revealing a very out of breath dustin henderson and max mayfield, looking frantic as they pant on your doorstep.

“what the hell? it’s nine am,” you grunt, wondering how the two even knew you were home.

being with eddie had meant you’d come to adopt the gaggle of kids he played d&d with, driving them to and from games, offering a place to stay when their parents thought they were at each others houses while they were actually fighting monsters.

the usual.

the monster stuff was secondary, getting thrown into the deep end last summer after what was supposed to be a shitty mall job to save up for college, had turned into slimy monsters trying to kill you.

eddie had only really seen the aftermath, the piles of what remained of starcourt on the floor and the cuts that littered your limbs. you had told him that night what had actually happened, terrified that the government were listening at your door, ready and waiting to throw you in jail for speaking about what you’d seen.

dustin had made it very clear that you had to be careful not to talk too openly about it, delving into the whole world that rumbled beneath your town.

you weren’t exactly eager to relive that night in the mall, a haze of slobbering monsters and telekinetic little girls. putting it to the back of your mind as some weird fever dream, a symptom of living in hawkins.

“eddie’s in trouble,” dustin frowns, “is your mom here?” forcing himself into the trailer, max at his heels.

“no she’s not-” closing the door behind the rude tweens, “i’m sorry- what’d you say?” hoping you’d misheard him.

he peers down the hall, lousily checking the perimeter, “eddie’s in trouble,” completely serious.

“and what does that have to do with me?” putting your hands on your hips, hoping to display some sort of authority, though it rendered useless against their stubborn attitudes.

“remember the mall?” he deadpans, grabbing the phone from your wall as max pulls out a list of numbers.

“yeah? i’m still not.. why’re you here? you can’t help him at his trailer?”

dustin sighs, long and exaggerated, “he’s not at his trailer. we don’t know where he is,” aggressively punching in numbers, “and why didn’t you tell me you were back? i thought we were friends!” ever the sarcastic little dweeb you’d always had a soft spot for.

“i didn’t tell anyone,” shrugging as you slink into the kitchen, deciding that if they were going to stay, you were at least going to need coffee, “i still don’t understand what’s going on!”

“we’ll explain later,” max yells, fumbling around in her backpack.

you tut, relieved that the pounding in your head had subsided at least.

you’re somehow roped into driving the two to family video, receiving the details on the drive over.

cops had swarmed the trailer park by the time you were ready, piling into wayne’s trailer, talking in hushed voices and yelling at anyone that dared to leave their own homes.

wayne had come back from work this morning to find chrissy cunningham’s body on his floor. limbs broken and her eyes weeping with blood.

any sane human would assume it was eddie’s doing. he didn’t exactly hold the best reputation in this damned town, but you knew murder wasn’t anything he was capable of.

“that monster, from the mall,” dustin continues, leaning over the centre console, “that has something to do with this, i know it,” speaking with such confidence that you had no choice but to believe him.

“how do you know that?” you question wearily, pulling into the parking lot, “i’m not saying i don’t believe you, but how do you know for sure?”

“well,” he buffers, “i don’t, but i’m 99.9 percent certain,” hopping out of the car before you can get another word in.

you contemplate just waiting in the car for them to be done with whatever the fuck it is they’re even doing. not keen on seeing more people you really didn’t want to.

you follow them in either way, ducking your head in some half-assed disguise.

“-dustin!” robin squeals, reaching out to grab his arm, “those are my returns, you dweeb!”

she and steve turn to you, perfectly in-sync, ��when the hell did you get back?” speaking in unison. it’d be unsettling if you hadn’t spent the entirety of last summer with them both.

you shake your head, “uh..” regretting your decision not to just wait in the car, “a few days ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” robin huffs, thankfully distracted with the mess dustin was inflicting upon her store to chastise you too badly.

“sorry,” you say meekly, picking up the fallen tapes from the floor as a shitty kind of apology.

she smiles gently at you, before turning back to dustin with a seeding hatred in her eyes, “what are you little nerds even doing here? do you not have anyone else to piss off on a saturday morning?”

“eddie’s in trouble,” dustin repeats for what is probably the thousandth time today, holding the receiver up to his ear.

“oh eddie?” steve quips, “what’d he do this time?”

dustin holds his finger up to shush him, unloading his rehearsed spiel down the phone to whoever.

steve looks over to you for some clarity but you just shrug, not really any wiser on what was actually going than he was.

this goes on for what feels like hours, listening to dustin and max inquire about eddie to each and every person on their call list, just to end up with a dejected frown when absolutely nobody has heard from him.

“rick,” dustin nods, drumming his fingers against the desk, “rick! he said he was going to meet rick today! d’you know where reefer rick lives?” swivelling in his chair to glare at you.

“reefer rick?” robin repeats with such disdain, it’d honestly have been nicer if she’d just laughed in his face.

you shrug, “i don’t know.. maybe?” offering absolutely zero insight whatsoever.

“you know, you were only together for four years,” he snarls, doing nothing to help his cause.

“oh i’m so sorry that i can’t remember every single place we went together,” you hiss back.

dustin eyes the empty computer and you can almost see the lightbulb go off above his head. tapping into the family video system as if he had any right to be here.

“you’re not supposed to be on that!” robin hollers, reaching for the mouse though his hands are quicker.

“stop it!” he screeches, typing rapidly into the computer, “jesus christ, how many rick’s are there?” scrolling the plethora of rick names that had appeared.

he figures it out pretty quickly.

realising that reefer rick probably wasn’t using the local video rental store to watch sixteen candles or risky business.

“you know where that is?” he asks steve, tapping the address on screen.

“uh.. i think so,” steve wavers, squinting his eyes.

“great,” dustin shoots up, grabbing his backpack without a second thought, “you drive,” pointing at steve, “you follow,” turning to you, giving zero alternative or chance to protest before he’s out the door, tugging at the handle of steve’s car.

you do as he says, obviously. fearing that if he were to be left alone with robin for too long, she might just wring his neck.

eddie’s nowhere to be found, the house looks empty and his van isn’t here leaving you back at square one.

“he has to be here,” dustin frets, pointing at the large shed on the other side of the yard, “let’s just have a look.. you wanna find him don’t you?” turning to you specifically.

a few years ago you would’ve said yes with zero hesitation but now you’re not sure if you even care. the thought of seeing eddie again makes you a little nauseous. not even owing to the fact that he was a potential murder suspect.

“why’re you looking at me?” you scowl, “i think we should just leave this to the police.”

“no!” stopping dead in his tracks, “they’ll kill him and you know that,” his eyes sharp as everyone falls into silence.

he was right, as he often is. which makes this all the more irritating.

you nod, gesturing for him to continue to the rundown shack behind the house.

there’s nothing in there, at least no signs of one eddie munson.

it all just seems useless. if eddie had used the neglected brain in his head, he’d be far away

from hawkins by now. he was nifty enough to survive on his own, you were sure about that.

steve jabs at the tarpaulin as you peer out of the door and into the quickly darkening night sky, spinning rapidly as the tarp crinkles and something comes flying out.

eddie.

with his hands now pinning steve back against the wall, chest heaving with sheer, seething anger.

only dropping his hold on him when it registers who it actually is, eyes wide and startled.

a million and one feelings rush through your veins. you hadn’t prepared to actually see him again, to now be stilled by the sight of him locking eyes with you.

the slow realisation dawns on him, quickly forgetting that he was a wanted man, all encompassed by your presence in this suddenly stifling shed.

steve gasps for air, breaking the tension and pulling the attention back to him. robin’s quick to soothe his arm while dustin launches into a quick scolding for eddie.

it’s not long before he moves onto the next phase of his master plan, dragging max to the corner to loudly discuss what they should do.

“when’d you get back?” eddie asks, leaning against the dusty wood panelling, “i haven’t seen you..” his voice cracks but he’s unwavering.

good, you thought. though really it was all useless now.

“couple’a days ago..” picking at the wood splinter on the wall, “when’d you start murdering teenagers?” hoping it wasn’t too harsh of a dig.

“ha ha,” he deadpans, running his hand over his face, “you don’t think i did it, do you?” worry seeping through his tone.

you shake your head no, choosing to meet his eyes, a little reassurance that even if you did think he was a loser, you definitely didn’t think he was a murderer too.

he nods, sighing into his palm, “fuck,” deflated, exhausted by the day he had endured, “they’re gonna kill me,” shrunken into himself, resembling a dejected little puppy.

“they’re not gonna kill you,” but your voice shakes a little, not unnoticed by eddie.

“you don’t sound so sure,” he chuckles, turning his gaze to the rotting floorboards. he looked horrible, to put it nicely. the bags under his eyes were dark and his hair an even wilder mess than usual.

“i’m not really,” refusing to lie to him, even now.

he looks up again, unwavering melancholy in his eye, “how’d you find me?”

you glance over at dustin’s busybody, passionately explaining the next steps to an exhausted looking steve, his hands gesturing for a fight. “he tracked down rick’s address from family video and then wouldn’t let us leave until we found you.”

eddie grin grows, finding the motivation to get himself off of the dirty floor, “yeah.. sounds about right.”

you’re too close for comfort now that you’re eye to eye, uncomfortably close while your relationship was still so fragile.

he breaks away first, striding over to dustin, “what’s the plan? i really need you to save my ass, dude.”

dustin nods, vowing to keep eddie alive, no matter what it takes.

dustin doesn’t hang around.

the minute the suns risen, he’s pounding on the bedroom door, waking the sleeping pile of limbs you’d collapsed in.

“i’m gonna kill him.. i’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” robin grumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, staring daggers at the door.

“eddie’s not answering!” he hollers, busting through the door, “we have to go back to rick’s! now!” pulling at nancy’s arm, presuming that steve had told him no to driving him around this early.

you rouse just enough to really see the panicked look on his face, swinging your legs off of the bed to grab his shoulders, “what happened? we can go i just need five minutes.”

“he’s not answering,” panting between his words, “i told him to check in at six! it’s nearly six thirty.. something’s wrong.”

“okay,” you nod, trying to wake yourself up, “okay.. let me get dressed,” finding your discarded pants and practically jumping into them.

dustin’s in the passenger seat before you can even run a brush through your hair, only just able to brush your teeth before he’s got his fist on the horn.

“jesus christ dude,” you exclaim, shoving the keys into the ignition and speeding off before he has the chance to chastise you again.

you’re grateful that it’s still early and the chances of getting a ticket are slim because you most definitely had broken some kind of speed limit, but truthfully it was mostly to get dustin to shut the hell up.

knowing eddie meant that you knew he was probably fast asleep, ignoring the cracklings of the walkie for the sake of a couple extra minutes of shuteye.

you turn down the long wooded drive, wondering if rick was back yet and just how he’d react to eddie’s ex-girlfriend and some random kid showing up on his doorstep at seven in the morning.

you’re forced to slam on the breaks, almost sending dustin through the windscreen as eddie’s face appears before you, his hands slam the hood, screaming something nonsensical.

“ohmygodohmygod,” he rushes, throwing himself into the backseat of your car, “you need to drive!”

“what the hell happened?” dustin probes as you turn around, only now seeing the barrage of cars parked outside of the house.

“jason..” he gasps, “those fucking meatheads he hangs around with.. they just showed up,” sliding down into the footwell just as jason rounds the corner of the house, yelling something about your car as you hightail the fuck out of there.

“they.. they- they think i’m the devil or some shit,” eddie gasps, his petrified face appearing in the gap between your seats, “they’re fucking crazy man.. fuck!”

your fingers tighten around the steering wheel, hoping to speed away before they got wise enough to follow you.

jason wasn’t much but his lackeys would have zero issue beating the shit out of eddie, or you for that matter.

you instinctively go to the first place you can think of, which in hindsight seems like a mistake now the gravel is crunching beneath your wheels.

forest hills was still crawling with cops trying to determine who or what had killed chrissy, though thankfully at daybreak their presence seemed to have dwindled a little.

“we should be okay here for a while.. stay in the car until i get the door open,” flashing him a harsh glare to make sure he really understands.

the three of you barrel into your trailer, grateful for the silence, unsure of how you’d ever explain this entire situation to your mom.

“shit man,” eddie marvels the walls, mouth hung open, “haven’t seen the inside of this thing for.. a while,” a sadness to his tone.

“yup,” choosing to ignore his glum cadence in favour of keeping the peace, “you can sleep in my bed,” tossing your keys into the bowl.

“you sure?” eddie asks, though he’s already making his way up the hall, all too familiar with your trailer.

“knock yourself out,” collapsing onto the couch to resume your own interrupted slumber. in a time not so long ago, you’d have relished crawling up next to eddie in bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to tuck you up under his armpit.

you brush off the glum feeling, wrapping your own arms around your body instead.

dustin gets to alerting the wheeler residence, informing them all that eddie’s okay and you were going to hang out here until he came up with some plan.

it’s almost noon before eddie rises again, asking if he can take a shower before dustin unleashes his plan.

that horrid buzzing niggles it’s way back into your brain. a dull pain that quickly becomes sharp, stabbing at the sides of your head.

“are you okay?” dustin questions nervously, ditching his notebook to step closer with caution.

your fingers clutch your temple, unable to form a coherent sentence as the pain throbs through your frontal lobe. features screwed up in searing pain.

“eddie!” he screeches, his fists pummelling against the bathroom door.

eddie emerges, towel slung around his waist, barely able to turn the water on yet, “what? what the hell is going on?” quickly shutting up when he sees your sorry state. “are you okay? what happened?” rushing over without a second thought.

dustin stands in horror just behind, watching as eddie’s thumb swipes the underside of your nose, coming back an unexpected shade of maroon.

“she just dropped! i-i don’t.. i’ve never seen this before!”

“you’re bleeding,” eddie fuses, “dustin.. tissue now,” tilting your chin upwards.

the pain subsides slightly, allowing your eyes to reopen and meet his, “there’s.. tylenol in the drawer,” letting him keep your chin between his fingers.

dustin speeds around the room, collecting supplies as your laboured breaths become easier, the ache dissipating as quickly as it came on.

eddie dabs at your nose until it’s clean, shaking out two of the pills onto his palm for you to take. “what the hell was that?” nagging yet concerned all rolled into one.

“i dunno, i’ve been getting these.. headaches, since i’ve been back,” looking between dustin’s horrified face and eddie’s distressed one. “it’s probably nothing.”

“that didn’t look like nothing,” dustin adds, still wary of your state. with all of the supernatural happenings at the moment, he had right to be.

“it’s fine,” shrugging them both off before the questions got too much. “what’s the plan dustin?”

he and eddie share another glance, pretending that you weren’t right there in front of them. “uh..” erring the line of caution before jumping right into it, “okay so we need to go down.. down there.”

it’s stupid, reckless even.

but what other choice do you have when the world is caving in and your ex-boyfriend is on the run from the police?

eddie climbs through the window of the rv, pulling your eyes away with a quickness as his shirt rises up to reveal his lower back.

the door swings open some moments later, gesturing for you all to climb inside as he gets to hot-wiring the gargantuan vehicle.

you pile into the back, ducking below the windows while his fingers fiddle with the live wires.

“do you even know what you’re doing?” nancy asks, her eyebrow raised in quiet concern.

“nancy please,” eddie huffs, “while your dad was teaching you how to ride a bike, my dad was teaching me how to hot-wire a car.. i know what i’m doing.”

she hums, settling into the passenger seat without another word.

it shouldn’t be attractive. you should think it’s utterly reprehensible to steal and engage with such criminal behaviour.

but you can’t.

not with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth like that, his hands whirring away as robin looks on with a screwed up face.

the engine roars loud, alerting the entire trailer park to your existence. eddie hightails it into the back, choosing the empty spot next to you as he yells for steve to drive.

this all so ridiculous, flying about the back of the rv as steve speeds out of town. finding somewhere solitary for you all to prepare.

everyone seems to be in cahoots about something, scarpering from the rv the second you walk inside. leaving you and eddie to navigate through the uncomfortable tension alone.

you take a seat anyway, picking up the discarded knife on the table, running your finger along the dull blade with a sigh.

you’d never imagined that the two of you could ever be so awkward together, having been close for the entirety of your lives, it felt awful to not even want to look at him now.

“i’m sorry.. about chrissy,” you swallow, still sharpening the knife, hoping he won’t say something to make you drive it into his throat.

the rest of the group ‘prepare’ loudly outside. dustin screeching at the top of his lungs for steve to put him down while robin tuts in annoyance.

eddie looks up, a little glum, “yeah.. she was a good girl, she didn’t deserve that,” dropping his own knife on the table in front of you with a clatter.

“i didn’t realise you two were.. together or whatever,” the look on his face immediately forces you to regret your words, hoping the ground would just swallow you whole.

he scoffs, “together?” knocking his knee into yours softly, “you thought we were together?”

oh my god. it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. cheeks burning as your eyes meet his, “oh! i thought.. someone said.. i don’t- i don’t know,” clinging onto the knife with sweaty palms, deciding whether to slice your own mouth off so nothing else could fall out of it.

“she was buying weed,” he laughs quietly, “pretty girl but.. not really my type, you know?”

you nod, looking back at the table in hopes that he’d just drop it now. so much for being the nonchalant, cool ex. all you’d done is solidify your psycho status.

“i haven’t really..” he begins again, never knowing when to leave well enough alone, “i haven’t moved on, i guess,” shrugging as his own gaze slips.

if you were going to live through the end of the world, you hoped it’d come soon. the tension in this cramped rv was enough to make whatever was happening with the underworld seem like a dream.

“oh!” is all you can conjure up. unsure of what response he was expecting from you. the breakup had been amicable.. sort of. to you, it made sense to breakup. you were away to college and he was repeating senior year again. you had almost died in the town you grew up in, he hadn’t.

it was a multitude of happenings that forced you apart. grief and it’s intertwining webs of despair had proved too much for your relationship. too much for you to handle on your own.

eddie hadn’t agreed.

he couldn’t understand it, why you needed out of hawkins so bad. but he wasn’t there, hadn’t seen the things you had.

the guilt had wrecked you for the first few months, afraid that you’d abandoned him in that very town for a new life after promising for so long that you wouldn’t.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that- i didn’t mean anything by it,” he fumbles, pulling on his bottom lip, “well i did! just.. not the time or place, you get me?” digging himself further into his hole.

your eyes meet his again, gnawing at the skin on your bottom lip, “it’s okay.. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“i think what i meant to say was that i missed you.. i’m glad you’re back,” eddie coughs, un-jumbling his words at last.

it’s simple enough and really shouldn’t make your heart swell the way it does. you weren’t together. he wasn’t yours. that was that.

but maybe there’s something about experiencing the end of the world with someone that makes you a little reminiscent.

“i missed you too,” you smile, hoping that the overwhelming feeling of adrenaline is just from the interdimensional monster that lay beneath you and absolutely nothing to do with his doe eyes and plump lips.

his eyes flicker, trailing from your eyes to your lips. the air seems to shift around you, leaving the room at an expedient rate.

“you missed me?” eddie growls, looking back into your eyes, “then why’d you leave me here?” a deep set frown forming on his lips that wasn’t there a minute earlier.

“what?” you question, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour.

“you left me. you left me here to die after you told me you wouldn’t,” he snarls, leaning closer.

his eyes are glossy now, glazed over with what looks like tears.

“i didn’t.. no,” backing away from him, “you were supposed to come with me.. you.. you..” shaking your head.

eddie’s eyes change completely now, pupils turning a slick grey. a dark cloud fills the room, overflowing out of the tiny window, covering the furniture and your body with the thick smog.

“it’s your fault,” the voice rumbles, no longer bearing any semblance to eddie’s, the walls decay in front of your eyes, wallpaper rotting as they crack and crumble.

“it’s your fault,” it repeats, louder this time, “he’s going to die,” it cackles, filling the room with the booming voice.

“no,” you scream into the void, thrashing around to find the source, “take me! take me instead!” yelling as loud as your throat would allow, but it’s futile.

there’s no one here.

eddie had gone. crumbled into a pile of ash on the floor, left on your own in some barren wasteland, the blood-curdling screams of menacing creatures travel through your body.

“you can’t save yourself,” the voice booms, pulling your eyes to the horrific humanoid figure stood amongst the ruins.

“what do you want?” you scream, stepping backwards over the rubble.

the man.. thing just smiles, “i’ve been watching you for some time, you shouldn’t have come back here,” walking towards your cowering frame.

“w-why? who are you?” fingers trembling as you attempt to grab onto something, anything to bring you back to earth.

everything you grasp crumbles into ashes, disappearing before your eyes as you struggle to breathe. wheezing through the dark clouds, not an inch of relief.

“we’ve met before,” completely ominous, “you don’t remember me?” tilting his head to the side.

it feels like you’ve seen it before, somewhere in a far away dreamland.

that’s when it clicks.

the bad dreams you’d been having, there had always been something there, a presence you couldn’t ever see clearly.

but now it makes sense.

“h-how did you do that? how did you get into my dreams?” the rubble beneath your feet disappeared with every step.

his head shakes and the landscape rumbles, a clattering of stones fall to the ground, jolting your body backwards.

“you let me in,” he rumbles, stepping closer, “you’re the reason any of this is happening.. it’s time for you to pay.”

his spindly fingers reach out, forcing you further and further back until your foot catches against a stone, sending you flying backwards into a sudden abyss.

you awaken with a harsh gasp, eyes opening to find eddie towering above, his brows threaded together in fear as the others screech around you.

“she’s awake! are you okay?” eddie rushes, holding your face between his palms, “oh my god,” as white as a sheet, shock rippling through his body.

you nod, blinking in the sudden bright light, exhausted from doing nothing at all. nothing felt real except eddie’s fingers brushing over your worn skin.

too tired for tears, too afraid to speak. your eyes shut on their own, trying to ground yourself back in this reality.

you relax into his hold, your breathing falling into line with his as their voices turn into humming background noise, focusing on the path of eddie’s fingertips instead.

eddie hadn’t dared to leave your side, following you around like a lost puppy, watchful eyes widening every time you moved or breathed too loud.

it would’ve felt suffocating if you weren’t scared to death. instead, it was a welcome comfort. a sense of familiarity in the most awful time.

you felt immense guilt, knowing that the end of the world had to happen for you to speak to him again. the man you’d gotten married to a thousand times in your head, the man you’d had a plethora of baby names with. it was all so insane.

dustin hadn’t exactly instilled much confidence in you. with news of fred benson and patrick mckinney’s deaths, he had figured out the pattern of attack.

they’d all died the same way, eyes burst and their limbs snapped one by one.

eddie had recalled how chrissy went into a similar trance, her eyes glossed over, completely unresponsive. though the moment he’d said it, his heart sank, realising that chrissy wasn’t the only one he’d witnessed like that.

logically, that meant that you were next.

dustin had uncovered what was essentially a countdown to your death. nobody wanted to say it, or even acknowledge it, but you weren’t stupid.

that meant that whatever plan he had, he had to perfect tonight, ready to attack tomorrow.

before it’s too late.

he’d said the quiet part out loud. a shared grimace encompassing the room, pitiful glances in your direction.

despite the fact that your demise was quickly approaching, you had felt a strange sense of peace. perhaps actually knowing your fate was better than not knowing.

there would be an end to all of this.

steve had offered his house for you all, his parents away on some trip for the next week meaning eddie could hide out in peace. a much better arrangement than the wheeler’s house again, ted had started to despise the groups of teenagers in his basement.

sleeping bags and blankets strewn across his gigantic living room, sleeping bodies filling every spare inch of carpet. none of you wanted to be apart for more than five minutes. sleeping on top one another was the ultimate comfort.

eddie had volunteered for first watch, keeping his eye steady on you from the corner of the room.

it’s a little difficult to fall asleep knowing that he was watching you like a hawk, surveying every tiny change and movement.

dustin was supposed to take over at some point in the early hours, but judging by the sounds of his rumbling snore, that wouldn’t be happening.

you sit up, shuffling over to eddie’s perch, avoiding your sleeping friends on the ground.

his eyes dart to the floor, as if he hadn’t been staring intensely at you for the last hour.

“d’you have a cigarette?” you whisper, knocking your knee into his.

he nods, raising his brow, “you don’t smoke?” baffled by your question.

you shrug, smiling into the darkness, “how would you know?” hoping it didn’t come across as snappy as it seemed.

he doesn’t reply, just shuffles around in his pocket, producing the scuffed up box with his lighter.

you nod towards the door, getting up from the floor with a small groan. limbs still aching and weary from your run in with death earlier.

he follows behind, glancing at the room of sleeping teens before slipping out onto the porch with you.

steve’s house was secluded, the massive back yard and the trees that surrounded it made sure that no one would find him here.

you perch on one of the lounge chairs, gesturing for eddie to join you, watching the steam from the pool dissipate into the chilly march night air. despite being in the same tiny town, his house was worlds apart from the trailer park you two grew up on.

he places a cigarette in your palm before sliding one between his own lips, passing you the lighter first.

it’s a silent exchange, unsure if you could talk about anything without crying, though it’s meaningful. eddie had been selfish plenty of times during your relationship but at his core, he’d put you before himself each and every time.

you light the cigarette, gazing off into the distance. hoping to god that he wouldn’t bring what had happened earlier up.

“when’d you start smoking?” he asks, keeping a respectable distance between you though he wishes that wasn’t something he had to worry about.

“when i found out that i was dying tomorrow,” exhaling slow, trying not to let your voice wobble.

he sighs, “you’re not gonna die,” with less conviction than you’d have liked, “you can’t die,” shaking his head at such a ridiculous thought, “you won’t.. you won’t,” mostly for his own sake.

your eyes squeeze shut, heart aching, squeezing your chest tight. last week you’d been terrified about your literature final and now none of it even mattered.

“what if i do?” you ask earnestly, finally meeting his eyes, “everyone else has? we don’t know if dustin’s right.. if we can beat him,” shrugging helplessly.

chrissy had died, patrick had died, fred had died. that meant you were next.

his jaw clenches, wishing you’d stop, “you’re not,” throwing his cigarette butt to the side, “i won’t let you, okay?”

you nod, albeit not believing a word he said. it was difficult to be so optimistic when the only evidence you had, said otherwise.

“this vecna..” eddie begins again, “he doesn’t know what’s about to hit him,” sounding slightly more confident than before, “we’re gonna kill him and you’re.. you’re gonna live and graduate and do all that great shit you still have to do.”

you don’t mistake the pain in his voice, the knowing that he should be there for all of that and that it had been his own fault for now being a footnote in the story of your life.

“i really do miss you,” you clarify, “i’m not sure how much of our conversation earlier was a vision or not..”

eddie chuckles, breath shaky and unstable, “no.. you said that before, you know- before you got possessed,” bumping his shoulder into yours, thankfully injecting his fucked up humour into the otherwise dark conversation.

“was it scary?”

he scoffs, almost offended that you’d even ask, “i shit my pants,” smiling with the side of his mouth, not fully committed, “reminded me of that stupid movie you made me watch.”

he had never liked horror movies, this tough guy exterior that exclusively listened to metal was all a guise. he’d watched the film through his fingers, clinging onto your arm.

“you were very brave though,” letting your cigarette fall to the floor, sure to be lectured by steve in the morning.

he shies away, looking down for a brief second, “i’m not gonna let what happened to chrissy happen to you too..” meeting your gaze once more, “i promise.”

“i don’t think you can promise that,” sharing a meaningful glance.

“i can and i will.”

you nod hesitantly. his words, as much as you’d like to believe them, meant nothing when the supernatural was at play.

his eyes flicker down to your lips, just like they used to so many months ago. but you don’t pull back, only leaning in further.

if you lived past tomorrow, you’d no doubt regret this but as that wasn’t looking at all likely, what was a kiss between traumatised exes?

eddie makes the first real move, his palm coming to cradle your cheek. you hope to god this isn’t another vision, that he won’t be cruelly torn away from you this time.

“is this real?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, sighing as you do.

“this is real,” he assures, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “d’you want to stop?”

“no,” closing the already dwindling space between you, placing your hand on his in such earnest intimacy, a sensation you’d missed so deeply for an entire year.

your lips touch, your eyes falling shut as his breaths start to steady, humming into your mouth in satisfaction.

it didn’t feel so bad now, nothing could be so utterly terrifying while you’re touching him like this.

eddie breaks away first, only a few inches of distance, just to gaze into your starry eyes, “i never thought i’d be able to do that again,” with utmost sincerity.

“you weren’t supposed to,” shaking your head. if things had gone according to your plan, you’d have never seen him again.

but it doesn’t work that way.

fate had other plans for you.

his lips twitch into a small smile, thumb drawing over your tired cheeks, “can i do it again?”

“please.”

connecting your lips once more, the cold tip of his nose bumping softly against yours. it was impossible not to notice how well you fit together, moving in synchronicity and with such tenderly care.

inside, dustin wakes up in a cold sweat. looking over at the empty spot on the floor where you should be, but now we’re not.

“shitshitshit,” he panics, whispering loudly to himself as he crashes around the house, stepping over the sleeping bodies.

dustin’s panicked face shoots up from the window, gawping at the barely visible sight, straining to make out what the fuck he was even seeing.

it only dawns on him when your lips leave eddie’s, foreheads resting together that it would be in his best interest to not interject and end up with his ass beat.

you come back in some twenty minutes later, after a plethora of shared kisses and soothing words. deciding to settle in the same empty spot on the floor, his hand only comfortable enough to grace your waist, under the blanket.

now wasn’t the time for questions or prying eyes judging your decision. you weren’t even too sure yourself.

it’s the only time you’ve felt comfortable enough to sleep tonight, watching his chest rise and fall, knowing that he was here, alive and that for right now, you were too.

the carnage pulls you from your sleep, people yelling over pancakes and glass clattering as max’s shrill voice scolds lucas for being too loud.

you look around at the mess of blankets and empty sleeping bags, the door to the living room was closed though it made no difference.

you’d have preferred to stay in the empty room, unwilling to address the situation with eddie last night but your stomach rumbles, pulling you out of the room and into the bright, bustling hallway.

robin swings out of the kitchen at the sound of your presence. she’d clearly tried to help with the breakfast efforts, though unsuccessfully, emerging with flour down her shirt, jeans and somehow in her hair. she smiles gently at your weary eyes, “we didn’t wanna wake you.. you were knocked out.”

“thanks rob,” even though their incessant arguing and yelling did eventually rouse you from your sleep.

in the kitchen, dustin sits with his feet swinging off the tall stool, a too-wide, toothy grin growing on his face the second he spots you, “well good morning! how’d you sleep?” a sarcastic little quip that you know holds something deeper.

“great thanks, you?” narrowing your eyes as you fill a mug with coffee.

he waits for steve to exit the room, turning back to you with the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable, “yeah, really good,” he twists his body to peer out of the door, ensuring no one could hear, “so you and eddie huh?”

“me and eddie what?” refusing to entertain his cryptic questions.

“i saw you two last night, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” wiggling his stupid brows as he shovels yet another pancake into his uncontrollable, jabbering mouth.

“and i saw you wet the bed last year, do you want to go there?” flinging his taunting right back at him.

dustin’s mouth falls open, “you can be a real bitch, you know that?” taking his heaped plate back into the living room.

steve strolls back in, staring down dustin’s scowl before his eyes trail to you, “what’s wrong with him?”

you smile, tight-lipped and fully loaded as you pour a cup of coffee, “oh nothing,” looking over the food with slight disgust. the hunger hadn’t really hit you yet, too occupied with trying not to die to care about pancakes.

eddie interrupts your noisy brain, cackling as he comes into the kitchen, “maybe you should stop being such a smart-ass then,” immediately quietening down when he spots you.

you don’t speak, instead communicating with a shared look before you focus on the cup of coffee in your hand.

steve looks slowly between the two of you, “you good?”

“yeah.”

“yup.”

you both simultaneously reply, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the empty kitchen.

“o-kay,” steve whistles, deciding that sitting with dustin and his terrible attitude would be far better than whatever this was.

it’s not supposed to be awkward.

it was just a kiss. or multiple.

a few kisses between exes during the end of the world. that’s all.

“d’you sleep okay?” he dares to ask, feeling comfortable enough to make eye contact now that steve had left.

“yeah.. thank you, for looking after me,” smiling gently at the bleary eyed boy.

“i told you i would,” he reaffirms, “you’re not doing this on your own.”

“i know,” you nod, swallowing the growing lump, “but i’m scared eds.. i don’t want you to die because of me.”

eddie tuts, rounding the counter to place his hand on your arm, “that’s not-,”

dustin hollers, falling through the kitchen door, giving away the groups prying position, “ow shithead!” shoving lucas backwards as they materialise one by one.

dustin, lucas, max, erica.

in that order.

“are you fucking serious?” you screech, throwing your arms into the air.

this was low even for dustin.

“sorry! sorry! go back to confessing your love or whatever the hell was happening!” scurrying off to finish his pancakes and no doubt inform robin and steve what they’d witnessed.

“i can’t believe him,” you frown, turning to eddie who’s stifling his laugh. “it’s not funny,” but your lips twitch anyway.

“it’s kinda funny,” his hand still lingering on your arm, his smile reaching his eyes, “you don’t care if they know.. do you?”

you shrug, perhaps you did care a little bit. you were the one who’d broken up with him, deserted him for college. maybe you didn’t deserve a second chance.

“it’s okay..” he nods, as understanding as always, “this is weird, i get it," as understanding as he was, he wasn't able to conceal the dejected puppy gleam in his eye.

"it's not that," pathetically reaching for his hand, "i'm just.. i'm supposed to die today, i don't want to.. lead you on, or get your hopes up or whatever," putting your finger up to stop eddie from interrupting, "i don't need you to tell me that i'm not. just let me spiral about this," smiling as you speak, truly a means to soothe yourself, not just eddie.

"o..okay," his whole speech shut down, leaving him with nothing. his eyes flit over to the mountains of food steve had whipped up, "you should eat.. you've got a busy day of not dying to get through," smirking right through your snide glare.

something feels off, a nervous twisting in your stomach that makes you want to call the entire thing off.

you could go down there and fight this with them. screw whatever prophetic visions you’d had.

eddie hadn’t even wanted to go, desperate to stay in the attic with you, watching over in fear of losing you again.

“what if.. what if something happens and they don’t know how to fix it? they’re kids.” he’d pleaded, sat on the porch outside of the large house in your final moments of peace.

“dustin can’t do this on his own,” you cooed, only slightly wishing that he could execute this plan on his own. “you have to go. i’ll be okay..okay?” not entirely certain about the truthfulness of your words.

he takes a sharp intake of breath, fingers forming a weak fist, “you better be,” the moon reflecting off of his caramel iris’, capturing the entire universe in two tiny orbs, “i don’t want to lose you again.”

your head dips, quickly losing the ability to look him in the eye, overwhelmed with guilt and the reminder that you had been the one to end things.

“it’s okay,” grabbing your hand to place on his bouncing knee, “i’m not.. mad about it, or upset and you shouldn’t be either,” squeezing your fingers in a bid to draw your eyes back to him.

“i don’t-,” huffing a frustrated sigh, unable to form a coherent thought when the impending battle loomed over your heads. “everything is so fucked and i don’t know if we’re gonna make it this time.”

eddie’s fingers lace between yours, holding your hand tighter, “we’re gonna be fine.. okay? everyone is gonna be fine,” inching closer in the thick of the night, “i’m gonna be right back here, as soon as that bastard is dead.. i promise.”

this time, you punctuate his sentence for him, springing forward to latch your lips to his, using your free hand to cradle his stubbly cheek.

you long to kiss him forever, never escaping this embrace, knowing that there’s a chance it won’t happen again. his lips soft, desperate to stay attached to you, too.

“oh! shit! uhm-,” robin stutters, clattering out of the door.

you break apart, containing the low groan of disappointment, “sorry rob.. ‘s everything okay?” eddie’s as bashful as ever, his cheeks flushing a deep scarlet, even in the darkness.

“yeah! uh.. nancy told me to tell you that we’ve gotta go now or it’ll be too late,” swinging from the door as she speaks.

he glances at you again, longing for just one more minute of this peace. one more second of your touch.

but it doesn’t come.

they leave in a hurry, cycling maniacally away to the trailer park, leaving you, lucas, max and erica to conduct the rest of the plan. only fragments of hope left as you watch them disappear over the hill, praying for someone, anyone to just keep him safe.

everything is eerily calm, far too silent for the situation at hand.

you sit cross-legged in the attic, looking between lucas and max who had taken it upon themselves to converse through a notepad.

they reminded you of you and eddie once upon a time, giggling teenagers trying to navigate love together.

it’s sweet, full of the same adolescent innocence you were desperately trying to regain.

eventually they break apart, lucas traipsing over the creaky floorboards to check on you, equally confused by the serenity.

he turns to walk away, almost frozen as his brows furrow and his pupils dilate, “you killed them.”

your mouth falls open, immediately hushing him so as to not screw up nancy and dustin’s carefully thought out plan.

“you killed them all,” he parrots, a sinister air surrounding him. “eddie trusted you and you killed him.. you’re a murderer,” the venom flying off of his tongue, severing your heart in two.

the plan had worked. you were back in wherever it was you were taken before, confirmed by the sudden darkness, the wallpaper splintering and putrid stench that had filled your nose.

lucas isn’t lucas at all.

a mimic to the higher power cursing your town, only a small part of his master plan to destroy hawkins.

your surroundings melt away, lucas nor max no longer appearing before you. instead, you’re faced with a flash of red, and a maniacal cackle.

henry, as you’d since learnt he was called, begins his tirade, just as you’d planned.

“why didn’t you stop them?” he booms, appearing in the corner, “you let them go after everything i showed you.”

he didn’t scare you, not anymore. when the time was right, lucas would slide max’s walkman over your ears and pull you right out of this hellscape.

“they’re going to kill you,” standing stoic, resistant under his thumb. “you can’t hurt anybody else.. not anymore,” gritting your teeth, such determination to have him hear you.

his burnt frame disappears right before your eyes, a loud, blaring laugh appears from behind.

once again turning to darkness, only this time it’s accompanied by a chorus of screeching. feral creatures and familiar voices circle around your head.

his torment is ruthless, voices, namely eddie’s rattle around your brain, wailing and screaming, loud enough to make your ears ring and your head ache.

your eyes open to your trailer, watching yourself argue and cry at eddie.

the day you broke up.

“you’re just gonna leave me?” he despairs, just as feeble as the first time he’d said it.

“i can’t stay here eddie! you don’t get it! i nearly died.. i can’t do that again,” and yet, here you are.

a shrill, shrieking sound fills the room before the scene crumbles before your eyes leaving you to the decaying scene you bore witness to before. remnants of the creel house float through the scarlet sky, threatening to crash into each other.

“maybe i can’t hurt you, but you can hurt yourself,” vecna’s voice squawks, flashing forward to a scene you’ve never seen before.

eddie, with his back against a door, you can only assume he’s trying to keep something out. a grotesque mix of blood, sweat and tears seep down his cheeks, the door beginning to thump from the pressure of whatever was on the other side.

“this all could’ve been so easy,” rapidly wiping the imagine from your view, only to appear mere inches away, decrepit hand rising above your face. “don’t you wish you had just listened? don’t you wish that you had just come with me?” now mocking with his tone, condescending even though he’d gotten you exactly where you’d wanted.

“no.. no no no,” arms suddenly restricted by a slimy tendril, forcing your face to meet his, “you’re not real.. you’re not-“ a sudden, awful constriction wraps around your lungs, squeezing the air from your body.

“i’m not.. real?” he mocks, the corners of his mouth creep upwards, “i didn’t want this to happen this way but you’ve left me no choice.”

you gasp loudly for breath, struggling within his grasp for a means out of it. where was lucas? or max? what happened to the plan?

over the last few days, you’d become quite comfortable with the idea of dying. it became fact, an inevitable consequence of getting yourself tangled up in this entire thing.

but now, as it looms over your head, you want out.

you want to be with eddie. you want a dozen kids and a quaint house on the corner of maple. maybe a dog or a cat that he’d picked up on the side of the road. slow dancing in the kitchen after a day of warm sun.

you want to live.

his fist closes, leaving your lips blue and begging for oxygen. “this is what had to happen.. your time-“ his rambling cut off by a ground shattering boom, the tendril dropping your body at once.

he stumbles backwards, grabbing onto his chest. your vision too blurry to coherently make out what was happening, a mixture of colours that swirls away quickly.

your aching bones thump to the floor, gasping for air as the familiarity of the creel’s attic fills your peripheral.

max and lucas swarm your body, muttering over one another, their small hands shaking in fear as your head is placed on max’s lap.

“what the fuck? what the fuck do we do? lucas!” she hollers at lucas, as if either of them had any idea.

they shouldn’t have to be concerned with any of this, nor tasked with the pressure of keeping you alive. your breathing steadies though your chest still heaves, leaving the comfort of her hold to scan the room. making sure that this was real, that you were home.

four pairs of feet appear before you and not one of them the dusty pair of reebok’s you were waiting to see.

collapsing once again, in a crumpled heap on the dusty floorboards, your voice cracks, broken as you speak. still reeling from the onslaught of abuse you’d endured.

“where’s eddie?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader

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killerpancakeburger · 6 months

Text

Imagine: Ghost giving you the shovel talk after Soap and you made your relationship official

It's the evening, you two are smoking outside in companionable silence, taking in the star-spangled sky. Suddenly his voice pulls you out of your daydreaming.

"So... you n' Johnny, eh?”

You feel an ominous shiver run down your spine - you do not like the turn this conversation is taking. His tone is steady, like it usually is, but it means nothing when that specter is involved. He could be slicing a throat and his voice wouldn't waver a iota.

If there was anything you learned about The infamous Ghost, in the absence of his identity and the face beneath the mask, it was that the names he used for the people he considered his family were anything but random. Soap was the most common way he refered to his Sergeant, but a Johnny could slip here and there. "Johnny" was personal; intimate; vulnerable; and possessive all at once. Not in the way an insecure lover would act - although...? Maybe...? -, but in the way a pack member would bare his fangs at a newcomer to protect his mates.

There was something animalistic buried within him that would resurface from time to time, when the risk was too great, when the survival of the 141 or of any of its members was jeopardized. Something you would not risk to vex. Simon was extremely protective behind closed doors, it wasn’t a scoop, but you thought yourself safe from his fangs... or at least you did until now.

"Yeah?"

How you hate the interrogation in your voice. As if you were seeking his permission. Like a child knowing they're asking for too much but doing it anyway.

You busy yourself with your cigarette, trying to look unfazed.

"He may sound like a fuckin' playboy most of the times, but he's actually a sensible kinda fella. Doesn't go around givin' his heart to just anyone, y'know?"

You gulp. Take a deep breath. The only way out is through. Might as well be done with it.

"So, is this the part where you swear that no one will ever find my body if I hurt him?"

You're proud of how casual you managed to sound.

He actually chuckles at that. A relaxed, raspy, unbothered kind of sound. Maybe you will walk away with your life tonight after all.

"Got it all figured out, don't ya? But that's good. Saves us some time."

He tosses his cigarette and, for the first time since you’ve been outside, he turns to you and look you in the eye. His stare is as intense as ever.

"We're in agreement, then? Ya'll treat mah boy well?"

"Wouldn't dream of anything else."

"Good lass."

A pause, then:

"This works both way, y'know that, right?"

"Hmm?"

Too busy celebrating your escape from the valley of the shadow of death, you haven't been completely paying attention.

"If he gives ya trouble, I'll knock some sense into that thick head of his."

You look at him again, your face beaming and your chest tingling with a newfound joy.

"Thank you."

You smile, unable to stop the motion of your lips. Your gratefulness is not for the threat he proclaimed, but for the friendship he extends to you.

He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

Suddenly a burly arm wraps around your neck.

"What were ya guys talkin' about!? You’ve been there for ages." Pouts Soap.

Glancing over at Ghost, you can see that Johnny has tried to grab him by the neck too, with a lukewarm success, considering the height difference between the two of them.

"Nothin' ye need to concern yerself with", retorts Simon, lying as easily as he breathes.

As Johnny turns to you in hopes of finding an easier target that will confess everything, you nearly miss the conspiratorial wink Ghost sends your way. The action is so far removed from his usual character, you understand that the discrepancy is made to amuse you. So you giggle.

Tonight the sky is full of stars, and your heart full of bliss, the way you feel like your chest might burst with happiness at any moment, with those two men at your side.

A/N: Platonic!Reader x Ghost my beloved 😫 🖤 Tried to make Ghost the less OOC as possible, as usual >_< but man its not a walk in the fookin park.

Trouple potential tho? 👀 sorry not sorry, I can't help it, I love the ambiguity...

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sehtoast · 11 months

Text

He Likes You Like This (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+ | Soft homie smut, riding. Gender Neutral Reader | Fic Directory

He likes you like this.

Straddling his lap. Smiling down at him as your thumbs stroke his cheekbones, fingers scritching just at the nape of his neck.

He sighs deeply, head lolling back, neck exposed. If he were a creature of prey, he’d be dead. If you were a predator, fangs sharp and serrated, he would be fully at your mercy. Perhaps that’s why he likes this so much.

Knowing you would never, ever hurt him. Your touch is love. It is kindness, warmth, and acceptance in droves– and, god… it’s everything to him.

You are everything to him.

You are the beauty in every sunrise. In his eyes, you glow more beautifully than the moon. You are a fresh summer breeze gracing him, blowing softly through his hair and kissing at his cheeks. You are the vibrancy of springtime flowers. The soothing sight of snow cascading past streetlights.

Once upon a time, Copernicus theorized that the sun was the center of the entire universe. He was wrong, of course, but Homelander would wager that it is actually you who holds it all together.

He’d bet his life on it.

His eyes flutter shut when not fangs, but soft lips press to his neck. Those soothing strokes of your thumbs trail up to his temples and he feels weightless under you.

He feels no shame in letting a smile creep onto his face. Does nothing to hide the breathy little giggle that slips from between his lips. He knows you love it.

There’s only so much of this tenderness he can take before he’s hardening. He feels your smirk against his skin, and he knows you know.

His hands travel down your back to your hips, rocking you against his need.

You kiss him to muffle your moan. Your hands snake down to undo his belt, tossing it to the side. Hips press up against you, and it’s not long before you’ve got his cock free and yourself stripped enough to take him.

He slides in like it’s his home. Like your heat was made for him, and he for you. He gazes up at you with hazy eyes and a lazy grin, faltering only when you start to move.

You ride him slowly for a time, preferring instead to watch each little twitch of his face, hear every little breath. His hands are under your shirt, palms pressed against your flesh.

He wants to feel every bit of you that he possibly can. Each time you sink down on his cock, he tries to bury his face in your neck until you finally get the hint and let him. He breathes deep, letting the scent of you overtake his senses until all there is, all there ever will be is you.

His breaths are hot and heavy, whimpers barely muffed against your skin. His tongue darts out to lave over you, tasting you down to the most base chemical level. He whines, tells you he’s close just as his hand snakes down to finish you off.

When you come on his cock, he swears he sees stars.

The air leaves his body, his muscles lock, and he howls your name against your neck. He kisses and laps at where he’s nibbled marks, promising more. Homelander holds you through the quakes of your orgasm, thrusting up into your pulsing heat as he paints your walls with proof of his love.

Oh, how you glow above him. You are more than all the stars could ever hope to be.

He holds you there. Stays inside you, runs his hands up and down your back. Whispers in your ear how perfect you are, how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have you.

In times like these especially, he’s not afraid to tell you what’s in his heart.

You nuzzle his nose with yours once you finally come down, leaning back just a smidge to gaze at him. His eyes are so soft, twinkling with adoration and appreciation. It stirs the feeling of butterflies inside, and you shine brilliantly as you smile once more.

He likes knowing he’s the reason for it.

“I love you,” you tell him.

He likes having you so close.

He likes knowing you’ll be the last thing he sees before he sleeps, and the first thing when he wakes.

“I love you…”

He likes that you love him just as much as he loves you.

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander fanfiction #homelander smut #antony starr #the boys

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koishua · 6 months

Text

★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.

starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.

the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.

heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘

the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.

your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.

you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.

days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.

the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.

this is his dreamland.

notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊🍊

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #jake imagines #jake fluff #jay imagines #jay fluff #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons

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azrielbrainrot · 3 months

Text

Sweet Somethings

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: You help Azriel put on a necklace and almost get lost in his eyes.

Warnings: a lot of fluff and some healthy tension

Word Count: 2360

Notes: The tension between these two is so delicious, I can't help but watch them burn. I promise I'll get to writing some stories from when they are actually together though. For now, I hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel's hands were more than talented, the biggest evidence being how beautifully he plays his bass, how strong yet careful they are when he holds onto you, how softly his hands run through your hair, but watching him now struggling to successfully clasp his necklace around his neck no one would have guessed.

For a moment you had wondered if the way his hands were trembling now had anything to do with the terrible wounds that were inflicted on them when he was only a child. When he told you the infuriating story, he assured you there were no lingering ailments, apart from the scars that marred his skin and a somewhat increase in sensitivity, especially when his hands got too cold. You're infinitely thankful that his hands weren't hurt even more in that fire, but you hate knowing the people responsible are still out there, free to walk the world as if they hadn't hurt Azriel so much when they should have protected him.

You shake your head softly, pushing away the invading thoughts and sour feelings that usually accompanied them, adjusting your position on Azriel's bed and focusing back on the amusing sight before you: your tall, usually more than capable friend leaning down too close to his full length mirror, a frustrated and adorable expression on his face as he tries to clasp a silver chain around his neck.

Azriel had a concert tonight and had invited you along, as he usually does if he knows you have free time. But when he told you about it on the phone, you hadn't quite realized he would not only drive you there, but also bring you home to have dinner with him and his bandmates so you could keep him company before it was time to go. It was incredibly domestic to watch them before the show, discussing technical things you didn't understand and making last minute adjustments over dinner. It felt even more intimate to accompany Azriel to his bedroom when dinner ended, sitting on his bed reapplying your lipstick while he got changed.

Most of the regular platonic boundaries have been thrown out of the window between you two - if you were being completely honest with yourself, you had barely paid attention to that ever since meeting him, - but it still made your heart beat wildly in your chest when Azriel simply grabbed your hand and led you into his room when dinner was finished and the boys all went on their separate ways to get ready as if it was the most natural thing.

He took his shirt off so fast it almost knocked the wind out of you, even though you've had the pleasure of seeing him without a shirt on a few times before, strutting to his bathroom with a change of clothes and a knowing smirk on his face. You hadn't expected him to be such a tease when you first met him either.

The outfit he was wearing was similar to what you've seen him perform in so many times, or even outside in his day-to-day life, but it still somehow took your breath away. The black boots made him a bit taller than he already was, even sitting down you could tell, and no matter how loose his t-shirts were they always seemed to catch perfectly around his chest and biceps, reminding you of his beautiful physique. It drove you a bit mad how stupidly attractive he was sometimes, even in otherwise plain clothes.

Since he always wore black, the jewelry and accessories he added always had their moment to shine, the silver rings, bracelets, chains and piercings almost shining in the midst of all the darkness. It was exactly that you were now witnessing, Azriel trying to put on his necklace as you sat on his bed and tried not to grin too widely as he struggled. The small clasp on the chain he wanted to wear seemed to be disagreeing with him though, his fingers too big to even hold the dainty metal properly let alone successfully fit it into the small hoop. After watching him fail for the nth time you decide to lend out a hand.

“Do you need some help?”

Azriel looks up at you then, eyes a bit wide as if he's forgotten you were there in the middle of his frustration. He lets out a sigh, “yes, before I throw it out.”

You can't help letting out a small laugh at the exasperation in his response, getting up and moving closer to him, his cologne assaulting your senses as you do. As soon as you reach him, the toes of your boots meeting his, strong hands fall on your hips as if it was a simple reflex by now, smoothing down the fabric of your skirt.

“You could have just asked,” the words come out far breathier than you meant for them to, the proximity making you a bit light-headed as your hands fall on his chest, picking up the discarded metal.

Azriel lets out a hum in response, one you feel vibrating through his chest, resulting in you dropping the small clasp just as he had done so many times. Noticing this, or simply wanting you closer, he leans back against his desk, sitting right at the edge, making it easier for you to reach the chain, and pulling you closer to him, fitting you between his legs, the rough fabric of his black jeans teasing your exposed legs.

Those captivating hazel eyes were burning into your face, making it harder for you to focus on the task at hand. In fact, nothing about this position, the way his hands fit perfectly over your hips, his thumbs running slow, goosebump inducing circles over the skin made visible by the crop top you wore, or the way you could feel his breath on your face, were helping you keep calm or clasp that damn necklace.

One thing you've learned ever since you've met him is that your face is an open book when it comes to your emotions, a wickedly amused smirk fighting its way onto his face the longer he watches you, as if he could hear the way your heart races inside your chest, or even feel the ruined state of your underwear. Sadly, knowing he can see right through you only makes it worse, your face burning under his scrutiny as desperate fingers fumble with the chain.

“Are you nervous, princess?”

The way his voice deepens as he whispers the words so close to your ears has you fighting your instincts so you don't press your thighs together, this man affects you too much, too easily, but the teasing litl to his voice sends your brain grabbing for any lingering sanity, not wanting to go down without a fight.

“I should be the one asking you that,” you say, your gaze escaping your command for a moment and meeting his, before returning to the task at hand. “Rita told you the bar was already full, right?”

“I don't get nervous with you next to me.”

You hum embarrassingly, not knowing what to say in response. Lucky for you, he seems content enough with your reaction, his grin growing as he looks down at you adoringly, strong hands squeezing your hips softly.

It's only after five tries that you manage to successfully clasp the necklace, a small sigh escaping you as if it had been an insurmountable task, before looking up at him, palms falling flat on his chest, finally allowing yourself the pleasure of basking under his attention. When one of his hands moves to the small of your back, bringing you in even closer, it becomes clear that he has no intention of letting you go just yet, and so you decide to indulge yourself too, looping your arms around his neck and molding your front to his, your top and his shirt not enough of a barrier to keep the feeling of his firm torso against yours away.

“I got it,” you say, as if he wasn't aware of the chain now properly hanging around his neck. If you didn't distract yourself you might end up getting lost in his eyes.

Azriel leans down closer to you, making your heart jump in your chest, his forehead meeting yours as he whispers, “We need to go then.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, closing your eyes and leaning even closer to him as if you've been bewitched.

Nails run down the back of his neck softly, prompting a soft, defeated sigh out of him. He nuzzles your cheek, bumping your noses together, his breath falling over your skin as his lips linger right over yours. A battle seemed to be raging on between his body and his brain, and you couldn't tell which was winning as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, almost making you want to make the decision for him and just kiss him at last.

You can't even begin to count how many times you've dreamt of being in this exact position with him, wrapped in his arms with his inviting lips barely a breath away from yours. The same exact thought is running through his mind, you know this just as well as you know the sky is blue. Azriel has never made you feel anything less than cherished, even when you were still trying to rationalize this thing between you as friendship.

But you knew he was planning something, and had been for a good while. He wanted to do things right with you, supporting you through the mess that had been the last few months, when all you needed was a good friend, waiting until you finally felt like yourself again so there was no room for error, something that made you feel inexplicably giddy, not used to being thought of with such care and adoration. You really didn't want to ruin his surprise, even though it took every bit of strength in your body to speak up and break this moment.

“We're still on for Wednesday, right?”

Azriel tenses slightly, almost imperceptibly, letting out a soft chuckle as he catches himself. “Yes,” he pulls away, only enough to look into your eyes, licking his lips before adding, “just a few more days.”

You don't know how you'll be able to even sleep until then. Ever since he asked you if you were free, you knew what his intentions were, could almost feel it in his tone, in the way he watched you.

“Are you really not going to tell me where you're taking me?”

“It's a surprise,” he smiles down at you, with so much emotion in his eyes you feel like you might burst.

You card your fingers through his soft hair, “What if I don't like it?”

“I know you will,” he assures. There's no doubt in your mind that he will make everything perfect for you, wherever it is. Azriel knows you well, has made sure of learning every little detail, no matter how insignificant it might look at first sight.

“Fine, you can keep it a secret,” your grin widens, “but next time I'm the one taking you on a date, and I won't tell you where we're going either.”

“Sounds fair,” he chuckles.

“Are you not even a little worried?” One of your hands moves to play with the necklace that put you in this situation, hooking your finger on it and using it to pull him a bit closer.

Azriel shakes his head, not resisting your grip on him even a little, “You can take me anywhere your little heart desires.”

“You might end up regretting saying that,” you warn playfully, eyes involuntarily dancing between his hazel eyes and his lips. You know it will be worth it, but part of you is furious at yourself for pushing away from him earlier.

“I don't think I'll regret anything when it comes to you.”

“Sometimes I forget you write songs in your free time,” you roll your eyes lightly, “You always know what to say.”

The smirk he gives you lets you know he's more than aware of the power he has over you, with his words and everything else. It might have made you feel intimidated if he was anyone else, or if you didn't know you hold the same power over him. You're not entirely sure if it's meant as a reminder or simple revenge for the way he so easily sends your heart racing, but you're on your tiptoes before your brain has time to convince you to stop, one of your hands falling over his cheek as you drop a quick peck to his other cheek, right on the corner of his mouth. He chases you instinctively, wide eyes staring down at you.

“For good luck,” you explain, way too proud of yourself for putting that look on his face.

Azriel lets out a groan, his grip on you tightening as a smile fights its way to his lips. “Cruel, little thing.”

You let out a laugh of pure joy, Azriel joining in right away. In moments like these, standing between his arms and laughing with him about any and every thing, no matter how silly it is, it's like all your worries evaporate.

“Come on, love birds. We have a show to play,” Cassian yells out from the hallway as he passes by Azriel's door, startling you both - you can always count on him to have the best timing.

You step away from Azriel as he glares at the door, as if Cassian could see him through the wood. Holding onto his hand, you tug on it to bring his attention back to you, his expression softening immediately when his eyes meet yours, sending your heart fluttering. You take a couple steps back and pull him onto his feet and closer to the middle of the room, his gaze never leaving yours as if he's entranced.

“He's right, rockstar,” you say, grinning at his bashful look, “You can't be late to your own show.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel fluff #azriel fic

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trashogram · 6 months

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 8)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.

The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert.

Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most.

Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside.

Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists.

But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.

—

The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame.

“Lucifer, don’t say that!”

The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet.

He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable.

Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks.

A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria.

“Ooh!”

Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.

“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.

One eye at a time.

“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth.

His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak.

“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically.

Breathlessly.

The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.

—

‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare.

The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’

—

Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding).

You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.

‘I love you.’

Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself.

‘I love you I love you I love you’

—

Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names.

“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!”

Oh, you could see that.

“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches.

“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled.

“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”

The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read.

‘Ehb

Horus

Azor

Carlton’

“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue.

Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd.

“You think it’ll be a girl?”

Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”

After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…”

The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.

You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down.

‘Adrienne

Charlotte

Maleficent’

You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.

—

With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box.

“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.

“Surprise!”

Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion.

Goats.

It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles.

Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes.

An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you.

Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies.

“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.

“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.”

“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”

A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing.

“Michael?” You asked gently.

“My brother.” Lucifer replied.

“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?”

The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”

A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically.

“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!”

You pulled away. “… right.”

Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction.

“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…”

There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face.

You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?”

In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”

Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil.

Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again.

Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically.

You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…”

He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience.

“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument.

Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”

“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks.

Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.

“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.

It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —

(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him)

— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life.

“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.”

Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:

“You are the best part of my life.”

He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red.

“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!”

“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…”

You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed.

“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”

You shook your head. “No.”

“It stopped.” You whispered.

Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”

His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail.

“The pain stopped.” You said.

Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.

It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t…

Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut.

“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily.

His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you.

“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.”

“Did you fall?” The King hedged.

You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within.

“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”

His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced.

You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head.

Sudden warmth.

And pressure.

A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before.

You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside.

It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!”

The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again.

It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe.

“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!”

“… And… glowing…”

“You’re glowing!”

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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that-student-that-has-homework · 7 months

Text

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone.

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger.

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-”

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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klausysworld · 7 months

Note

u write angst so well ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 I'm thinking about one with klaus, but like, something that hurts but it's comforting at the same time

Like him and reader are in a relationship and he travels for some days, reader has depression and during this time she practically can't do anything, cleaning, basic hygiene, cooking, the basic stuff most people do without difficulty. And when he comes back he sees her in this situation and comfort her, giving her a shower, babying her, this fluff stuff

Klaus is one of my comfort characters and, by the way, the speeches he has about life and enjoying like actually helps me a lot with my depression. And u are gold 🥇

Never Alone

Y/n was a sweet girl. She always was.

Growing up she was often full of emotions, crying almost always whether it was because she was too happy or too sad or too angry. However every time her eyes would water, each time her bottom lip would quiver, one of her parents or aunts or cousins would sigh and tell her how annoying she was, how pathetic it was. Her emotions and feelings became ignored, assumed to be overdramatic.

So when she really had something worth crying over, nobody cared to listen. Not a soul would give her even a second. It didn't matter how many times she tried to seriously talk to them, explain she wasn't an oversensitive little girl anymore, she knew what she was feeling and what had happened to her. They didn't care to hear it.

Instead she learned to push any thoughts down or at least aside. If nobody wanted to listen then she wouldn't bother making noise for them to hear.

For a long time, she barely spoke a word.

Most of the time she didn't even really feel anything anymore. She tried to sometimes but she just didn't, couldn't. Life began to feel utterly pointless.

That was when she would spend days in bed, not moving to do a thing. Often she would hope that if she stayed there long enough, maybe she would disappear or if she slept for long enough, maybe she wouldn't have to wake back up. Unfortunately for her, neither of those things happened.

It was fate really that on one of the only days she got dressed and went out that she met Klaus Mikaelson.

Somehow she managed to be in the grill at the wrong time and managed to both witness and experience a supernatural attack. Klaus had thrown Damon across the room which caused him to slam into the wall beside Y/n. Her eyes were wide and she went to walk back out the door but Klaus sped over and grabbed her wrist she she could exit.

"I don't think so sweetheart" he chuckled, pulling her further into the room and she simply couldn't be bothered to struggle. He sat her down in a booth and gave her a fake smile, looking into her eyes and compelling her "Stay still and stay quiet" he ordered before going back and finishing off the rest of the scooby-doo gang.

His eyes flicked back over to the girl he had compelled. Her head lay against the back of her seat and her fingers picked at her lips until the rich scent of her blood reached his nose.

Klaus sped infront of her and he leaned down to pull her hands away, her eyes glanced up at him with anxiety swirling inside of them. His thumb swiped the blood away from her lips and he sucked it off of his skin with a hum. A slither of amusement shone through him as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You can talk now sweetheart, and move as she should please" he told her, interested in her reaction but she barely gave one.

"Can I just go home now please?" She asked, her voice weak and tired. His eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged and pulled her up.

"Course you can love, come on lets get you back. Point the way" he murmured as he took her outside and placed her infront of him so that she may lead him.

They walked in silence back to her house. She hesitated to go in when the sound of her parents yelling could be heard from where they stood. Klaus observed as she wondered back into the home, her parents oblivious as she slipped past them and up the stairs.

Klaus forgot about her easily, out of sight out of mind.

But then she came into view again, she was sat on the edge of Wickery Bridge with her legs hanging off while she leaned forward daringly.

His brows furrowed and he made his way over. He took a seat beside her, letting his own legs dangle off as well. Again she gave no reaction to his presence, not even when his hand reached out to gently hold her hand. Klaus may not know her or necessarily care for her but he didn't want her life to be seen as a tragedy. He didn't want her to throw what she had away when she could still have so much more.

They sat in silence for some time, sometimes she would swing her legs and lean further forward to see the water below. Each time she shifted closer to falling his grip on her tightened and his gaze hardened.

Later in the night her phone pinged, Klaus glanced to see her mothers name on the screen with a message beneath telling Y/n that neither of her parents would be home for the weekend so she would need to look after herself. His eyes softened as he watched her read the message. Both brows rose on his face when without a care, she tossed the device into the river.

Klaus couldn't help the little laugh that left him as the water splashed and the light from the phone quickly sunk away from sight. His smile died away again as her gaze didn't lift from the deep flowing water and he hesitantly slid his arm around her to secure his hold.

"I'm not gonna jump" she mumbled but he still frowned

"I don't believe you" he whispered honestly and she hummed.

"You don't know me" she muttered and he tilted his head

"Perhaps not yet" he countered but she didn't offer a response. Klaus sighed softly and carefully dropped down from the edge and back onto the rode, his arm stayed around Y/n's waist so that he could pull her back to safety. She huffed in annoyance as he pulled her along with him.

"I don't know who you are or what you are or what you want.." she dragged and he hummed.

"My name is Niklaus, well thats what my father named me however I choose to go by Klaus, I have for centuries. I'm a vampire-werewolf hybrid and what I want is for my family to be calm and collected for one in the thousand years that I have had the privilege to know them" He grinned at her and she stared blankly at him.

"Okay" she mumbled, accepting her fate.

And from that day on, each time he saw her, he would talk at her and pull her along walks with him. He began bringing her back to his house and going through his plans with her, sometimes she would give advice or little comments to put him on a better track and he found her rather helpful when she wanted to be.

Klaus began to notice more and more about her as time went by. Like how she didn't eat much or change her clothes often. He seemed to have to wait forever outside of her house as though no matter what time he came to see her, she had always just woken up.

So he did what he thought would be good.

Klaus set her up a bedroom in his home with a wardrobe of Klaus and a conjoining bathroom which consisted of both a shower and a bathtub.

He caught on quickly that if he wasn't in the house with her then she didn't bother waking up let alone getting up and doing anything. So he started opening her curtains in the morning, gently waking her up and placing some sort of little breakfast item on her lap and a drink on the nightstand while he ran a bath. He'd sprinkle the bath-salts and pour the bath-soak before folding up a towel and hanging it over the radiator.

Then he would wonder back into her room and lift her up. He had discovered that mornings were especially difficult for her to do anything. She wouldn't talk and she wouldn't move. He was lucky that she felt guilty enough to eat the breakfast he fed her, though sometimes she couldn't physically do it and he would encourage her to drink a smoothie so that she had something healthy in her. But every day, without fail, he would carry her to the bathroom and place her onto the heated tiled floor.

"Can you do it yourself sweetheart?" he would ask each morning, his gaze soft and gentle. Sometimes she would be able to and would get undressed and bathe all by herself. Other times she could get undressed and in the bath but would ask him to come back and help her scrub her skin clean. And of course there were days where she just wouldn't respond at all and he would give soft kisses to her head while carefully, respectfully undressing her and helping her into the tub before cleaning her off and lifting her back out to dry her.

There had been one or two occasions when he had been in a rush or a stressed out mood and would end up being a little rude to her. Her eyes would just grow tireder and little tears would gather to them. Guilt would consume Klaus whole and he would push aside whatever was bothering him and apologise to Y/n while helping her get ready before giving her a soft kiss and promising he would be back to check on her.

For a while the most he would do was just a gentle peck on her lips in an act of comfort however as he continued to look after her, he fell in love with her. He would see how long one of his little kisses would last before she would pull away and he would test how far his hands were allowed to wonder before she would let out a whine and curl away.

Time went by quickly, their routine continued. Klaus would ensure she was up and okay, he would go out to fix his problems, return at some point in the day to give Y/n something to eat, sometimes she would have gone for a walk in the garden or be sat with one of his hybrid who were under strict orders to never lay a hand on her, then he would go back out and return a last time. Then she would sit in his art room with a book or a word search or something to occupy her mind while he painted and spoke to her about all the things he had seen that day and which of them he thinks she would have enjoyed. Often they cooked dinner together and then he would take her back to bed and watch a film before departing to his own room.

A few times he would fall asleep beside her with her head on his chest or in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Neither ever complained or mentioned the arrangement so Klaus began sleeping there more often and would wake his love with a sprinkle of kisses across her cheeks until her pretty eyes would flutter open for him to see.

Things were going quite well until Klaus had to go away for a couple days to speak with some werewolf packs. He had been skeptic and concerned to leave sweet Y/n all alone but he also knew he had his hybrids and asked them to take care of her. He hadn't known that they were unsired at that point and completely forgot the girl even existed.

Y/n hadn't moved from the spot in her bed since Klaus had left two days before. It only took one glance for Klaus to realise this when he returned. His expression changed in an instant and he was pulling the covers off of her, promising her he wouldn't leave her again.

"It's all okay sweetheart, lets get you to the bathroom okay?" He whispered as he carried her in and sat her down on the toilet while running a bath for her to lay in. "I'm gonna get you some water okay?" he murmured before speeding down to the kitchen and grabbing some water and tossing some pasta into a pan with water and turning the stove on before flashing back upstairs.

He placed the glass down on the side and lifted her back up, pulled her clothed off and lowered her into the bath. His fingers gently wiped the tears away that had slipped down her face before pouring some of the warm water over her hair.

"My sweet girl" he cooed softly, his hands lathering her hair in shampoo. "You're going to be just fine" he murmured, rinsing her hair out and combing conditioner through the ends. He reached for the loofa and began washing her body gently, pouring soap over her shoulders and scrubbing it across her soft skin. "Okay sweetheart, stay right there" he mumbled, zipping back to the kitchen and pouring the pasta into the colander and then back into the pan with a jar of tomato sauce before grating some cheese over the top and grabbing a fork. He brought it up and put it on her bedside table before going back to her bathroom and washing the conditioner out before lifting her out the tub and engulfing her in a warm towel and carrying her to her room. He sat her down on the chair by her vanity and stripped her bedding off and tossed i to the laundry basket. Using his vampiric speed her put clean bedding on and then placed her on top the duvet with a kiss to her head. The towel was taken from her and one of his clean shirts was pulled over her head and he carefully pulled her arms through.

"Alright angel, there you are. Nice and clean my lovely, now we're gonna eat some pasta, okay?" he mumbled, placing her cushioned lap tray onto her lap and then the bowl of pasta and her glass of water. "There we go sweetheart" he smiled softly while stabbing some of the pasta onto the fork and hand feeding her.

Once she ate half of it and drank all of her water he took it away and pulled her onto his lap. His arms circled her and she hid her face in his neck before hesitantly whispering, "Klaus?"

"Yes love?" He hummed, stroking her hair

"I need pants" she uttered and he glanced down, remembering he had only half dressed her.

"Of course sweetheart, forgive me" he replied, quickly grabbing some panties and sliding them up her legs to cover her up. "Perfect" he smiled.

"Thank you" she muttered, looking up at him "I'm sorry" she told him but he shook his head.

"No angel, I'm sorry. I should never have left you all alone." he argued, a frown on his face as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her arms. "You feel like going outside today?" he asked kindly and she shrugged.

He nodded silently and carried her out into the garden, sitting her down on the soft grass so that she was surrounded by the flowers. He wondered over to the strawberries growing a little way over and picked a couple before bringing them over to her with a smile. She returned it with warmth and giggled when he held them to her lips for her to take a bite.

He sat down beside her and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder and held onto his hand. Klaus rest the side of his face against the top of her head and watched at the trees swayed in the distance.

"I love you Y/n" he whispered, his voice delicate and airy as the words met her ear. Her hand squeezed his and he smiled.

"I love you too" she told him quietly and he kissed her head, she then lifted it to face him and pressed her lips to his. Klaus felt his expression soften as he kissed her back and interlaced their fingers. Their lips parted and he rest his forehead against hers,

"I'll never leave you alone" he told her.

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"I promise."

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