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#the ones who are involved know who they are
a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part 7
Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader
(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)
No harm done yet.
You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.
You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.
But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.
You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.
Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?
Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?
You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.
It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.
The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.
Whatever.
Fuck him.
You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.
By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.
You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.
Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.
"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.
She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....
You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.
Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.
Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.
But they looked hot. Really hot.
"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."
"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."
"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."
A little over two years ago
"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."
"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.
"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."
"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.
"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."
"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.
"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.
"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.
"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.
What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.
Dead. Perfect.
The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.
He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.
It wasn't always great to be right.
When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.
You fucking bolted.
Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.
You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.
"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.
You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.
He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.
It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.
The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.
Fear.
You were afraid.
You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.
Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.
"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."
"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"
"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.
"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.
"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.
"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.
Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.
"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."
"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.
"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.
"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."
"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.
Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.
You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.
You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.
Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.
No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.
"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"
You felt your cheeks flush with heat.
"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.
There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.
You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.
Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.
You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.
"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"
"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.
"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."
"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.
Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.
You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.
Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.
Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.
"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.
"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.
Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.
"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."
"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.
They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.
And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.
You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.
Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?
You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.
You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.
Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.
John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.
Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?
Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.
Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.
John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.
Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.
So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.
"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.
Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.
"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.
You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.
The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.
Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.
Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-
"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.
"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.
"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'
"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.
"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.
Jesus, when did you become so harsh.
I blame Simon.
"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....
Little bitch.
"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?
"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.
"There's no need for that-"
"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.
"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."
"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"
And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.
You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"
"My friends call me-"
"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."
His expression fell.
"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.
"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."
You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.
"What did you do?" Mere asked.
"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.
"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.
"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.
"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."
"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.
"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.
"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.
"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.
"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."
"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.
"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."
"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.
"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."
"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."
"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"
"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.
"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.
Unfortunately, it did not.
You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.
Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.
"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.
You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.
"You mean like they did you?"
And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.
"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.
"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.
Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.
Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?
It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.
What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.
"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.
"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.
"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"
You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?
"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."
"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.
"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.
And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.
But you didn't need to do any of that.
In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.
"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.
You could handle you own against Percy.
But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.
You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.
"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.
You knew that all too well.
Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"
It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.
Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.
You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.
"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.
He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.
Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.
It was a promise.
"We're over." You reminded.
"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"
"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."
"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."
The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.
"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.
"I know you did."
"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.
"Just did." Was his only answer.
"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.
"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.
"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.
"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.
"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."
He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.
His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.
He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?
He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.
You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.
But you didn't.
You were tired.
So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."
"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"
There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.
With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.
Only this time, it was directed at you.
One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'
"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."
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egcdeath · 3 days
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life's a beach
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!
For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.
That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.
You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.
Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!
You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.
After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.
But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.
Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.
With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.
With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.
You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.
It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.
As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.
“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.
“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.
You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”
“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.
“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”
You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.
“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.
Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.
He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.
“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.
——————
One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.
As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.
With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.
You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.
Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.
“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.
“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”
She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”
You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.
“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.
“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.
“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.
“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.
“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”
“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.
“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”
“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.
“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.
She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“
“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.
“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.
“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”
“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”
“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.
“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.
“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”
“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”
——————
After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.
Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.
You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.
After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.
You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.
“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.
“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”
“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.
“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.
He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”
You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.
“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.
“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”
“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”
You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.
“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”
You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.
You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.
What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.
Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.
“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.
You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”
You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.
What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.
With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.
“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.
“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.
“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.
“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”
“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”
“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.
“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.
Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”
“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.
“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”
“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.
You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”
If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.
While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.
But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.
While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.
Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.
You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.
“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.
Was he about to ask you out on a date?
“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.
“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.
“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”
The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.
After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.
“One check or two?” they asked you.
“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.
“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”
“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.
Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.
“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.
You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”
“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.
“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.
“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.
“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”
“So?” he replied.
“So you want to break in?”
“Why not?” he shot back.
You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.
“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.
Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.
With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.
“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.
“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.
After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.
You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.
Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”
“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.
You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”
“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.
“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.
“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”
“So why’d you do it?”
“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”
“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”
“I mean it.”
“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”
“You weren’t.”
“What if I just didn’t react, then?”
“You did,” he said.
“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.
“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.
Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.
“What was that one for?”
For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.
You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.
You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.
You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.
“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”
Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.
“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.
“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without
“What?”
“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.
“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.
“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.
“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.
“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.
“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.
The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.
The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.
“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.
“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.
“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.
It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.
With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”
“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.
“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”
Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.
After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.
“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.
The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.
You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.
“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.
As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.
“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.
“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”
“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.
“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”
“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.
You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”
“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.
“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”
“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”
“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”
“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.
You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”
“Clearly,” he shook his head.
“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”
“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.
You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.
“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.
“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.
In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.
You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.
You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.
You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.
After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.
He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.
Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.
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fairuzfan · 2 days
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"Israel also secretly hires Jewish Americans as spies to work out of its Washington embassy and its consulates around the United States to covertly surveil and monitor fellow Americans, including students. Thoroughly vetted to ensure loyalty to Israel, many of those hired have spent years heavily involved in pro-Israeli activities from the time they were in college and before. Among them was Julia Reifkind, who led a pro-Israel group at the University of California at Davis before moving on to become an activist with AIPAC. After she graduated in 2016, she was hired by Israel and assigned to its embassy in Washington.
Reifkind had good preparation for her assignment. Thinking that Kleinfeld was a fellow pro-Israel activist, over dinner at Washington’s Mari Vanna restaurant she revealed that while at AIPAC she spent much of her time deceiving college students about her covert connection to the organization. “Obviously, I’m an AIPAC-trained campus activist,” she said. “When you’re lobbying on behalf of AIPAC, you don’t say AIPAC, you say, ‘I’m a pro-Israel student from UC Davis.’ And when you’re meeting with students on campus I would never say, ‘I am the AIPAC campus rep.’ I’d say, ‘My name is Julia and I’m a pro-Israel student.’”
At the embassy, Reifkind focused on developing intelligence on fellow Americans, including students on college campuses. “So nobody really knows what we’re doing,” she said. “But mainly it’s been a lot of research like monitoring BDS.”
In a different conversation, Reifkind explained: “It’s mainly gathering intel, reporting back to Israel. That’s a lot of what I do. To report back to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Strategic Affairs, and make sure they have the right information.” Among the ways she spies on pro-Palestinian activists and Palestinian human rights supporters is with phony Facebook accounts. “I have my fake Facebook that I follow all the SJP [Students for Justice in Palestine] accounts. I have some fake names. My name is Jay Bernard or something.”
Once Reifkind collected the intelligence on her targets, she passed it on to her boss at the embassy. Then it was sent to the Ministry of Strategic Affairs and other offices over a secure encrypted system called Cables. It’s “really secure,” she said. “I don’t have access to [it] because I’m an American.… I’ve seen it, it looks really bizarre…. And then they’ll send something back and he’ll translate it and tell me what I need to do.”
Since the brutal Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians on October 7 and the Israeli invasion of Gaza, the ICC and its US-based spy networks are no doubt working overtime. But there is little likelihood of interference by the FBI—well trained to look the other way when it comes to Israel. It was a situation that even frustrated a former head of the FBI’s counterintelligence division. When I asked him why no one would talk to me about Israel’s massive espionage in the United States, he simply shook his head.
“You don’t think Israel’s a sensitive topic?” he asked, requesting that his name not be used. “So, Israel has been looked at and is being looked at and that’s all I can tell you,” he said. “But nobody’s doing anything.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“You can imagine,” is all he would say, implying high-level political involvement. I then said that I was planning to write about the topic. “I hope you do. I hope you do,” he said. Sighing, he added, “I’ve been there done that. I know it. I’ve brought cases to the Department of Justice on Israel.” Cases that were never opened."
— Israel’s War on American Student Activists by James Bamford on The Nation
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gffa · 3 days
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TALES OF THE EMPIRE wound up being a mixed bag for me, there was a lot I enjoyed but there was a lot that just felt really unfulfilled. Morgan's episodes were very pretty to look at but I couldn't help thinking--the entire time I was watching, even--that Filoni's not great at creating new characters that can carry entire episodes like this, none of this felt particularly necessary or like it was fulfilling a void that I wanted to know more about. It doesn't help that I still think her arc in live action was badly handled, that if she was meant to be a Nightsister from the beginning, her first episode should have dealt with that, instead of springing it on us later, so when filling in the background of her on Dathomir in TOTE, it brings all that up for me again.
Morgan's first episode was so pretty and it was interesting to potentially get more Dathomir lore (even if it's incredibly thin and I felt it was too close to the "we see others suffering in the galaxy, but we don't want to get our own hands dirty by fighting for other people or getting involved in helping others, btw we're morally better for that :)" trope for me personally) but everything on Corvus just felt superfluous to me and I spent time trying to figure out why I felt that way. If they had done her story this way or that way, would I have enjoyed it more? If they had included this or that, would I have thought it more necessary?
And ultimately I just kept coming back to that I don't really care about Morgan Elsbeth enough that I wanted three animated shorts dedicated to her, when I could have had so many other characters get fleshed out better. I appreciated that they were showing two characters on opposite journeys, that Morgan was falling into the dark step by step, while Barriss was slowly clawing her way out of it, but that's about all that I appreciated of Morgan's story (other than the beautiful animation).
But I'm not sure I feel like Morgan's motivations were all that well planned out. It's clear that she's looking for revenge and trying to find a new family at the same time, but it's not really clear why she's working with the Empire or how she thinks this leads her to her goals. Grievous is the one who murdered her village, how does working with the Empire (as the Separatists were folded into the Empire, too) achieve that goal? Who or what is her revenge focused on? Is it that she just wants the whole galaxy to burn, because if her village burned, so should everyone else? I feel like that's probably what they were going for, but that it could have been more coherently written.
Barriss' episodes hit a lot harder, where I'm glad that she at least got an arc, but I feel like it just missed so many marks, like why even have Vader there, I'm all for gratuitous Anakin cameos, he's my trash can man and I'm always excited to see him, but absolutely nothing was done with him, despite that he was looking Barriss right in the face there. Not even a moment of showing the audience, "Oh, his soul is so far into the dark of fear, hate, and rage that he doesn't even care about her anymore." Just nothing there, like there was no connection at all. How do you go to the lengths of putting Vader in a scene with Barriss and then treat it like there's no history between her and Anakin??? So completely unsatisfying!
And then it's another series where other guest appearances would have made sense--Barriss has a whole unfinished story with Ahsoka and you don't include her here? I'm as tired of Filoni putting Ahsoka in everything as anyone else, but here it would have made sense and would have brought that relationship full circle on-screen, Barriss' betrayal of her and her clawing her way back to the light after all the trauma and hurt, there's so much she and Ahsoka would have between them. And then nothing.
Or Barriss' relationship with Luminara, TCW never really got into how that must have felt for Luminara, to have her student betray the Jedi so profoundly, for her to fall to the dark, there's such a well of potential there and it's just entirely ignored. She mentions Luminara once and it was a lovely mention, but there's no sense of resolution or completion to that arc.
I did enjoy her story with Lyn and I try not to compare what the show wanted to do with what I wanted the show to do, but I couldn't help it. During all those scenes, all I could think was that this could have been so much more powerful and complete if it had focus on Barriss' established relationships and characters I already care about, because a new random Inquisitor is just not going to hold the same weight for me as my pre-investment in Ahsoka and Luminara. (On the other hand, with the way they butchered Luminara in the last season of TCW, maybe I dodged a bullet!)
For all that negativity, though, I really loved that Barriss found herself in being a healer again, that she found the light again. That's all I've wanted for my girl!!!! (That and put a headdress on her, ffs.) I legitimately took in a hard breath when she said, "Then you have one more Jedi to deal with." because Barriss is still working through too much to fully come back to clarity re: the Jedi at that point , but when it really came down to it, when she really saw what the dark side really was, part of her still was a Jedi. And the way she spoke of her time as a Jedi, once she had a clearer, lighter head again, was sweet, I was so surprised that we got that much from her, but I'm so glad because, if nothing else, Barriss herself deserves to be in the light again.
The way she was settled into her own skin by the time she confronted Lyn on the icy planet, the way she genuinely wanted to help her, but wouldn't let her hurt innocent children, the way she could sidestep Lyn's predictable moves and could stop the blade with just a hand held out, she found her path and what she wanted to do, and oh it was so lovely to see Barriss finding herself again. I loved so much that her unshakable compassion did reach Lyn, it was such a satisfying arc for Barriss to reach that place after all the people she'd hurt. I loved so much that Barriss getting back to this place does a lot to remind us that her foundation is a compassionate one, even if she was lost to the dark for awhile.
I just wish that there had been acknowledgement of those she hurt, the people that died because of her, the betrayal she stabbed people in the back with, rather than just "sees the dark side is bad, walks away, finds the light again", which goes back to that this feels like a generic story that's mostly impactful because I'm filling in the gaps myself because I already know Barriss as a character, rather than that it continues the story that was previously told about her.
At the end of the day, I enjoyed it and I recognize that I'm being a little unfair in how I'm saying I wanted this, this, and this, rather than digesting what the show itself wanted to do, but when you're crafting two stories that are specifically about showing us the journey of two characters that originate elsewhere, you're drawing on the stories from those other origins--except TOTE decided to only halfway do that. There's a lot to love in these shorts, the animation was incredible, the voice work was incredible, Barriss' emotional journey was incredible and I'm so thankful that they even gave her any kind of compassionate resolution. But the specter of how much the shorts ignored hangs over it too heavily for me to say that they were anywhere near what they could have been imo.
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foone · 2 days
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One of the hardest parts of coming out to my parents is gonna be explaining my gender to people who don't even know what Tumblr is, when all my gender language is Tumblr accented. I can't exactly tell them I'm "none gender with left girl", now can I? I'm a non-binary trans femme, but even that's not going to make sense to them. I'll need to explain it, but without relying on terminology they won't get.
"If gender is wind and woman is the eye of the hurricane, I am the hurricane". Closer.
If star trek is men and star wars is women, I'm battlestar galactica
I'm like a TV that reads SPAMSNUG or FONY. But for women.
If men are cats and women are dogs, I'm a fox.
Them: "so you're a furry?"
Me: "YES BUT THAT'S MOSTLY UNRELATED TO THE TRANS THING"
I'm like a one of those spiritual successors made by the original creators (of... women) but they didn't have the license to the name or characters, so they had to make new characters and settings that are suspiciously similar, but not so similar the lawyers will get involved.
It's like... At the end of the day, if you call me a man, you are 100% wrong. If you call me a woman, you're still wrong, but only like 75% wrong.
I'm not a tribute band (for women) but my lead singer used to be in one so there's still some influences you can spot once you know that.
You know how grocery stores sell store-brand cereals which are similar to the name brands? I'm that. My gender is Crispy Hexagons or Marshmallow Mateys. I'm a Frosted Mini Spooner.
On a scale of one to girl, I'm about a 16. Wait, that doesn't help at all. I'm not even sure what that means.
If Lego is women, I'm Tyco Super Blocks. Not Lego, but compatible with them and clearly inspired by them.
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So, naturally we had to, now the game is actually out, bingo the CENSORED outfit in Stellar Blade. Credit to HarryNinetyFour for showing all seventy-four outfits, and Kotaku for this article where they propose that Eve is at her sexiest when she's got more on.
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Okay... maybe not that but...
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Seriously, if you're playing to fap - this game has you covered. But it also has a few really interesting, covering outfits that seem to reflect fantasies of fashion and comfort.
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The only thing that's really not present is any sort of actual military like BDUs or combat jumpsuits. That's kinda weird, even Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain let you put BDUs on Quiet.
And that bit is weird is, based on what I've seen people who've been playing the game saying - there is really a story about her being a soldier and fighting for a cause there. But you'd never know that based on the ongoing outrage.
The outrage is weird and sad
So as you can probably guess, the continuing riot of "censorship" here is pretty absurd. It's got to the point where they even bullied the Stellar Blade's X/Twitter account to un-repost the Kotaku article that praises the game.
But here's the thing, in all the years I've had to deal with brodudes doing this kind of nonsense in various online platforms etc, I have never seen one that is happy.
YouTuber Moon Channel did a two part (1, 2) series on a different drama in South Korea involving a Gacha game that dared not to be pointlessly horny, but here's the general take away.
English speaking brodudes in this situation are imagining that Stellar Blade is some sort of iconic work coming from the anti-woke wonderland where everyone is happy. The reality is:
South Korea has a deeply hierarchical society which essentially tells young people they are to obey and not to speak up
The economy and nepotism is such that unless you are born into a rich family, your employment prospects are downright depressing
Many young men in South Korea develop a lot of resentment toward women primarily because they are told that in order to enter a (heterosexual) relationship they will need to demonstrate they have the ability to be a great provider, and then are denied those opportunities by the economy and nepotism
On top of all this, the government takes a "we know whats best for you" approach to the extent that not only is porn banned but you will be expected to supply your identity information if you want to look up basic sexual educational materials
They would find it to be an absolute nightmare realm.
The reality is that in the "woke" world that brodudes fear, we'd probably see a lot more eroticism in art, including games, and it'd be of the more focused, sincere variety rather than that directed by creepy marketing guy.
All we really need to do is accept each other as people, appreciate each other's humanity and boundaries. Then we can both enjoy a sexy paradise, but also unite and deal with the assholes who keep oppressing us economically and socially.
Wouldn't that be nice?
-wincenworks
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cepheusgalaxy · 3 days
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"So, you wanna make them ace?"
Asexuality 101: Making your characters asexual
Indroduction: Ok, so, from what I've seen in fandom and in general, most people don't really know how to write an asexual character. Many just quit it and make them allosexual, others just struggle their way without having much of a guide. Prime example is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, whom many people want to involve in sexual scenarios so they go with the "asexuality is a spectrum" route. Problem is, they don't understand how asexuality is a spectrum exactly and then they just end up writing their characters as allo. Now, how to avoid this? Teaching them!
If you're looking for a good way to get started with your own asexual oc, an ace headcanon or a media charater, I've got you! (i mention sex briefly here in some parts)
My credentials: I'm ace.
The basics
What is asexuality?
Asexuality is a sexual orientation that is generally defined by the lack of sexual attraction, or a very little amount of it. Sexual attraction is many times confused with libido, which is the sexual desire. Sexual attraction is more accurately, "the desire of having sex with this specific person." Therefore, some ace people do have a libido, and do want to have sex, but mostly are just not attracted to a person.
Myths and misconceptions
Asexuals can't have sex - as many shippers say, "asexuality is a spectrum", and while some aces don't have sex indeed, they can want it and have it as well. Person to person scenario
Asexuals don't know nothing about sex - unless the ace in question is a child, they probably may know, in fact, a lot. Many ace people like reading, watching or consuming smut, and by this and other means, even if they don't have sex themselves, they pretty much know how it is and how it works. Sex is everywhere, after all. Hard to miss
Asexuality is caused by trauma - it can be! Just not always, and most aces are simply born this way
Asexuality is a medical condition - much like homosexuality, asexuality is frequently treated as an illnes and many ace people are forced into conversion therapy. Some people also hold the belief that asexuality is caused by an anormality in a person's hormones, a mental illness, etc. But it is not true! Asexual people can obviously also be mentally ill in some way, but these are different things. It is just a sexual orientation like any other!
Asexuality is caused by HRT - hormone replacement therapy, ie. taking testosterone or estrogen, is one of the most common type of medical transition for trans people. Some hold the belief that taking hormones like those can "break" your sexuality (estrogen does sometimes decrease a person's libido, but it depends on the person's organism and it doesn't take your sexual attraction away from you), and turn you asexual
Asexuality is caused by autism - this myth may be originated from the fact that many autistic people are in fact asexual, or by the fact that both asexuals and autistic people tend to be infantilized a lot. However, as much as autistic people are very commonly also ace, asexuality is not, in fact, a symptom of autism
Basic terminology
Ace - short for "asexual".
Aro - short for "aromantic"; someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction, aka typically "doesn't fall in love".
Allo - somebody who does experience attraction. "Allosexual" is someone who is not asexual, and "alloromantic" is someone who is not aromantic.
Aspec - short for "a-spectrum". The a-spectrum is an umbrella term for anyone who is in any way ace, aro, aplatonic, afamilial, or other identities that fit here.
Acespec - short for "asexual spectrum/ace spectrum". It's a part of the a-spectrum and contemplates all asexuality.
Aesthetic attraction - finding someone pretty or beatiful, without necessarily wanting to have sex with them. Many ace people who didn't know they were ace report to having used to mistake it with sexual attraction.
Sensual attraction - similar to sexual attraction; the desire to touch someone, but without wanting to actuall have sex with them. Many ace people also confused this with sexual attraction.
Aphobia - discrimination against aspec people.
Amatonormativity- the belief that everybody is happier in a relationship, wether they want it or not, and should want and seek to be in one, and the general root of aphobia.
The Split Attraction Model
If you are looking on the ace community for a while, you might have heard of the split attraction model--if you haven't, here it is:
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Image description: The Split Attraction Model, a cross chart inside a square, with four ends. The first end of the cross is labelled "ace", its opposite is labelled as "alloce", the third end is labelled as "alloro" and it's opposite is labelled as "aro". The section on the "alloro" and "ace" square is labelled "alloromantic asexual", the section in the "ace" and "aro" part is labelled "aromantic asexual", the section on the "alloro" and "alloce" square is labelled as "alloromantic allosexual" and the section on the "aro" and "alloce" section is labelled "aromantic allosexual". /end ID.
The split attraction model divides all orientations in four groups: The aroaces, the aroallos, the alloaces and the alloallos. It is usually shortened to "SAM".
Many people find this model useful, because it sorts your attraction into two groups: allo- and a-, and yes and no. It's simple and easy.
Many aces do not use this model to explain their attraction/lack thereof though! Hence the first distinction of aces we have here: SAM-aces and non-SAM-aces. Basically aces who use the Split Attraction Model and aces who prefer not to!
A non-SAM ace may define their asexuality as their romantic orientation as well, or label themselves differently altogether. While a SAM ace could call themselves an "asexual aromantic" or an "asexual alloromantic", a non-SAM ace could call themselves just "an asexual". In this case, they can be neither "alloro" nor "aro".
If your character is aware of their sexuality and identifies as ace, it's good to know wether they use the Split Attraction Model for themselves or not.
The spectrum
You may have heard that "asexuality is a spectrum" a thousand times, but what does it mean?
Just like "non-binary", "asexual" can be an identity on its own, but it is actually an umbrella term for a bunch of orientations. When we say that it is a spectrum, we are saying that there is Nuance. "Ace who doesn't date", "ace who dates", "ace who experiences just a little bit of sexual attraction", "aces who like sex" and so on. 'But Angel', you ask me, 'didn't you say that asexuality is when people don't have sexual attraction?' It can be! But there IS nuance, and that's what I am here to tell you.
There are two more factors beyond the SAM that you can consider:
"Are they sex repulsed, sex favorable, or sex neutral?"
Here is the "aces can still have sex" thing. A sex repulsed ace is probably what the majority of people think when they hear "asexual". It is an ace person who doesn't like sex. Doesn't want to have it, is disgusted by it, despises sexual intimacy, etc. They are the aces who tipically just don't want to have sex, and are very happy without it.
A sex favorable asexual is someone who likes it. Sure, they don't feel sexual attraction, but who's letting it stop them, right? They like sexual acts, they are fine and happy with having sex in general, and that's what the "aces can still have sex" point means. Yes, they can, if they want to! Maybe your character themself doesn't define themselves as neither repulsed nor favorable, but it's good to know what their instance on sex is.
Inside the asexual spectrum, where do they stand?
Sex neutral asexuals are aces who are not repulsed by it, but are not really into it either. They may have sex, they may be fine with it, they may like it even, but they generally don't have a desire or strong feelings regarding it. It's just sex, after all.
Sex ambivalent asexuals are another thing I want to touch on. They are tipically aces whose instance on sex changes! Sometimes they may feel repulsed by it, sometimes they may want it, sometimes they may not care. They are neither strictly one, nor another. Their feelings change!
It's good to see where in this categorization your character or blorbo would be.
If I were to represent the ace spectrum as a linear thing, I'd do it like this:
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Image description: A linear representation of the asexual spectrum, in the shape of an arch. In one end, it is written "asexual", on the other, it is written "allosexual" and on the very middle, at the top of the arch, it is written "gray-asexual". /end ID.
or like this:
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Image description: Another linear representation of the asexual spectrum. One of the ends is a black circle and the other is a white circle. Between them, a gradient goes from one circle to another, passing through different shades of gray. The black end is labelled as "asexual", the white end is labelled as "allosexual", and the gradient with shades of gray is labelled "different kinds of Gray-As". /end ID.
What is graysexual, you ask me? We all know that the world is not black-and-white, and as so, sexuality is also not. Grayace is a term for a person that is also asexual, but not strictly: that is, they are the "feels a little of sexual attraction" part of the spectrum. It is called like that because when we put asexual and allosexual in two ends of a spectrum, graysexuality stands in this gray area.
Gray sexuals may:
Experience sexual attraction only sometimes
Experience light sexual attraction
Experience sexual attraction under certain conditions in certain scenarios, for example, when they are already very intimate with a certain person
And many more! Graysexuality is on itself a spectrum, but having an idea of allosexual -> graysexual -> strictly asexual is already a good guide. Graysexuality can also be described as "having partial sexual attraction".
Fun fact about gray-aces: The asexual flag has four stripes; purple, white, gray and black. The purple stripe is meant to be a color signifier of the community, the white means allosexual, the gray means the gray aces and the black stripe represents people with strictly no sexual attraction. Hence the term "black stripe asexual" (which is not very popular but I personally like).
Micro-labels
You already have a basic understanding of the asexual spectrum and how it works, so you can think on where exactly in the spectrum your character/blorbo is. To help you out further, I present you the microlabels! Much like non binary is an umbrella term with many microlabels like genderqueer, xenogender and demigender, that help one explain their identity with more and more specific explanations, asexuals also have a lot of microlabels! Here are some:
Cupiosexual - asexual person that wishes to have a sexual relationship (example: i am cupioromantic person and i am basically a hopeless romantic and a yearner. cupiosexuality is similar, but with sex)
Gray sexual - asexual person with partial sexual attraction
Demisexual - asexual person who can only be attracted to people they already have a bond with
Abrosexual - person whose sexuality is fluid, and may be asexual at one time, bisexual at another, gay at another, etc.
Aceflux - asexual person whose sexuality changes, like abrosexual, but only between asexual identities
Aegosexual - asexual person who likes the idea of sex or fantasises about it, as long as it doesn't envolve them
Lythosexual - asexual person who is only sexually attracted to people they are not close with, and their sexual attraction fades out once the become closer
Myrsexual - asexual person that uses multiple asexual identities to describe their sexuality
Aroace - aromantic asexual person
Alloace - alloromantic asexual person
Apothisexual - sex-repulsed asexual person
These are not all micro labels in the asexual spectrum, but they are quite a lot. Maybe even if your charater is not sure if they are in a certain label or not, you may find them in some of these descriptions.
Bonus questions
Links to resources with more microlabels: Tumblr post by @aroacesafeplaceforall (no images) /
/ A slightly longer list on asexuals.net (undescribed flags) /
/ Another guide for microlabels on lgbtqia.fandom.com (undescribed flags)
Is it okay if I make my asexual character autistic? Is it not stereotyping? Yes, it's okay. There are actual asexual autistic people, and I'm sure they'd love to get represented as well!
Is it okay if I make my asexual character have sex? Is it not erasure? Yes, you can do that too! As long as it is where they stand in the spectrum (as explained in the topics above), you are doing a good thing by representing sex-favorable asexuals.
Do I have to make a romantic orientation for them too? No. Your character may be a non-sam ace, and identify as ace alone!
I heard that it is erasure if I make smut fanfic of ace character X. I don't get it how! While it is true many ace people have sex, many people when writing that just ignore their sexuality when writing/drawing smut of them! The spectrum is wide, so when you are doing that, remember where they stand on it.
Why can't I headcanon this ace character as allosexual? I headcanon straight characters as gay/bi/pan all the time and nobody says it's wrong! If people don't like my headcanon why can't they just look away? Because asexual people are a marginalized group, unlike straight people, so it is as okay to make them allo as it is to take an asian or black or jewish character and make them white. Because it is not just an individual headcanon; it's a part of a much bigger problem, and by avoiding headcanoning ace characters as allo, you are confronting your own internalized aphobia, which is a good thing! If you still want to make them have sex, well, that's what I made this guide for! So you can make them have sex as you wish without erasing their identity.
I am ace and am basing myself or my own experiences here. Is it okay if I...? The answer is generally yes. If you wanna write about a different ace experience than your own, a little bit of research won't hurt, though!
Is this enough for me to write my ace character? It is a start. This is a general guide, and there are some things I haven't touched on this guide (like aphobia) so I'd advice you to do more in-depth research on topics you want to focus more on, but this should get you pretty far.
Extra
"Is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel canonically ace or aroace?" (slightly related, because some people looking for this guide to write this guy might want to know this too)
Answer: link to a post clearing this up this with some sources. Short answer though, is that he is confirmed to be ace, not aroace.
"If I didn't understand something here, or I have more questions, can I ask you?"
Answer: Yes! You can reblog this post with questions, and my inbox is also open, and I make sure to always let anon on. I will be happy to help if I can.
"One of the image descriptions on this post was off or confusing, can you change it to X so it is better to understand it?"
Answer: Of course! I will need you to signal me in either the notes or in the inbox what I need to change, though.
"Are asexual people queer?"
Answer: Yes! Because the queer community, as the name suggests, is for people who are different, odd, and are not considered "normal" because of that. Asexual people are not a part of "the norm", because we don't feel sexual attraction, and therefore, we, and by extension your ace characters too, are queer.
<2
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cutesilyo · 3 days
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you know how there was a running theme with the NPC encounters in hades? that sisyphus, eurydice, and patroclus were all involved in stories about being unable to escape death?
and its something thats explicitly discussed within hades itself, at least for sisyphus and eurydice. sisyphus had attempted to cheat death three times, one of the most notable being when he bound thanatos in chains. orpheus had found a way to bring eurydice back to life, but couldn't follow through with completing hades' challenge. achilles had a prophecy hanging over him during the war; die in glory at troy or live long unremembered. he chose the war and patroclus followed. they didn't survive. they are all different manifestations of the axiom zagreus is fighting against: that in hades, there is no escape.
so i was thinking. in the hades 2 playtest, we get dialogue from nemesis about how mortals had it better during kronos' time. we get dialogue from arachne too, about being distrustful toward the gods because of her curse.
i wonder if the running theme for the npcs in hades 2 will be people maligned by the gods in some shape or form.
arachne is already confirmed as the npc encounter for erebus. proud athena cursed her into being a spider. will we see victims of a love gone wrong in the next biome, like daphne perhaps? will we see those offered up for sacrifice just to appease the gods, such as andromeda or iphigenia? maybe those who were killed, perhaps unjustly so, because they dared fly too close to the heavens, like bellerophon or icarus? demigods that were cursed because of their birth, ala heracles? its long been a joke that the greek myths are just full of people suffering because of the incomprehensible acts of the gods. if hades 2 goes down this route, theres a lot of material to draw inspiration from.
and its an especially interesting direction because we know that its kronos waiting for us down the line. kronos, who ruled the golden age. when it comes to those wronged by the gods, you cant get much worse than being waged war against, your mountain stronghold so damaged from the attack that it loses height, and then being cut up into tiny pieces.
kronos, the crooked one. i bet he'd have a hell of a time trying to convince melinoe that the gods cant be trusted. and melinoe would be surrounded by all these narratives that would just prove his point.
just like how zagreus was in hades, who was surrounded by all these narratives about how death had no escape. and yet, his story is about how life and love bloom despite it. i cant wait to see what melinoe is fighting against now.
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soaringwide · 3 days
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Pick a Card - What is you Persona?
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Today we're going to look at your persona, or as the definition goes:
"an individual's social facade or front that, especially in the analytical psychology of Carl Gustav Jung, reflects the role in life the individual is playing"
So this reading won't be about who you are from your point of view, but the role you play socially and lean into, and that others perceive you as. It's especially important for people in the public eye, but I think everyone can gain from being more aware of the mask they wear in society, whether you want to craft a mask of your choosing or desire to be more authentic.
If we're being technical, everyone has different persona depending on the social context (work vs friends, etc), but we'll look at one of them/the main one only.
As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not apply to you 100%. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.
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PILE 1
Cards: The Gem, The Thread, The Prayer, The Moon, 3 of Wands, the Empress, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, Justice, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, 2 of Wands
Let's start with a description of your persona, as in, the role you take on in society.
You role in society seems to be of someone who prioritize actions that assist and improve others, embodying the role of a helper. You are a path-maker and actively encourage people to follow along, and they do, because they sense that there is something you see or know that they don't. They see you as someone who has accumulated a lot of wisdom in their field of interest, that makes them some type of refined diamond that shines among common rocks. You are respected and admired for your abilities and people go to you for your specialized advice. They see you as a trailblazer, someone who is not afraid to take the lead and who people come to for their advice and knowledge.
The first impression people get from you is that you appear rather withdrawn and mysterious, secretive even. You don't seem to share a lot about yourself and they don't really get what's going on inside of your head. You might even come off as moody to some because they don't see the inner emotional tides that affect your behavior. This makes total sense after the last paragraph that highlighted that your role is someone who takes action, what you are on the inside you keep somewhat hidden and probably show that to only a few selected people. I'm getting internet persona for some, for others it has to do with work.
For the perceived qualities, people can see that you're someone who is a visionary, someone who has a higher perspective on things. They see you as driven, ambitious and a force to be reckoned with. You are able to communicate your energetic curiosity to others, which makes you a great team leader. Someone who's able to plan ahead and make the right decisions at the right time.
As for your flaws, they see you as someone who has a hard time enjoying the simple pleasures of life, because you're so dedicated to your cause. All work and no play, so to speak. You are very action-oriented and the drawback of that is that you seem rather unreachable, someone who is affected by nothing and that people have a hard time connecting with on a deeper level. They have a hard time getting to know you on a friend or romantic level because you are so focused on your own path that you don't let people in easily.
What others think drive you in life is your desire to be a positive influence on people around you and your dedication to whatever career or cause you are involved with. To lead with compassion and fairness with your greater understanding of things. They also see you as driven by the desire to better your craft and work for your community tirelessly and almost egolessly. So I think despite your withdrawn nature, you still come off as empathetic, it's just very neutral and it doesn't seem to affect you personally.
Above all, as someone who values integrity, you seem to fear unfairness and facing unjust repercussions. There is a fear of being attacked for the wrong reason or by the wrong people and not being able to defend yourself or the people you protect. I'm getting that in our world, things are not always just, in social settings, or even and especially on the political and executive level of things, which makes you very wary of that and you do your best to shield yourself or others from that. There is also a fear of losing control over the situation, again for reasons that would be unjust and outside of your control.
Now getting back to you, your persona has developed within you with the goal of being a link to your community, to bring you together and create a fairer and happier society for you and the people you care about. To bring forward the ideas and values you hold dear to your heart. It allows you to be someone people can rely on to have a positive impact on them. A solid foundation people can go back to when they need to. I'm also getting the word armor, as in, your persona protects yourself.
And it seems its quite aligned with your relationship with your persona, which I intended as a way to see its level of healthiness in your psyche's landscape. I think you're quite happy with the way you work in society. You persona does allow you to grab greater opportunities and makes things happen for you and your community. It's also a way to protect yourself by giving you some type of distance between your core-self and the way you are among others. It brings you a sense of control and security (which I was getting in the previous section), which is the goal of the persona.
I would say, however, that it might feel a bit lonely at time, so make sure you do share who you are on the inside with your chosen people and don't stay trapped in your persona at all times. I really think you're a great person who does amazing things, but don't forget that you also need deep connection and authentic exchanges to remain balanced and happy. You just need to find the right context to allow yourself to do that.
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PILE 2
Cards: The Vow, The Lover, The High Priestess, 5 of Swords, 6 of Wands, 4 of Swords, 6 of Swords, Death, the Magician, the Chariot, Judgement, 7 of Swords, the Fool
First let's look at the description of your persona, as in, the role you take in society and how you appear.
You're someone who appears to others as having a rich inner world that they can't quite understand, as if they could sense the ties that bind you to the realm of the mind and the spirit. On the outside, they can tell that you seek living things deeply and experiencing reality with all senses, but that it's not superficial but rather a way for you to reach the meaning of life, in the way of the poet. But there's also some type of almost ascetic vibe to you, as if you indulged in excess in a serious manner. I don't think you appear very grounded or emotional, as if you explored your social settings in an almost disembodied, experimental way; gathering information for a purpose people cannot comprehend because you just don't talk about it and keep it to yourself. They can tell you have secrets and they might not dare asking. You also appear fully committed to your individuality and unapologetic about who you are. It's like you are not grounded in reality/society but rather grounded in your inner world. I will develop more further but I just wanted to give a heads up that this persona is quite complex and layered.
The first impression you make on people is of someone who is proud of the battle they fought and openly talks about their past struggles. They can sense that you are strong and confident even if you haven't exchanged any words yet. They can sense you are a very resilient person who will not let anyone belittle them. You might come off a bit strong though for those who do not resonate with your vibe. However I do think you are aware of that but just don't care.
For your perceived qualities, you appear rather calm and composed, as if nothing and no one could break your peace. They see you as easy going and not someone who will create needless drama with others. You keep to yourself and if there's mayhem around you, you just don't engage. There is again this idea that you're very connected to your inner self and have a lot of personal integrity and always try to align your words and actions.
For your perceived flaws, people can sense you still have some baggage you are dragging with you. You may have had your heart or mind broken a few times and it's making you lacking trust in social interactions and it's blocking you from forming deep connection. You have a vibe of someone who's always a foot in the door, as if you were just passing by. It's like, they can sense your authenticity and you do share who you are on some level, but you're also metaphorically facing away from others, not letting anyone close to your heart. There are no cups in this reading at all, so, again, you don't really show any emotions publicly and would rather show the way you think and your philosophy of the world rather than being emotionally vulnerable. You are very guarded in that sense.
As to what you show as driving you in life, you display the fact that you are here to keep changing and evolving, mastering your self completely and not letting any setbacks get in your way of doing so. You take the saying that one must change themselves in order to change the world at heart and make it a core principle. I keep getting this feeling that you're always pushing and pushing forward without rest, all consumed that you are by your what you desire to transmute.
So it makes sense that your fear would show up as the fear of losing control. Sometimes, it's like the mask of your persona slips for a second and that people see you are terrified of losing agency over your own world. You are afraid of getting lost or trapped in a situation that you do not like and it can make you quite rebellious in sudden outburst, when that mask slips. You don't like when people put into question your way of living and are very protective of your life choices and your personality. You may snap back at people who try to break your balance by attacking your personality, or at least that's what you perceive it as.
Your persona developed as a way to help you communicate the deep and intense person that you are on the outside. I also get the idea of showcasing some aspects of your personality in a way that is intentional and powerful. I think you may have been rather shy and withdrawn in the past, or even as a child, and this persona allows a safe way for you to exist in society with as much authenticity as possible. You have a very soft heat on the inside and you want to protect it.
Finally, for what's your relationship with your persona, which one could also read as how healthy it is, I'm getting that you are fully aware of the mask you wear or the trick you play on people so to speak. Not that you are lying, but you're forging a very specific image and I think you're stealing yourself a bit here because you are not communicating the full depth of your feelings to anyone unless you are 100% sure of their intentions, and it's shooting yourself in the foot because some people will just not connect to you at all because they feel that they can't since you won't allow them in.
However, I do get that your persona is prone to evolving and shifting easily, so I don't think you are stuck in that, at all. I think your persona will naturally evolve as you transmute things within yourself and feel safer expressing other facets of yourself. You do have a deep poetic heart and it would be a shame to hide it behind a wall of spikes at all times.
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PILE 3
Cards: the Tear, the Prayer, 3 of Cups rx, 2 of Pentacles, the Tower, Knight of Pentacles, the High Priestess, Page of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, 9 of Swords, the Devil, 10 of Swords, King of Cups, the Hanged Man, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands rx
Right off the bat I get the sense that you are quite young or at least not fully developed yet and that your persona is not fully formed and is some type of unintentional byproduct of what happens on the inside of yourself. You are probably struggling with mental health issues which may also be why you are appearing in such state, because you got pulled back a bit.
But let's start by describing your persona, of the role you take on and how you appear to others.
You appear as rather closed-off, quite disconnected from the people around you. You may be shy, reserved or even socially anxious. People get the sense that you are quite vulnerable and easily overwhelmed and not at ease at all in social settings. A bit of an antisocial personality as well that make you withdraw and dislike connecting with others, perhaps because you just don't have the spoons although it's hard for other people to understand.
The first impression you make on people is that you are quite unbalanced in the way you behave and react. I get the sense of a past traumatic event that affects your personality greatly and that you're trying to balance by trying to be composed and grounded but it's like you keep shifting between those two opposite sides of the scale. You might appear erratic and unpredictable or the complete opposite depending on the day. But on the good days people can tell you are trying to move forward steadily and carefully.
For your perceived qualities, people can tell that you have gained some type of inner knowledge on life and its pain and that you are committed to rebuilding yourself with hope and dedicated, even if it's in its state of infancy. They can tell you hold some wisdom about human nature and you might be quite intuitive. It's like you're holding this treasure close to your heart and you sometimes show it to others very briefly.
For your perceived flaws, the idea of being disconnected from others show up again, this time to show you are not invested in your community and are very centered on yourself. Can't blame you as I think you have your reasons, but that's definitely something people see. I really think you're just very focused on rebuilding yourself and you don't have the energy to invest in others.
As to what people think drives you in life, it seems you are dead set on overcoming your deep anxiety and just get better and get out of the hole you are in currently. You have your own demons to fight and you are determined to slay them, so to speak. Again, I think you are definitely struggling with mental health issues or substance abuse, perhaps you're even hospitalized (or have been), or are in a time of recovery and that's what's being shown out: this desire to get better and to break the chains that hold you mentally and emotionally.
So it's interesting that for your perceived fear, getting worse and losing mastery of your emotions come forward. You are afraid of losing your stability and not being able to ask or reach out for help. There is a deep rooted fear of further isolation and losing grasp of anything good in life.
Why you developed this persona is because, well, it seems you just didn't have a choice and it happened as a way to survive in some way. You felt stuck as a result of your past struggles and it got pushed outside of you for others to see, so that you could communicate your inner issues and perhaps communicate your need for support in an indirect way. It all came with a sense of urgency like you suddenly had to shift the way you appeared to others in an emergency reaction of sorts.
As I said in the very beginning, you persona appears as an underdeveloped defense mechanism and I don't think it's in a healthy state at all. It's definitely not intentional and right now you're just living in it because that's all you can do. I think you have a very passionate and adventurous core to you that got somewhat pushed back but that will totally emerge again once the crisis is over. Keep hanging on, try to communicate with others more directly and have faith that things will get better because they will!
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wtfsteveharrington · 15 hours
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don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie
content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 
mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**
she/her pronouns used for reader!
author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3
word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!
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If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 
In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 
He’s protective, that’s all. 
The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 
“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”
It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 
The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 
you drive me crazy when you start to tease
You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.
you could bring the devil to his knees
Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -
“Holy shit.”
No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.
“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 
You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”
The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 
He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.
You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”
The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 
feel my heat takin' you higher. 
burn with me, heaven's on fire. 
paint the sky with desire.
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 
He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 
It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.
Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 
Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”
Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 
You’re coughing. 
Like, way more than normal. 
Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 
“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 
Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 
When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 
It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..
Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?
You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 
“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 
Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 
“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 
“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.
He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 
You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.
The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 
Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.
Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.
He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.
Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.
“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”
Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.
“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.
“Huh.”
It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”
Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.
“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”
You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.
Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.
“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”
You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 
“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”
✧・゚:*-*:・゚✧
“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”
Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.
“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.
You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 
“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 
His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 
“Then kiss me.”
Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.
He’s not though. 
Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 
Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 
Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.
The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 
Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 
Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 
Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 
“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 
The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 
You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.
Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.
Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 
You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 
He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.
"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.
It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.
Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."
You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.
Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.
All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.
It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.
Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 
“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 
Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.
"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"
Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."
Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.
His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.
Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.
You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.
There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.
This is crazy.
Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.
It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.
He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.
Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."
Eddie's going to fucking combust.
Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."
And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.
Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.
Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"
He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."
Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”
The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."
Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.
Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.
Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.
You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 
There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 
You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 
Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 
Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 
Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 
“How does she feel, Munson?”
“Like fuckin’ heaven.”
Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.
He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.
To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.
He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.
Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.
“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”
You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.
Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.
And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 
It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 
You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.
Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.
He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.
You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.
"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.
He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.
“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”
Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”
Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.
You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.
Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.
“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”
Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.
And they’re both moaning.
Neither pulling away.
Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.
It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.
Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.
Right?
So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.
And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?
Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 
The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 
Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”
It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.
You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 
Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”
He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.
There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 
Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.
He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 
Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 
Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.
He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 
It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 
“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 
His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.
Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 
You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 
Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 
Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 
Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”
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sweetbans29 · 3 days
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Friendship Bracelets - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: After getting out of a 2-year relationship, your friends encourage you to get back in the game by putting your phone number on some friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert. You decided to make just one and that one ended up on the one and only Caitlin Clark.
Warnings: Swifties lol, this is like a major cliche but I do not care I am also going to change the order of the setlist to make this fic work better please don't come after me, cheating (not involving Caitlin)
Word Count: 2.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: This is nothing other than a figment of my imagination.
2 years. 2 years down the drain. 2 years you gave to this guy only to be left heartbroken and angry.
It had been two weeks since you found out your long-term boyfriend had been cheating on you. Something was off with the two of you for a few months before you found out but when you did it all clicked. That was no excuse for what he did, it honestly only made you hate yourself for not ending it when things started to change.
When you found out, you left quietly.
He was expecting you to lash out and make a scene. He expected you to break things and hit him and show all signs of what he did had an effect on you, at least any sign that you were affected. You gave him none of that.
When you found out - you packed up your things while he was at work and left without as much as a note. He tried calling and texting you for the better part of a week before you finally decided to meet with him.
The two of you sat down at a local diner. You barely looked at him as he tried to come up with any sort of excuse. It was miserable. when you were done sitting there watching him struggle, you finally spoke.
"I don't want to hear any of it. All I want is an apology and I will be going my own way. That is the least you can do for throwing away the last five years," you say making direct eye contact with him now.
He sits there, speechless. He tries to find words and you sit there watching him try to form an apology. Before he can form any coherent response, you get up and walk out not wanting to give the man in front of you any more time.
The next week was a rough one for you. You were incredibly thankful that you have a solid group of friends who have been nothing but supportive. They watched over you like a hawk, making sure you were always with someone and were kept busy.
That leads you to sitting at your friend's kitchen table, listening to Tayor Swift, snacking on some Chick-fil-A all while making friendship bracelets for the concert you guys will be going to in a few days.
You are focused on getting the beads threaded on the string in front of you when your friend hits your elbow causing you to spill all the beads you just put on.
"Cas! I was just about to finish this one," you say frustrated as you are on bracelet 20. Your friends told you you had to make 50 before you could even think about leaving the table. You gather the beads you were just using and begin to start making it again.
"I'm sorry!" She says as she grabs a nugget. One of your other friends chimes in after looking at your pile of bracelets.
"You know, it might not be the worst idea to put your number on some of those bracelets." She says as if you didn't just get out of a long-term relationship. You just give her a look.
"This could be good!" Another one of your friends yells as she points at you. "You will be in a stadium full of girls, singing their heart out to Taylor Swift - it has been a minute since you've been on the fun side." She says referring to your last relationship being Jacob, before him, you were dating a girl and were so much freer.
"Guys, it has literally been 2 weeks. It hasn't even been a month since I have been single. Let a girl heal," you say getting annoyed at your friends.
"Come on, it doesn't have to be serious. This could be a good distraction for you!" One friend says. Another pitches in, "Ya! That's actually a good idea, just something fun, a little distraction!"
"I am not going to put my number on a beaded bracelet," you say. "That seems desperate and I am not desperate, I am healing," You whisper the last part.
"Come on, just a few." You are now being passed the number beads. You make no move to grab them.
You know your friends mean well but this was a little much. They were lucky you were even going - the thought of going to a TSwift concert right after a breakup is daunting.
"No." Is all you say.
"Yes, you are going to make a few, you don't have to give them out if you don't want but if you make them then at least you have the option." One of your friends says.
"Fine, I will make ONE that has my number," you say so they would all shut up. "But I have no plans of handing it out."
The rest of the night is spent finishing up the bracelets. You made so many bracelets, you felt like your fingers were going to fall off.
The day of the concert is pure chaos. Your friends wanted to get there like 10 hours early to get in line for merch and make sure you have plenty of time to take photos. You follow along with your friends, letting them do whatever they want before the concert starts. YOu are a Taylor fan, but not nearly as much as they are.
Once you all make your way to your seats you are on the end of your group of friends. The group of girls next to you is already sitting. You take a seat next to a girl in a light sage dress. You say a quick hello as you get yourself situated.
Part of your group decides to go grab drinks and snacks while you opt to stay and watch over everyone's stuff. You tell them to grab you a drink and whatever looks good.
You sit there looking around at all the girls wearing their Taylor themes outfits and getting to have the time of their lives. Meanwhile, you are just trying to survive the night.
"Hey, I dropped my chapstick, would you mind grabbing it?" The girl next to you says.
"Ya, no problem," you say and lean down and grab the little stick that made its way under your legs. You pass it to the girl next to you who you notice is now alone. "You're friends also head to get snacks?"
"Restroom," she says with a little laugh. "Yours go to get snacks?"
You nodd also letting out a little laugh. "Can't leave the stuff alone."
You introduce yourself as you are about to be screaming song lyrics right next to this girl all night.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Caitlin," she says.
The two of you enter into some small talk and learn you both attend the same school. It is big enough that it doesn't surprise you that you haven't seen each other before. What once started as small talk, turns into talking life. She tells you how there are some big decisions that she is going to have to make coming up - she keeps it pretty vague but mentions it has to do with her career. You mention your recent breakup and how you the guy cheated. Her hand comes to yours as she apologizes that you had to go through that. You give her a small smile and tell her it was for the better.
She sat there listening to the most beautiful girl in the world talk about how someone treated you like trash. All she wanted to do was hold you and show you what love really is. It seems cliche that she is having all these thoughts at concert with a girl she just met but they way you talked about life had her thinking anything is possible.
The conversation continues as you talk about growing up and how you both chose to go to Iowa for school. You learn she plays basketball and you tell her you dance. She slides the comment of how you should come to one of her games. Of course, you say yes, not thinking anything of it.
Both of your groups of friends get back around the same time and you both turn back to conversations with them.
When the concert starts you get mesmerized by the performance. Everyone is standing and singing along to all of the songs.
The first time you cry is when Taylor sings The Archer. You try to hide it to the best of your ability. Your friends are too into the concert to notice which you are thankful for but as your arms wrap around yourself to provide any sort of comfort, you feel a hand come up and give your arm a little squeeze. You look over to see Caitlin's hand on your arm, rubbing it with her thumb. The part of you that once felt so empty, is now a little fuller.
Neither of you say anything about the little moment. You both just continue to enjoy the concert.
It is during Cruel Summer that you are back screaming at the top of your lungs. When Taylor gets to the bridge you grab Caitlin's hand and use it as a microphone, pretending you are on stage. She just laughs at you and takes in the sight of you living your best life. At the end of the song you pull her in so you can say something.
"I would apologize but I am not sorry at all," you say with a laugh. She leans over to your ear.
"Please never even think about apologizing for that," is what she says with a little wink. You just look at her and shake your head with a smile.
The night continues with you singing with your friends, both the ones you came with and the new ones you met at the concert.
The next time you cry is during Tolerate It, your friend that you came with brings you into her side and just holds you. While she is holding you, you feel a hand come and take yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze while rubbing her thumb against your skin.
You don't know what it is about the girl but her comfort is one that you haven't felt in a while. It is peaceful, not forced. She brings a calmness to you and you haven't known her for more than 2 hours. Anyone else would be mortified with your sea of emotions - going from screaming at the top of your lungs to sobbing about your cheating ex-boyfriend but not her. She has embraced it all and continues to embrace it.
It is during You Belong With Me that you notice she is looking at you more than usual. You decide to sing it with her and turn to her during one of the verses. By the time the chorus comes around, she is singing it right to you. You sing along trying to not let the words of the song cut too deep.
She is the one to grab your hand during this song and belt out the words to the bridge. You just watch her in awe, seeing her let loose for what you feel like the first time this evening.
At the end of the song, you put your hand on her shoulder to help steady yourself as you reach up to whisper in her ear, "That was adorable, carefree looks good on you."
She leans back down to you, "You make it easy."
The rest of the night is filled with singing your heart out and making little comments here and there to the girl next to you.
One of Taylor's final songs is one that you have been waiting to hear all night, Enchanted. She does a beautiful acoustic version that has you whispering it along with her. You don't know when it happens but Caitlin takes hold of your arm and turns you to face her. Caitlin is now singing with you (to you). You can't take your eyes off of hers as her hand doesn't leave you. Caitlin, in nothing above a whisper, is singing the bridge of the song hoping that you know she is not just singing the song but means every word.
"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you." She sings looking right into your eyes.
Who in the world would have imagined this, a beautiful girl singing Taylor songs to you at a Taylor concert. Picking up the pieces of your heart all while only knowing you for less than a day.
When the song comes to an end, you don't know what overcomes you but you bring your hand up to her cheek and just stroke her cheek with your thumb. You then bend down and grab your bag, looking for something that you buried it in before the concert.
You find what you are looking for and give it one look before grabbing Caitlin's wrist and putting the bracelet on her. She gives you a slightly confused look, not understanding why you pulled the bracelet out of the bag and didn't take it off your wrist like you had with all the other girls around you.
You give a nod down for her to look at it and she does. When she sees the bracelet you gave her contains 10 digits on it, she instantly smiles.
The concert comes to an end and everyone begins clearing the stadium. You say goodbye to your new friends, making sure Caitlin is the last of them.
When saying bye, you bring her into a hug.
"I am not ready to jump into anything, but you are truly incredible and I would love to get to know you more. I only made one of those bracelets and wasn't planning on handing it out but you are something special." You say and begin to release her. She doesn't let go of you but rather squeezes you tighter.
"You are worth waiting for," she says, and your heart rate increases. "I will take it as slow as you need.'"
She releases you and you just smile at her.
This night marks a new beginning, one that you can't want to dive into.
AN: Yes, there will eventually be a part two. No, I do not know when. But I promise it will come. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
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The Fox and The Fawn
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High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Seven
Summary - Your feelings for Eris are confronted and you make a choice that is sure to break you.
Warnings - angst, fluff, depression, betrayal, sadness, more angst
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
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Velaris hadn't been the same since you had left.
The entire population was scrutinizing the Inner Circle and the beast they called their High Lord who was doing his best to convince his people that you weren't well and had chosen to heal in the company of the realms best healers in Dawn.
No one believed it.
Rhys was pacing about the study, walking the length of it before turning on his heels and following the wall back to the other side whilst Cassian and Azriel stood before him, clammy palms and pale faces as the throbbing power of Rhys threatened to consume them.
It had been a back and forth conflict that had lasted for days, the words thrown had become so intense that Feyre had deigned to move herself and Nyx to the House of Wind. The main consensus was that a war with Autumn would be devastating to all involved, but Rhys had lost his mind for long enough to be void of the capability to see any reason.
All he wanted was his sister back in his court, safe and warm and protected, where her power wouldn't threaten anyone into daring to know more.
"She'll come back," Azriel's voice cut through the haze, his voice was sure but quaking, and Rhys halted his movements, approaching the desk and taking a seat.
Their High Lord was a shell of himself, a wild glare had consumed his dark eyes, none of them could remember the last time he had smiled or joked, all he did was speak of you, of how to get you back.
"Did your shadows tell you something?"
Azriel shuffled in his seat, dreading what he had to say, for his brother didn't know the exact details of what occurred with you at the boarder of Winter and Autumn, "No," he cleared his throat, "You threatened Elain, Lucien, and Eris," he gulped, "And Nesta."
Cassian hadn't been doing well without her, he hardly slept or ate, and he flinched with pain more often than not due to the bond being so weak and brittle, close to extinction. Their shared brother snapped his head in their direction, his gaze wide as it moved between Rhys and Azriel, both of which kept some vital information from him.
The Shadowsinger continued, "You know that y/n would never put anyone in harms way, she would never risk the lives of the people she loves most," he wasn't sure if he was included in that list anymore, "She just wants to be free. I beg you to think of a different way to establish peace."
Rhys rolled his eyes, bored of the same words, "You saw what she can do now," he leaned forward in the chair and the stars panicked in response, blinking quickly, some even vanished from the sky entirely.
Neither of them could escape the image of those licks of blame flame curling up your fingers and forearm, they couldn't escape the coldness in your glare, and Azriel in particular couldn't escape the flash of pain that shot through your face when he had taken a step back from you.
"Even then, does it mean that we need to go to war? We've barely recovered from Hybern and Koschei as it is, our armies will perish-"
"You can both leave," Rhys drawled, uninterested, bored even, as he picked a threat from his suit jacket and let it float to the floor, "Start preparing our armies, Cass." A stiff nod from Cassian acted as his reply, he rose from his seat, eyes still wide and white knuckles gleaming in the moonlight.
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Come home, or I will make sure that you are left with nothing.
Nothing.
The faint scent of cinnamon kissed the air, meaning that Eris was home, and the more intense it grew the more it became clear that he was searching for you as he always did when he returned to the manor. All he had to do was follow the aroma of you, the one scent that he would bottle up if he could just so your scent could drown his clothes and senses.
“Hello Fawn,” he called to you, his voice purred with adoration, and your spine tingled at the sensation of it. As quickly as he spoke the words, Eris frowned, noting the blank stare you held at whatever held your attention beyond the window.
Night had fallen upon Autumn, the sky held the last few flickers of light as dark purple licked the sky and faded to black.
The exhaustion was clear on your face as he fell to your side, his arm brushing against your own as though he was reminding you of where you were. Not Night. Autumn.
Eris had believed that he was making some headway with you, but after Rhys, it felt like you had constructed a dam of steel around your mind. Cold and unimpeachable. It was warranted, but dangerous, and Eris noticed you retreating into yourself more every passing moment.
“What’s wrong?”
Turning to face him, you etched his face to memory, whisky amber eyes full of worry, tight lips, messy red hair that fell past his ears; he had left in a rush that morning, negating to properly style his hair which meant that it was messy but too alluring to pay attention to. He was dressed in ivory briefs and a white shirt, a red waistcoat and jacket both adorned with vines of gold.
A High Lord if you ever did see one.
All you wanted to do was reach out and push a strand behind his ear, to graze his cheekbone with your fingers. But you couldn’t. If there was any chance of Rhys finding out of how much Eris meant to you then he would surely ensure the most brutal punishment possible.
A serene but forced smile consumed your lips, lips that were chapped and broken from the bouts of anxiety that crashed down on you, “Nothing,” you told him, eyes flickering. Shaking your head, you explained, “Nesta was a bit brutal with training today but it’s fine.”
That’s right. Eris had been too busy that day to train with you, you had both been enjoying your sessions grappling with the carranam powers you had discovered, but Eris hadn’t had the time, which meant that Nesta was keeping her eye on you.
The stare didn’t relent but you didn’t shrink under it, you’d never shrink yourself for anyone ever again, so you turned back to peer out of the cloudy glass, “How can I make it better?”
Tension fizzled, Eris took your hands in his, stroking his thumb over the soft surface and resting on your pulse, “Train with me tomorrow.”
Eris smirked, “Done.”
Faint cricket song creaked through the open window, the low beating glow of the fireflies allowed you to see the pond rippling beyond the glass panes that were doing their best to keep the cold from seeping into your bones. Moments had flickered where you seemed unsure, moments where your mind was reeling, trying to figure out what was the next best step not only for you, but your people.
For Eris.
Oddly enough, it had been Elain who would come to your room at night, or Lucien; Nesta knew when to leave you alone and Eris didn't like imposing on your space, but Elain and Lucien, together or separate, seemed to know what you needed more than yourself.
Elain would bring an assortment of baked goods, she'd perch them on the edge of the bed and climb atop the comforter to wedge herself beside you; she wouldn't talk, she would simply listen and occasionally chirp soft advise whilst those pastries loosened your lips. Lucien however was much more straightforward, he would burst into your room no matter the time, he knew you'd be awake regardless, he'd say that he could feel your thoughts pulsing about the manor, uneasy and painful, and he would come to you to make you smile.
Much like how Cassian used to.
The soft patter of rain sounded beyond the threshold, the scent of it made you close your eyes and smile, inhaling the newly damp earth of Autumn, "Talk to me," Eris' fingers reached for you, curling a strand of your hair around them and pushing it behind your pointed ear; his fingers continued to travel, hooking beneath your chin and gently tugging your gaze to his, "You haven't been yourself."
Eris towered over you, his breath crept along your cheeks as thunder cracked in the distance, a flash of lightening snapped across the sky, "How can I be?"
It wasn't supposed to be painful, pushing people away, but it was tearing your soul apart. In some way, you'd much rather be alone for the rest of your long life than risk anything ever happening to anyone you loved. Rhys was determined to take you, Eris was determined to not allow it, and you were determined to save them from ruin.
Sighing, you unwound the blockade around your heart, feeling it strain and groan as you gave it space to breathe, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Eris watched your eyes glaze over, he watched that ring of fire dim, he watched as your bottom lip wobbled as you spoke, "I'm tired, Eris."
The High Lord figured as much, the bags that clung to your undereye grew larger each day, he had asked you multiple times if you wanted to talk, but you had denied it, you had been too focused in removing yourself physically so that if you really did then it wouldn't hurt as much.
I'm tired, Eris.
Those three words told him everything he needed to know. You were tired of life, you were tired of the betrayal and the lies, you were tired of the small voices in your mind telling you that you weren't worthy of anything good because how could any good being be used by the people who was meant to love and protect them?
Cracking walls allowed the storm to seep in, and Eris had been expecting it for awhile, he had monitored your anxious actions and sleuthing, he knew that the walls were due to collapse.
"Oh gods," your hand pressed on your stomach, leaving his own palm suddenly cold, you were trying to alleviate the pain dwelling inside of you like a demon, "How could they do this?"
The mere image of your face crumpling had Eris wrapping you into his arms as the last few weeks tore through the abyss toward you, clawing at the confinements you had locked them in. Sobs bubbled through your lips and Eris felt your tears soak through the cotton of his shirt, and all he could do was allow you to go through the motions. It was better to be held in your darkest hour than battle it alone. If all Eris could offer you was his shoulder and gentle caresses, then he would spend the rest of his life making sure he was there to lend them to you.
You had spent the last couple of days playing the memories of your life in your mind, ignoring the blank spots hidden within them, you were trying to figure out what exactly had been a lie, or what you could have done to deserve a life of chains and steel.
"My entire life is tainted now, I don't know what was real anymore. The bargain with Azriel, the shopping trips with Mor, researching with Amren and training with Cassian, painting with Feyre," you paused, "Even Rhys, when did he decide that I was better off locked away? When did he decide that it was best to spread stories of the monster of Velaris rather than the stories of his sister?"
The fond memories of dancing in Rita's until sunrise with Mor and Cassian had turned to ash alongside the moments you had spent with every member of your false family.
Eris ran his fingers through your hair, his fingertips grazing across your scalp, he knew you loved the feeling, and his chest rumbled as he spoke, "Do not fear the storm, y/n," his lips lingered just by your ear and you could faintly feel the parting as he spoke against the shell, "You are learning how to sail your ship. You will get through this, we'll get through it all, together," he pulled away from you but still held you in his arms, the flash of lightening slicing across his face, moulding with the light of the dancing flames dotted about the space in the form of tealights and lanterns hanging from the ceiling, "Just for now. Find a corner of your soul that feels good. And rest there."
Feeling seen and heard felt so foreign to you, but in Autumn, with Eris, you felt alive. Autumn had wrapped her doting arms around you and used her embrace to will you back to life, she willed you to find joy and passion, and perhaps even love.
Perhaps the Mother had sent Autumn to you to lead you to a life that would be worth all of the pain and loneliness. Peering up at Eris, you admired his beauty, the sharp but rugged look, the amber whisky eyes that reminded you of molten bronze, his stupidly perfect hair that Nesta told you constantly was something from novels, "Thank you, for making me feel alive."
Eris sucked in a breath and the candles burned brighter, their light covering the ceiling, "Thank you for making me believe that I'm worthy of being happy."
Extending your fingers over his chest, right above his heart, you frowned and asked, "You aren't happy?"
"I wasn't, but then you came, and now I am."
The smile on your face was radiant, soft and gentle, full of understanding, "We only have one life in this world, Eris. That's reason enough to stop holding back," silent permission sang to him and he rested his hands on the curve of your hips.
The demon within you didn't scare him, what Nesta had told him didn't scare him, nothing about you brought him any form of discomfort or doubt.
"I didn't stop thinking about you after I saw you Under The Mountain, you were humming a song that felt so familiar, your voice was so weak but so enchanting," he recounted, "I remember the light finding you like it always has, I remember the vacant look in your eye and the scuffle of your bare and bloody feet on the ground," Eris cupped your face in his hands, and your fingers drifted around his wrists, "That image haunts me, but that song, that beautifully awful thing has been the only thing to bring me any sort of peace since that place." Since Amarantha and Under The Mountain, "I saw you like I do now, wounded and hurting in so many ways, and I swore to myself that if I ever had the chance, that I would make sure it never happened again."
"The war against Hybern was won because of you, I saw you on that battlefield wielding that sword like it was an extension of yourself, you had rose from the ashes of Amarantha herself and tilted the scales in our favour," a gentle amused huff passed through your lips, "Then you aided me, you risked everything for my vision because you believed in it, because you believe in a better world for everyone, not just your own people. And then you came to me for help, because somewhere deep inside of you, you knew you'd be safe here, with me. And that night, on that balcony of the Day Court, for the first time, I saw you and I didn't just want to have you, but I wanted to deserve you. I asked the Mother for you, despite feeling undeserving, feeling disrespectful for ever thinking of it. Instead, I prayed to her to make me worthy of you."
Eris' molten bronze gaze was trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite figure it out, not when he was looking at your lips like that, not when every fibre of your being was needing to mould itself inside of him.
"Do you know what the song is?"
Shaking his head, Eris muttered a small 'no', so you told him, "It's the song of your ancestors, the Symphony of Ash. I knew that it must have been awful to see me like that and you always used to say that you liked my voice, and I just thought that you could use a lullaby."
All air rushed from his lungs. You knew that he was watching you that night, and that song, that beautifully horrid thing, was for him. So that even if his nightmares kept him awake, you voice would lull him back to slumber, a song from his court that you had learned.
Even in the moments when you were worlds apart, strangers almost, you had still cared enough to spare him a thought of comfort in the days that weren't so bright for him either despite your own torture.
"That was for me?"
A delicate hum sounded from your throat, "Take it as a gift from one former betrothed to another."
"Former betrothed?"
Frowning, you pulled back slightly, but that frown soon turned to wonder, "You don't remember?" The blank look in his eye confirmed it, "We were supposed to get married before, well, I was locked away and you were directed to Mor. It was meant to be me and you."
"I remember our parents talking of it when we were children, but I didn't realise that it was ever real."
"It was very real."
Eris felt his soul burn, he felt your fingers curl around it, he felt your darkness kiss his fire, and he shuddered at the singing of his essence, "Me and you?"
"Us."
"Can I kiss you?"
You shouldn't. You couldn't. It would make what you had to do even harder. But it was Eris, it was his eyes and lips, his softness and adoration, it was the small boy you had grown up looking out for always without him even knowing it.
Swallowing hard, you moved closer to him, feeling electric as his fingers curled around the curve of your jaw, "Yes."
Eris lowered his lips to yours an he hovered there for a moment, preparing himself for the moment he had always desired, with the woman he couldn't get out of his mind. His lips were soft against yours, it was like kissing the sun, it was soul-consuming and scorching; his lips moved with yours as his hands ran down your spine to rest on the small of your back, pressing you further into him and slipping his tongue into your mouth when you broke for a moment to breathe.
It was a feeling you wanted to bask in forever, you felt light curl around you, you felt his warmth wrap you up in its embrace, you felt his lips on yours and his nose brushing against the tip of your own.
Fisting your fingers through his hair, you used his shoulders for leverage as he placed you on the countertop, your hands delved into his jacket and ran down his chest, and his gripped the skin of your thighs. Reluctantly, Eris paused before it went any further, exhaling deeply whilst resting his forehead against your own, "As much as I want to make you mine," his eyes delved into your own, "Our first time together deserves to be magical, and alone."
"Too right."
Freezing in position, you turned your head to find Lucien stood in the doorway, shirtless with his hand covering his eyes, peeking at you through his fingers. Eris threw his head back and groaned, cradling your head to his chest to hide your clear embarrassment from Lucien finding you both in a compromising position.
"I'm not judging," Lucien teased, "I just didn't expect to come in here to see you two with your tongues down each other's throats."
"Stop talking," you squeaked, cringing at his booming laugh, you blocked out the words from Eris, and instead waited until he scooped you into his arms, continuing to hide you from Lucien as he carried you upstairs and nestled into the bed with you.
Eris was bare bar his undergarments, his scarred chest shone in the firelight and you found yourself tracing the swirls idly whilst he pressed kisses into your hairline, allowing his thumb to stroke against your cheek.
"Tomorrow we'll figure out how to put a stop to this," he sounded so sure, but you knew he was scared, he held you a touch tighter as he spoke, "And then we'll live the life that we want to live."
His optimism was wounding.
Rhys was never going to stop, you knew him well enough to know that once he wanted something he would never halt his efforts to claim it.
After hours of serene chatter, you kissed Eris and told him to rest. As the firelight flickered to lifeless ash, when you knew that Eris was sound asleep and dreaming of you, you slipped from the bed.
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Elain stood before the oven with a faint smile on her lips, excited to prod you with questions after what Lucien had so luckily found the night before.
Simmering sun poured through the windows, the storm had broke and the sun shone overhead, cascading her heavenly glow across the grass, caressing her animals as her light spread over Autumn. Birdsong chirped through the slightly ajar window, but Elain's smile had drifted, and her eyes had turned a milky white.
Night. Stars. Snow-capped mountains. A grey dress fit for a princess floating along the Sidra.
Gasping, Elain inhaled, she engulfed the air in her lungs, trying to locate you within it. But there was nothing there.
The shatter of the glass bowl in her hands was enough to cause both Nesta and Lucien to rush into the room, poised to attack, but faltering when they saw the wild look in Elain's eye, "Have you seen y/n? I had a vision."
"What vision, Elain?" Nesta approached Elain tentatively, her palms outstretched to connect with her sisters arms.
Elain gripped onto Nesta, "Of snow-capped mountains and a sky full of stars, of the dress she wore to Helion's party the day she denounced the Night Court drifting along the Sidra. I heard her crying."
Nesta snapped her gaze to Lucien, gasping when she saw Eris stood behind him, his gaze low and pulsating with fire as his chest rose and fell so fast that Nesta thought his heart would stop beating entirely. The room became hot, too hot, swelteringly so, and Eris brushed against Lucien as he approached the two Archeron sisters.
Placing his palms on the countertop, the same one where only hours before he was holding you and meeting your confessions with his own, Eris growled, low, and possessive, "Where is my mate?"
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Author's Note
I am burning rn.
Taglist
@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla @oucereeng @andreperez11 @demonicbusiness @megscabinetofcurios @superspideyparker
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mattyriddlesbitch · 3 days
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hey! Love your writing! Could you do a fic where Tom finds reader beaten and bruised and he raises hell trying to figure out who did it? Also can the reader be a hufflepuff? Have an amazing day!!!!
I didn't specify the house, but I hope this works!
Protector
Tom Riddle x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of attack, broken bones, blood
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You were in one of the bathrooms at the sink, trying to wash away all the blood on your skin and clean the cuts. It was a typically abandoned bathroom, no one really used it. So you were surprised when the door opened and none other than Tom Riddle came in.
You and Tom had a weird relationship, but he was weird in general. You were nice and friendly with him, and he gave you short responses in return. He didn't exactly seem to hate you, he wasn't rude and he didn't insult you. He just didn't really seem to care about you.
But now that he saw you all bloodied and bruised, you saw anger in his eyes. He was livid. “Who did it?” Was all he asked.
“It's fine, Tom. Don't worry about it.” You said, turning back to the sink to finish cleaning up.
“You're hurt, (Y/N). It's not fine. Who did it?” Tom walked over to you.
“No one.” You just wanted him to drop it. It'd only get worse if he got involved.
“They hurt you, why are you protecting them?” His tone was harsher than normal.
“I don't want you involved.” You said, still not meeting his eyes.
“So instead, you protect the people who hurt you. You're being stupid.” It was the first time he actually insulted you in some way.
“Leave it alone, Tom.” You said before turning off the sink and leaving the bathroom.
The next day, you didn't see any of your attackers in classes. There were a few people close to your attackers that were injured, a broken arm, broken nose, cuts, bruises. They wouldn't say a word about what happened. 
You wanted to question Tom since he was the only one you knew of that knew what happened to you. But he was missing from classes too. No one had seen him and none of the injured students would talk to you.
You waited outside of the Slytherin common room, hoping to catch him coming in or out. It took a long time actually. He didn’t show up until just minutes before everyone was supposed to be in their common rooms. He came down the hallway, looking right past you.
“Where have you been?” You asked, trying to get his attention.
“Urgent matter to attend to.” He said as he was walking closer.
“You mean those students who attacked me?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.
“They’re dealt with.” He said as he stopped in front of you.
“I told you to leave it alone!”
“So you can keep getting hurt?” 
You both stared at each other for a moment.
“Why do you care? You never care.”
“It’s not about you. I think it’s pathetic to attack someone like that. So I gave those cowards a lesson.” He crossed his arms as well.
“You’ve never done that for anyone before.” You shook your head. “Why? Why me?”
“I don’t know.” He said harshly. “I don’t get it. I saw you hurt and…I couldn’t bear it. I got angry and wanted nothing more than to hurt those people who dared to touch you.”
You were shocked, staring at him in disbelief.
“I don’t understand why I did it. I just wanted to.” His voice was softer now. “I felt…like I had to protect you.”
“Tom…” You spoke softly.
“I thought I hated you. I couldn’t get you out of my head. You’re annoying and talkative and bubbly and I should hate that. I should hate that I can’t stop thinking of you and how you make me feel. Your voice, your laugh, your perfume, your smile. I want to hate it all. But I don’t. I can’t.” He said, staring in your eyes.
“What are you saying, Tom?” You asked after a moment to let his words sink in.
“I’m saying that I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite.” He said, his eyes trailing down.
“You like me?” You asked, a small smile growing on your face.
“I’m not saying that.” He scoffed, looking back up at you.
“But that’s what you mean.” You tease.
“I’ll never say those words.” He shook his head.
“It’s alright. I know what you were trying to say.” You said before turning to walk down the hallway back to your dorm.
“I didn’t-” He yelled after you before groaning, heading into the Slytherin common room, knowing there’s no point in arguing with you.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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Note
Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona
babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀
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*Perceval*
You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.
Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.
Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.
It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.
In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.
The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.
This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.
All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.
He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.
Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.
Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”
Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.
The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.
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ssparksflyy · 2 days
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i saw requests open and i ran here 🏃🏻‍♀️
i really want to see percy x daughter of hera reader from your writing, because i really enjoy your fics!! u da best 🎀🎀
loveee uuu 🫶🏻
ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.
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percy jackson dating hcs 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚
pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader warning(s): none !! an: UR SO SWEET ILYTTTTTTT
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i just KNOW dating a daughter of hera would have percy twirling his hair and giggling
he thinks he's set for life
and he is. there's no escape.
'you and i go from one kiss to getting married' for reallllllll
you make him feel so giddy there's really no explanation for it
if there's one thing that percy wants, it's a happy future
i don't think he cares about where he is or what he's doing, as long as he's havin fun and happy
and the fact that you're the daughter of the goddess who practically symbolizes what's known as the "perfect" life like ??
he just feels so lucky
you're also really excited to see what the future may hold for you two :))
it's something you guys talk about quite often actually
you can talk about it comfortably and casually as if it's any other thing
"oh, and i was thinking, if we do get an apartment, we should try growing some of those window still plants"
"ooooh, for sure! what about getting some of those sun catcher stickers too?"
↑ that moon-flower thingy that percy got from calypso did not make it to the mini garden... he gave it to one of the demeter kids after you started dating cause there's only one girl he wants in his life, why would he want to keep something that another goddess girl gave to him ??
he's so loyal bye
at least now he is
cause you best believe when he was flirty-flirty with rachel you freaked out
you knew about the countless affairs zeus had and how your mother was forced to sit through it and act as if it didn't bother her, and you hated that
so seeing the guy you have a crush on flirting with another girl when you thought he might've had feelings for you too?? HURT.
obviously he didn't know that at the time (we all know he's oblivious when it comes to love okay) but it was casually brought up one time
you were like 'remember when you were flirting with rachel?? yea that sent me into a down spiral i wanted to cry anytime i saw you lol'
and he was just like '?? when i was flirting??? i was?? why didn't you tell me????? hello????? we should talk about this !!!!!!!'
since then he's made it his mission to never accidentally do something stupid like that ever again so you'd never have to feel that way
but technically the next time it happened it wasn't even his fault so
pre-kidnapping, you actually had a pretty good relationship with her mother
hera would be caring towards her demigod children, she'd want to actually try and be involved in their lives as much as she can
it's not like you were having brunch together every sunday but like, she'd try and stop by cabin 2 every few months or so to catch up with you and see how you were doing
even though she already knows everything, she likes to have a conversation :)
but she's only allowed to stay for a bit cause she's got places to be, people to see, and zeus is a little bitch who can't handle being away from the wife he doesn't care about for more than 20 minutes
(was that canon or did i get that from lore olympus in 2021 ... i think it was canon .... i don't remember honestly)
while percy was missing, your relationship with her just... wasnt there.
the gods were cut off from communicating and your prayers weren't working, so you weren't really anything
but then when jason came into the picture, shit hit fan
first of all - zeus had ANOTHER KID ??
second of all - HE WAS ROMAN ??
third of all - hes being sent on a quest to SAVE YOUR MOM ??
fourth of all - WHERE IS PERCY ????
everything was crazy
you begged to go on that quest. you wanted to know what was happening, you wanted to know if your mom was okay and what was going on with her, but most of all you wanted to find percy
but chiron nor annabeth would let you go, claiming that you weren't in the 'right state' for a quest (you really werent)
not going only managed to stress you out more and caused you to worry ten times more
annabeth would hug you and grover would play something on his pipes to help calm you down some days :((
when jason got back from his quest, even more shit hit the fan cause
YOUR MOM KIDNAPPED YOUR BOYFRIEND AND YOUR (not actually adopted but adopted) BROTHER AND SWAPPED THEIR PLACES, WIPED THEIR MEMORY, AND DIPPED ????
this is what they call female rage
betrayal beyond all others
cause you trusted your mom- hell, she was your mom. and she took away the person in your life who made you happiest?? and for what reason????
after that you didn't even live in cabin two anymore
you couldn't bring yourself to do it. as much as you hated zeus, you moved into cabin one with jason for a while
who you obviously became best friends with
when you finally reunited with percy, he was there to comfort you and hold you close while you talked to him about your mom :((
hes always been such a good listener but those times is when you appreciated it most
percy could care less if he got in trouble with coach hedge for staying over in your room at night, he did it anyway !!
he knew how stressed you were, even with him being back
so like some nights he'd put on a movie and try to distract you from your chaotic lives
he knows the best way to distract you is by talking about your future, and he does just that
"i was thinkin, what about celeste for a girl?"
as much as you love talking about your future, talking about having kids always manages gets you a little nervous
you feel your face get hot and you start stuttering a bit anytime it comes up
"i-i like it, its pr-pretty"
percy just smiles and continues painting your nails
which he's not very good at doing by the way, but at least youre not stressed anymore !!
honestly i feel like you guys would get married pretty young
i wanna say when youre like 23-ish
he keeps the proposal kind of chill but also makes sure its not boring either
it'd be after a date, on a weekend where youre vacationing in montauk ♡♡
he takes you on a stroll along the shore in the afternoon, when the sun is setting and it looks really pretty
leads you back to the house, where there's an arch set up decorated in flowers, theres some petals and candles on the floor
practically gives you a whole speech about how youve changed his life for the better and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, taking care of you and making you happy everyday, officially :((
you obviously say no
just kiddingggggggg
the proposal itself is a little basic (hey its kind of hard to be original and classy nowadays) but percy's words are what make it so special and memorable :(
he hid a camera among the flowers that caught everything cause he knew you would want to look back at it, but also wanted to be alone while he did it
he gets you a gift after your wedding, a gold locket necklace (in the shape of a heart of course) with a picture of you two at your wedding laughing together on one side, and your anniversary engraved on the other ♡♡
makes sure to get you flowers at least once every month !!
oh and you do end up making that window still garden in your apartment :))
it turns into a real garden once you move into a house together !!
honestly, how many kids you have (or if you even have them) is completely up to you
cause i dont wanna be like 'you had three kids. their names were phoebe bridgers, lucy dacus, and julien baker.'
but percy is a girl AND boy dad
mainly girl dad though
he just seems like the type of dad that you come home to seeing him squeezed into a dress, covered in makeup, and wearing a tiara okay
hes so husband i love him
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icyg4l · 3 days
Text
PAC: What Do You Need to Let Go Of?
Hello beautiful people! Today is Saturday aka Saturn Day. In honor of Saturn Day, the day associated with banishment, protection and responsibility. Today is the day we let go of what no longer serves us; the day where we can no longer ignore what sits heavy on our spirits. So without further ado, please choose your Saturn.
**If you really loved this topic then you should book a reading with me, please read my guidelines and then message me privately! Also, if you had received a reading from me, don’t be afraid to leave a little feedback! Please and thank you in advance. 🫶🫶🫶
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)
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PILE ONE: “No More Mr. Nice Guy” is what I heard. I feel like you tend to have a lot of love & compassion for people. This doesn’t necessarily translate over to the other person/people though. You need to stop being so nice, Pile One. I think you have a lot of growing up to do. There is good and bad in everyone but what really matters is how this person makes you feel. Stop caring about the feelings of other people if you aren’t going to take yourself into consideration. This is why you always get taken advantage of. It’s okay to be a moody bitch sometimes. Having a sunny disposition 24/7 just isn’t realistic. Don’t act naive when you know the truth about certain situations. Move intentionally and with wisdom. If you don’t think they won’t do that, think again.
Cards Used: The Star, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, The Fool, The Moon, The Tower, Judgment.
PILE TWO: The movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind may resonate with you. I feel like you need to let go of your ex, seriously. You don’t have to forget about them but you do need to move past this person. They have caused much turmoil in your life, especially when it comes to your mental health. They could have indirectly negatively affected your finances as well. But there is someone else who is on the horizon. They want you to see the bigger picture. They want to show you better. If you have been writing notes about what you would like to see in your future partner, expect for these qualities to show up in someone that will soon approach you. They have a beautiful, colorful aura and they will let you shine. Your ex fucked you up bad but you can recover from this. Don’t be afraid to see what love has in store for you, my love.
Cards Used: King of Cups, The Magician, 2 of Cups (RX), The Star, The High Priestess, 5 of Wands, Judgment, Strength, The Fool.
PILE THREE: You’re a Virgo/Sagittarius, aren’t you? You don’t have to know and control everything, honey. Let go of the need to be involved in everything. You have been neglecting your soul’s needs. You have a lot of potential to grow but you don’t know how to accept help nor do you allow yourself to just be. You’re so uptight and burnt out right now. It would benefit you to just walk away from stress-inducing situations. If you know you can’t take that extra shift at work, why even bother? Who are you trying to please? You are making it hard for yourself to maneuver through this world peacefully because you do not know how to enjoy what’s in front of you. If only you could see the beauty of your labor. Slow down. Why are you going so hard for? You’re so used to making things happen that you get frustrated when things don’t work out your way. A word of advice: Please just allow time to do its thing. Don’t work against it.
Cards Used: The Sun (RX), Ace of Cups, Strength, 2 of Discs (RX), King of Wands, 7 of Wands (RX), 3 of Discs, 10 of Swords, The Magician, The Hierophant.
PILE FOUR: Christmastime must be your favorite time of the year, huh? I feel like you could also have a strong connection to Mariah Carey as well. Her book is on my mind heavy as I’m reading for you. I feel like you are so used to dysfunctional relationships. You have the tendency to move fast with people. I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, they ain’t going nowhere! Let go of your lovebombing tendencies and show up as your real self. I don’t think you see this as that but it is. You don’t seem to be big on communication. I don’t think you had the best role models for any kind of relationship so you just do what you know. But this does not translate well with other people, which results in chaos. Unpack why you interact with others the way that you do. You too, have a lot of growing up to do, my friend.
Cards Used: Knight of Wands, King of Swords, Queen of Cups (RX), Four of Wands (RX), Ace of Wands (RX), The High Priestess, 8 of Wands, 3 of Cups.
PILE FIVE: “Shut up and dance.” No seriously, shut up and dance. I feel like you are someone that refuses to be seen dancing in public or just in general. There is no need to feel like that. Let go of your shyness, babe. I feel like you actually have good dance moves, you just don’t want to be seen for some reason. Dancing will help you get more comfortable in the spotlight. You have gotten too comfortable in your little bubble. The next time someone asks you to dance, accept the offer (especially if it’s zydeco, salsa or kompa 🙈). You’re never too cute to dance, pookie.
Cards Used: The Hermit, Knight of Discs, The Chariot, 6 of Wands, The Empress, King of Discs (RX).
PILE SIX: Why are you wasting your time arguing with everyone? You need to master the art of preserving your energy. Let go of the need to prove yourself/defend yourself to other people. You exist just like everyone else on this planet but somehow you always end up in a verbal altercation. Is it worth it? I’m sure there’s plenty of alternative options you could choose. Just walking away could do you some good. You are the type of person to catch someone in a lie. Instead of cursing them out, you could just laugh in their face or block them. You could channel this energy into something else. It is normal to experience anger. But just know that you could always get in trouble if you never control it properly. Get a handle on your emotions. Be more logical & cutthroat. I think you definitely could benefit from taking the high road. Your soul is tired. Give it up, babe.
Cards Used: Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Lovers, 8 of Cups, Ace of Swords, The Hermit, Justice, The Moon, The Star.
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