#I’ve looked at my answer too long I have no idea what I’m saying anymore

[chahnniesroom]

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[shadowwfoxx]

Close Call 18+

(Henderson reader x Steve Harrington)

Sneaking around with Steve was a lot more challenging than the movies make it look. It wasn’t like you and Steve planned to keep your relationship a secret. It was only cause one day someone said you and Steve would look cute together and let’s just say that didn’t sit right with your little brother Dustin.

He absolutely despised the idea of Steve (his best friend) and you (his older sister) being a thing. That’s why what was going on in your room while Dustin and his friends were downstairs was risking it all.

Steve had snuck in through your window long after Dustin’s friends arrived. You gave your little lecture on how you guys would get caught and how he shouldn’t be here right now and blah blah blah. Steve was too busy admiring how your boobs looked in the pink lace bra you were wearing to listen.

“Are you really staring at my boobs right now?” You say while putting your hands on your hips. Steve didn’t respond, now possibly drooling.

“Steven”

“Hm?” He says, taking a long pause before looking at you. You squint your eyes and furrow your eyebrows. He looks back at your boobs and then back at you. “Babe you’re wearing my favorite bra how am I not supposed to look.”

You groan softly, still being mindful of your noise level. You walk towards your door to lock it. “Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas are all downstairs right now watching a movie.”

“So that buys us like what an hour? Two hours?” Steve says, totally disregarding what you just said. He starts to walk towards you, cornering you against the door. “I’ve got plenty of time then,” Steve smirks before he leans in to kiss you. You moan against his lips. Steve hands wander down from your waist, to your hips, then to your ass. He squeezes it harshly before pushing you against the growing tent in his jeans, grinding you against it.

That’s how you guys ended up naked on your bed, clothes forgotten all over the floor. Steve is gripping your hips hard as he thrusts into you. You’re gripping his forearms, nail marks appearing on his skin. It was the only way to distract yourself from making any loud noises.

You and Steve have officially been together for almost 4 months. During that time Steve has gotten to know your body and how to please you very well. Which is why he finds it very amusing when you try and stay quiet while he’s hitting all of the right spots. However, it feels like you can’t even control yourself anymore, now moaning a little too loud. Steve lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Thought you wanted to be quiet baby, hm? What happened?” Steve says teasing you even more. Your boobs bounce harshly as Steve continues to pound into you. He immediately leans down to wrap his mouth around your nipple sucking hard as his spit coats your boob. He reaches over and kneads the other, pinching at your nipple. This sends shocks all over your body. You whine softly. Your hands go straight to the back of his head, pulling on his soft locks. He groans against you.

“I ca-can’t you-fuck- feel too good.” You say a little loud but still breathless. Steve kisses up from your boobs until he reaches your lips. The kisses are filthy, tongues fighting for dominance, spit covering your lips, and heavy breathing into each other’s mouths. His pace never lets up, fucking you so hard into the bed.

“Shhh. Be quiet baby we’re gonna get-“ knocks at the door followed by the door knob jiggling interrupted Steve. He immediately stops his thrusts. You both go wide-eyed, staring at each other.

“Hey, why is your door locked let me in,” Dustin says as the jiggling becomes more intense. There was a long pause, you thinking of some excuse to say.

“I’m not-fuck,” Steve starts thrusting slow but deep into you, “feeling well right now.” You clench around his cock as you shoot him a glare. That asshole just looks down and smirks at you.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asks, the jiggling of the door knob stops. Just as you were gonna answer, Steve hits that spot inside of you that makes you go crazy. Your hand immediately goes over your mouth, muffling your moan.

“C’mon answer him.” Steve whispers to you. His breath is hot in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body. His slow thrusts allow you to feel every vein and detail of his cock, making your head spin.

“I’m-shit-I’m having some woman issues right now can you please just go away.” Your voice had an annoyed tone. You squeezed your eyes shut as you throw your head against the pillows trying so hard to not make a sound. Steve can’t get enough of it.

“Ok fine…gross.” You hear him mutter before he turns away down the hall. You wait to hear his footsteps pad down the stairs before you let out a sigh of relief.

“Woman issues huh?” Steve says grinning as he lightly pinches your outer thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me Harrington.” As If the smile on his face wasn’t any bigger. He wastes no time and picks up his pace again.

“Look who’s so desperate now.”

[cosmicdahlias]

She Looks Just Like You

an arthur morgan x reader fic

You’ve unintentionally fallen pregnant and Arthur’s the father.

warnings: pregnancy, birth

alright y’all! so this is my first sfw fic and i chose to spoil y’all with some pregnancy and dad arthur fluff. it kinda jumps around a bit, but hopefully it’s still a good read

You were fully aware with how lazy you and Arthur had gotten with contraception, both mutually agreeing that the linen condoms dulled the experience. You pretended like him finishing inside you was a nonissue, you liked it that way.

You started to become sick as a dog every day for weeks on end, pissing like a racehorse every 30 minutes, and your cycle never came. Abigail, having gone through this before, immediately knew what was going on.

”You need to see a doctor, y/n. You’re for sure pregnant.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“That’s what I thought too, but look how that turned out for me.”

You let the symptoms persist for another two weeks before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, you got yourself in with a doctor. It took a short exam of your cervix for him to break the news.

“Well, miss, I can say with 100% certainty that you are indeed pregnant.”

“Ah, I was kinda hoping you’d tell me it was just really bad food poisoning.”

“No, I’m afraid you are, as you say, ‘up the spout’. Now, are you and the father on good terms? Do you know the father?”

“Oh yeah, I know him.”

-

It took a few days for you to muster up the courage to tell Arthur. You were riding back to camp when you decided you couldn’t hide it any longer.

“Arthur, we need to talk.”

“You know I hate when you say it like that.”

“I know, I know, but I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t important.”

He tugged on the reins and halted his horse to a stop, he hopped down and helped you off of yours.

He put his hands on your waist. “Okay, now what was so important?”

You shifted on your feet nervously and took a deep breath.

“Arthur, I’m pregnant.”

He froze for a moment. “You’re sure? For sure, for sure?”

“As sure as the doctor who told me.”

You had no idea what to expect from his reaction. For a second you thought he’d get mad, but instead he wrapped you in a crushingly tight hug, lifting you off your feet.

“Oh my god, I had my suspicions with you bein’ sick and all for so long, but I didn’t wanna pry. You’ve made me so happy, happiest man on earth.”

“Y- you ain’t mad?”

“Are you kiddin’? You’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He said, kissing you.

That night you lay with Arthur in the tent you shared. When you fell asleep he put a hand to your stomach, stroking it with his thumb.

-

Immediately after receiving the news Arthur objected to you doing any jobs that could be even slightly dangerous.

He would always answer your protests with “And what happens if the baby gets hurt?”

“You sure as shit didn’t care when it was just me.” You retorted.

“That’s because I know what you’re capable of, it’s different now.”

-

A month later you had just arrived back at camp when Micah decided to once again participate in his favorite sport, antagonizing the fuck out of Arthur. He watched as Arthur assisted you in helping you down from your horse.

“How do y’all even know if he’s the father?” Micah sneered.

“Watch it, Micah.” Arthur growled, teeth clenched.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’, everyone ‘round here’s had them, even Dutch.”

“For your information, I’ve been faithful since the day Arthur and I got together.” You retorted.

“Yeah you say that, but I think we all now deep down you’re still the same little whor-“

Arthur cut him off with a punch square in his face, breaking his nose. Micah stumbled back.

“You son of a BITCH!”

Micah returned with a blow of his own, connecting straight with Arthur’s mouth, busting his lip.

Dutch overheard the commotion and rushed over, putting himself between them.

“What the hell is with you two? Can’t y’all have a single conversation that don’t end with either of you drawin’ blood?”

“It’s what he gets for not keepin’ his mouth shut.” Arthur spat.

“Just speakin’ the truth, Arthur. You’re gonna find out one way or another.” Micah grinned as blood streamed down his face.

You dragged Arthur away to the tent, Micah called out to get the last word in.

“That whore ain’t gonna be yours forever, Arthur!”

You sat him down on the cot, taking a cloth and dabbing at the blood that seeped from his lip.

“Lord almighty Arthur, you can’t keep lettin’ him get to you. You’re a better man than that.”

He put his hand to yours. “And I can’t let him talk to you that way. I love you too much to ignore it.”

-

Around 5 months in you were dozing off next to Arthur when you felt a flutter in your stomach, you shook him awake and put his hand to you.

“Arthur! Arthur! The baby’s kicking!” You said, full of excitement.

“Huh? Wha- OH!”

He felt the tiny foot against his hand.

He chuckled. “Well how about that? We got a little fighter.”

-

Another 4 months passed you by. Your water broke early in the morning and you were in severe pain all day, contractions kicking your ass. Late in the afternoon you tried to distract yourself by hanging up the washing to dry when you fell to the ground in the most intense pain you had ever felt in your life.

“ARTHUR!”

He ran over. “What? What’s wrong?”

You were breathless, panicking. “The baby, it’s-“

Arthur leapt into action, scooping you up and rushing you back to your tent. He laid you down gently on the cot, taking off your skirt and bloomers. He stuck his fingers inside you, feeling your cervix.

“What in the sam hell do you think you’re doin’?” You barked.

“Seein’ how far along you are. Don’t start pushin’ just yet, it won’t do you any good.”

“Why’re you actin’ like you know what you’re doin’?”

“Cause I’ve done this before.”

Two hours passed as the contractions rolled through you, each one worse than the last.

“Remind me to fuckin’ kill you when this is all over.” You said through gritted teeth.

“I honestly deserve it.”

He returned his fingers inside you.

“Okay, you’re ready, you can push.”

The pain from the contractions was nothing compared to this. It felt like your insides were being ripped apart.

“God, it hurts so BAD.” You said, tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, you’re doing so good, keep goin’.”

You gripped Arthur’s hand almost hard enough to break it.

“You’re almost there, just breathe.” He cooed.

“I AM BREATHIN’ YOU BASTARD!”

You let out a deafening shriek, there was silence for a moment, then you both heard a cry.

There she was, all 8 pounds of her, face bright pink as she cried. Arthur held her in his arms.

“It’s- it’s a girl, we have a little girl.” Arthur said, tears forming.

He cut the umbilical cord with a knife and holding her for just a moment longer before handing her off to you.

“She’s so beautiful, y/n, she-“

“She looks just like you, Arthur.” You smiled, exhausted.

-

John and Abigail showed up a few hours later with little Jack in tow.

John spoke. “We came to see how y’all are doing. How’s the baby? Is it a-“

“A girl, Dahlia.” Arthur replied.

“Heh, guess I have a niece now.” John smiled.

“It’s a beautiful name, y/n.” Abigail said.

“Aunt y/n, Uncle Arthur, can I hold her?” Jack asked.

“Of course Jack, sit down first.” You responded.

Jack sat on the edge of the cot.

“Now you gotta support her head. Okay, Jack?” Arthur said.

“Okay.”

You handed Dahlia to Jack, he carefully took her in his arms. He extended a finger, she took it in her chubby little fist.

-

That night the men of the camp sat by the fire as Arthur passed out cigars. The women crowded into your tent, sipping whiskey and fawning over your new baby girl. You had to admit, it was nice to have a drink after nine months of involuntary sobriety.

“Well one thing’s for certain, Arthur definitely ain’t gonna be able to leave you now.” Karen laughed, sufficiently intoxicated.

“Arthur’s been crazy about them long before this. You’ve seen the way he looks at them, watches them like a hawk. I think it’s sweet.” Abigail said.

-

Arthur held you as you slept when he heard a whimper, he gingerly got up so as to not wake you. He took Dahlia in his arms, cradling her and holding her against his chest.

“Shhh, you’re okay, your daddy’s got you. I know you probably want your mama, but we’re gonna let them sleep for now. You kinda tuckered them out.” He chucked.

He stepped out of the tent and returned to the fire, John was still there.

He put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Welcome back to fatherhood, prepare to never know a full night’s sleep again.”

Arthur laughed. “It’s worth it, I already love her to death.”

“Despite lookin’ like your ugly mug she really is beautiful, Arthur.”

Arthur looked down and smiled at the baby that slept in his arms. “Yeah, she is.”

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Cuffed

Summary: Eddie has been ignoring & avoiding his best friend, Reader, for weeks now. Buck can’t stand it anymore & enlists Tommy to help him in his scheme to get the two of you talking again. 

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Reader, Get Together

Requested?: No 

Word Count: 2,215

A/N: This is entirely inspired by a dream I had. I’ve been watching too much 911 & simping over Eddie so I’m not surprised lmao. Hope you enjoy! Much love to all & REQUESTS ARE OPEN! P.S. I almost took this in a different direction & made it longer but couldn't bring myself to do it lol. If any smut writers wanna do it justice & finish it for me, be my guest!

[A/N: This dork makes me smile...]

--- Third Person POV --- 

     "Evan, do you really think it's a good idea to use Chris as bait so we can kidnap Eddie?" Tommy asks, rubbing his forehead at his boyfriend's scheme. 

     Buck looks at Tommy with an exasperated expression before turning to look at Chris who is sat at the kitchen table doing homework, "Chris can we use you as bait to get your dad and (Y/N) to talk again?" 

     "Whatever it takes, even if you have to kidnap me instead," Chris responds not even looking up from his papers. He too is just as frustrated with his father as Buck is, as everyone is. It has been weeks since the two previously inseparable best friends had any semblance of an interaction. Not for lack of trying on (Y/N)'s part though. She had tried and tried to get Eddie to at least acknowledge her existence, but he kept avoiding and ignoring her. She gave up and decided it was best to let him come to her. 

     Buck looks back at Tommy and gives him a pointed look to which the older man simply rolls his eyes, "Fine, what do you need me to do?" 

     Buck grins triumphantly, "Call (Y/N) and tell her that Chris insisted on going to her house because he doesn't want to be here. I'll call Eddie and tell him that Chris ran away to (Y/N)'s house. Carla is already on her way here to keep an eye on Chris." 

     Begrudgingly Tommy pulls out his phone to dial (Y/N)'s number. It rings once before she answers, "What's up pilot friend?" 

     "Pilot friend?" Tommy asks confused. (Y/N) is always coming up with silly nicknames for all her friends but this one is her worst yet. 

     "It's been a long shift, okay? That's the best I got right now," she admits. 

     Tommy looks at Buck who is bouncing on his tippy toes, trying to patiently wait for his turn. Tommy sighs, "Look, Chris insisted we take him to your house." He notices Carla enter and join Chris at the table before continuing, "He said something about being mad at his dad again and not wanting to be here." 

     On the other end of the line (Y/N) sighs, "Okay, I'm leaving now. I'll be there soon." With this she hangs up. 

     "She took the bait," Tommy says motioning to Buck who whips his phone out so fast he nearly throws it across the room. 

     Buck taps on Eddie's number and in no time, he answers, "What, Buck?" 

     "Nice to speak to you to, Eddie. Look we tried to stop him, but he took off to (Y/N)'s house," Buck sighs dramatically making Tommy roll his eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time. 

     "What? Why?" Eddie asks concerned. 

     "I don't know, man. Said he was mad at you again but wouldn't say why," Buck answers possibly a little too excitedly since his plan seems to be working. Eddie is quiet on the other end, so Buck asks, "Do you want us to meet you there?" 

     Eddie sighs, "Yeah, maybe if he won't listen to me when I tell him to come home then he'll listen to you." 

     "Alright, we'll see you in a bit," Buck tries to say but Eddie hangs up before he can get the first word out. Staring at his phone with an annoyed look he instead says, "He hung up on me." 

     Tommy is already heading for the door waving goodbye to Chris and Carla, so Buck quickly follows suit. They have to make it to (Y/N)'s house before she or Eddie does. Minutes later they're waiting patiently at (Y/N)'s kitchen counter bickering because Buck hadn't thought this far ahead. All he had was a plan to get them there and handcuffs to make sure they stay. He has no clue how to get them in the same room. 

     As (Y/N) pulls into her driveway, she wonders if the boys called Eddie but decides it doesn't matter, he'll just take Chris and leave if they did. She makes her way into her house to find Buck and Tommy standing at the kitchen counter. She drops her bag at the door and makes her way over to them, dropping her keys and phone on the counter when she does, "Where's Chris?" 

     Quick on his feet Tommy replies, "He's in your room. Pretty upset and won't let us in." 

     (Y/N) tilts her head at them, "Why is he in my room?" 

     Buck chimes in, "He said he felt safer and calmer in there." 

     (Y/N) runs her fingers through her hair and sighs, "Okay, I guess I'll go talk to him. Maybe he won't pull a stunt like his father has for weeks." She makes her way down the hallway to her room but thinks nothing of the fact that Buck and Tommy are right on her heels. She doesn't notice Buck pull a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket behind her back. (Y/N) knocks on her bedroom door before opening it slowly. She looks around the room and even under the bed, but Chris is nowhere to be seen. She turns around to her friends with confusion on her face but before she can say a word Tommy is sweeping her up onto his shoulder and plopping her onto the end of the bed as Buck immediately cuffs her left hand to the metal footboard. She looks up at them in pure confusion and shock, "What the hell?!" 

     Buck shrugs, "Sorry (Y/N). This is the only thing I could think of to get him to talk to you." Before she can say, "How exactly is this gonna help?" Tommy wraps the bandana he swiped from the top of her dresser around her head and ties it, covering her mouth to keep her quiet.  

     Buck gives his own look of confusion but Tommy shrugs, "Figured we don't want her warning him." (Y/N) glares up at her friends but Tommy simply ruffles her hair before pulling Buck out of the room. 

     Outside the closed bedroom door Tommy dishes out instructions, "Listen, same thing we did with her, except he's gonna see her when he opens the door and know it's a set up so we have to be quicker. Also, handcuff him to her other hand not the bed," Buck nods and the two return to the kitchen. 

     Moments later they repeat the process as planned and soon have Eddie handcuffed to (Y/N). Buck grins triumphantly and Tommy can't help but adore how happy this has made his darling boyfriend; he just hopes it works. Their two friends glare up at them. Eddie is the first to speak, "Why is she gagged?" 

     "Oh yeah, sorry about that (Y/N). Here let me," Buck removes the bandana and the three men look at her waiting for her to say something but all she does is glare up at them with her jaw clenched. 

     Without pulling his eyes away from her, Eddie chuckles, "She's not speaking, you guys are dead men walking." At this, (Y/N) turns her head to glare daggers at Eddie. 

     Tommy begins pulling Buck from the room, "I think we might all be dead when she gets loose," he admits closing the door behind them. 

     It's silent for several heart beats before Eddie finally speaks up, "I should've known this was a set up." 

     She grinds her teeth, "What so you could just avoid me even more?" Eddie sighs and looks down at where their hands are cuffed together. He knows he's upset her, but he can't bring himself to explain why. He looks up at her face to find her still glaring at the door Buck and Tommy left through. He finds her jaw so clenched it looks like it hurts.  

     With his free hand he reaches up and gently massages his thumb against her jaw, "You're gonna crack your teeth." She says nothing. He sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair.  

     It's silent for a few more moments before she finally speaks, "There's a paperclip in my side table drawer holding some pictures. Give it here so I can pick these cuffs." 

     Eddie looks over at the drawer but stops to think for a moment. He can't stand it anymore, "No." 

     She whips her head around to glare at him now, "What do you mean no? That's what you want isn't it? To be as far away from me as possible?" 

     He locks eyes with her and can see the hurt hidden away behind her anger, "Not at all." 

     Her gaze softens just the slightest bit and finally her jaw relaxes, "Then why?" 

     She doesn't need to specify, he knows exactly what she's referring to, "Because I'm a dumbass." 

     She laughs softly and looks away, "Can't argue with you there." Eddie lifts his free hand again to place it on the other side of her face and tug her to look at him. When she does, the anger is gone and all that remains is the pain. He mentally scolds himself for hurting her so badly. That's never what he intended to do. 

     He takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I-" something inside him tells him to just stop talking and leave it at that, perhaps fear, but he refuses, "I thought that by distancing myself from you I'd be saving both of us from getting hurt." 

     Astonishment etches her features, "What are you talking about, Eddie?" 

     He lets her face go and looks down at where his hand drops in his lap, "I thought if I distanced myself from you then these feelings would go away and I wouldn't risk losing our friendship but apparently I've risked it anyway." 

     With the hand that is cuffed to his she reaches up to tug his chin toward her. When they lock eyes again, she asks, "What feelings? What do you mean risk losing our friendship?" 

     He swallows hard before willing the words out of his mouth, "I love you (Y/N). I have for a while now. I know you don't feel the same and I didn't want to risk making it awkward between us." 

     Her facial expression goes slack, "You're really are a dumbass then huh?" His confusion prompts her to continue, "I love you too, idiot. It started as what I thought was a little crush the first time I met you, but god has it snowballed into more." 

     He can't think of anything to say in this moment. He doesn't want to think. All he wants to do is kiss her until they're both struggling to breathe. So, he does. His lips clash with hers and she doesn't pull away. Encouraged by this he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip to which she happily obliges. His free hand ghosts up her body to cup her jaw. She fumbles with their connected hands before finally managing to get her arm around his neck pulling him closer and letting his hand dangle from her's. It feels like eons later when the two finally part for air, but Eddie thinks it wasn't long enough.  

     She runs her thumb up and down his jaw, their faces still so close that their breaths fan each other's lips. She's the first to speak, "I wanted to yell at you. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out, but I can't. All I want right now is your lips on mine." 

     "These cuffs make it a little difficult huh?" he chuckles tugging their connection. She nods, laughing as she unravels her arm from around his neck. He leans toward the side table and sure enough finds a paperclip binding together pictures of them and their team. He returns to her side and hands it to her, allowing her to unlock the cuffs around their wrists. Just as she gets it unlocked, he grabs her hand and gently takes the paperclip back. She looks at him in shock as he frees his wrist and returns the paperclip to its job of binding together the photos, leaving her other wrist still locked to the end of the bed. 

     When he returns to her side, he peppers kisses along her jaw and neck. Her free hand automatically finds itself in his hair, but she jangles the other in frustration, "Eddie-"  

     He pulls away and shushes her with a finger against her lips before she can finish, "You're not going anywhere, Mi Amor." 

     She pouts as he leans into her making her back touch the bed. Sneakily, she grabs the other pair of handcuffs from where they absentmindedly left them on the bed. His return to her neck is cut short when she clicks the cuffs around his right wrist that has found its way to her hip. He pulls back just barely to look but that's all the space she needs to pull his hand up and attach it to the metal right beside hers. He looks between their hands and her face in surprise. 

     She grins mischievously, "You should've turned me loose." 

     He sighs and drops his head to rest on her collarbone, "Okay, but now I can't reach the paperclip." 

     Her grin gets wider as she places her hand on the back of his neck and tugs lightly on the ends of his hair, "Exactly." 

Masterlist

More 911

[yelenasdiary]

For the “a widows sunshine” series, Wanda meeting y/n for the first time is something i’d loooveee to see

Meet & Greet

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Nat asks if Wanda would like to meet you for the very first time.

Comfort

Warnings: None | 1.4K

Translations: moya lyubov' (my love),

AC: Thank you for sending this! I’ve been plotting my mind for an idea on how this would go so I hope you enjoy! x 

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

“I know it’s selfish of me to say but I don’t want you to go” Wanda said, watching as Nat packed some of her dirty laundry to take home. Her and Wanda had just gotten back from a three-week mission late last night and as much as Natasha loved having one-on-one time with her girlfriend, she missed you and couldn’t wait to get home. Nat turned and smiled softly at the brunette who was still in bed, “why don’t you come with me?” She asked. 

Wanda sat up, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?” She asked, knowing what this step in the relationship would mean. Nat nodded as she sat down beside Wanda and gently took her hand, “I want you to meet my little girl” she replied, smiling softly once more. Wanda’s eye lit up, “I’d love to meet her, can you give me like half hour to get ready?” She asked. 

Nat chuckled, “by half hour you mean an hour, I’ll meet you downstairs?” 

Wanda smiled before pulling Nat in for a deep kiss, “you know me so well” she whispered before throwing the covers off her body. 

While Nat waited ever so patiently for Wanda to get herself ready, she picked up the book she was reading on the jet back to the compound last night when Clint entered the compound’s living room. “You all set?” He asked. Nat looked at her watch, “in about 15 minutes we will be” she replied, her eyes returning to the paragraph she was up too. 

“We?” Clint questioned causing Nat to finish the page she was on before she looked at her best friend. “Wanda is coming with us” she replied hoping that he wouldn’t make a bit deal of it. He smiled softly, “She’s coming to meet Y/n?” He questioned, already knowing the answer as Nat nodded. 

“I think it’s time and I have no doubt that Y/n is going to love her” she replied with her signature smirk tugging at her lips. 

----

Since Laura told you over breakfast that your mom was coming home today, you could barely take your eyes off the long driveway of your aunt and uncles farmhouse. It’s been a long three weeks with only small communication with your beloved mother, you missed her. Staying with your aunt Laura was always fun and you loved playing with your cousin, Cooper, but it never covered the fact you missed your mother. 

“Y/n, honey, come have some lunch” Laura called out from the kitchen as she finished up making a sandwich and cutting up apple slices for you and Cooper to eat but you were to excited to leave the window that had the perfect view of the driveway. When you didn’t come running into the kitchen, Laura knew there was no way to get you away from your spot even for your favorite sandwich. 

“SHE’S HERE, SHE’S HERE!!!” You jumped up and down when you saw Clint’s car driving up the driveway only moments after Laura called you to lunch. Before your aunt could say another word, you raced out the front door and waited patiently on the porch waving your tiny hand just eager to lay eyes on your mother once again. 

“You look a little nervous” Nat said softly, her hand placed gently on Wanda’s thigh, “don’t be love, she’s going to love you” she added as Clint parked the car. Natasha could hear you calling for her from the porch, hearing your voice brought a smile to her lips. “Do you need a minute?” She asked Wanda who shook her head, “I’m ready” she gave the red head a soft smile. Nat opened the passenger door, you couldn’t hold your excitement anymore as you ran down the small steps of the porch and towards the opened door. 

“Mommy!” You called happily as she stepped out of the car and instantly kneeled with her arms wide open. You crashed into them, wrapping your small arms around her tightly. “My god! Have you grown since I was away?” Your mother asked, hugging you tightly in her arms as she stood up. You lent back, giggling as you shook your head, “no mommy! I’m still the same” you replied, bringing a smile to your mother’s lips. 

Out the corner of your eyes you saw another woman appear from the car, she closed the door gently and watched the small reunion between you and your mother. Naturally, you got shy when you looked over at the stranger, nuzzling into your mother’s hold for a sense of comfort. 

“Darling, I want you to meet somebody” Nat’s soft, raspy voice helped distract any nervous feelings you were beginning to have. Wanda slowly began to walk around the car to be close to you and Natasha, making you shake your head. “It’s okay moya lyubov' she won’t hurt you” your mother whispered. You looked up at her, “she’s very special to me, just like you are” Nat added. You took a few moments to let your feelings sink in before you agreed and asked to be put down. 

“Y/n, this is Wanda” Natasha started. 

Wanda got down on her knees to be at face level with you as she reached her hand out. You’d seen people shake hands before, you'd seen your mother do it a few times and it was shown in some of the cartoons you’d watch. Slowly, you took the woman’s hand. Her hand was soft and warm, which made you smile softly at her. Her eyes were similar to your mother’s, she had brown hair, and she was a little taller than your mom. Her name reminded you of the fairy in fairly odd parents. 

“Hi Y/n, it’s lovely to meet you” Wanda smiled, gently giving your small hand a shake. 

“You have pretty eyes” you replied. Wanda’s smile grew as she let go of your hand, “why thank you. I must say, you look exactly like your mommy” she said. Her compliment made you smile before you looked up at your mom, “is Wanda staying with us for dinner?” You asked. 

“She is baby, is that okay?” Your mother asked, you nodded before your eyes shifted back to Wanda, “do you want a cupcake? I made some with auntie Laura yesterday! I have pink and purple icing on them!” You asked. 

“I would love one!” Wanda smiled once more.

----

Natasha sat on the swinging chair on the porch while you showed Wanda the treehouse that Clint had built for you and Cooper to play in. She was joined by Clint and Laura listening to your slightly muffled giggles while you played tea parties with Wanda, you asked her many questions, one including asking if she was a fairy or if she had seen fairly odd parents. 

When dinner was ready, you, Wanda, Clint, Laura, Cooper and your mother all sat at the dining table. You sat between Natasha and Wanda, boosting to your mother about all the new things you just learnt about your new friend. After dinner, Nat gave you a bubble bath. She washed your hair, and you told her all about the things you did while she was away. 

“Do you work with Wanda mommy?” You asked her, once she had rinsed the shampoo from your hair. “I do” your mother replied, grabbing the bar of soap and rubbing it into a cloth until the lathered in bubbles. “Do you like her?” Your mother asked. 

“She’s funny and she said loves the cupcakes I made” you replied with a smile before Natasha began to wash your arms with the soapy cloth. “Why did you say she’s special to you?” You asked. 

Your question took Natasha by slight surprise, she took a moment to think of the perfect way to explain to you. This was new to her as much as it would be for you. For as long as you’ve known, it’s always been you and your mother along with your aunt Laura and uncle Clint and the other extended family you called your aunts and uncles.

“Well sweetie, you know how aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony are boyfriend and girlfriend?” She asked, you nodded at her words, “Mommy and Wanda are girlfriends. That’s why she is special to me and it’s important to me to know what you think” she went on, “because Wanda is special to me, but you will always come first, I promise” she added. 

Even if you didn’t quite understand what your mother meant but you liked Wanda and didn’t want her to go away. ��Will Wanda come home with us tomorrow?” You asked.

“Only if you want her too” 

“I want her to! I want to show her my other toys” you smiled. Your happiness only warmed your mother’s heart, “she’s going to love your toys” Nat replied before she back to rinse off the soap from your arms.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | @noturlondonboy | @lovelyy-moonlight | @ghxst-guts | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[ghettogirly]

how do you think armando would react if He is too much in love with the reader, but she is younger than him (I mean Armando is obviously twenty-eight but the reader is still in his 20s) I would appreciate it very much, I love you 💗🌷✨

I don't know how many times I've ordered, but here I am again 🛐🙃♥️

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𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑!𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

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-> synopsis: how would armando be when loving a girl who’s 10 years younger than him? armando is 32 and the reader is 22.

-> theme: age gap, comedy, suggestive.

-> format: headcanon/drabble.

-> warnings: mention of age gap relationships, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m going to be putting updates out slower since I’m not that well guys. nevertheless i hope you enjoyed! I love your requests!! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! 🌸

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[🌸] 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> older!armando would literally first meet you when he picked his son, Alejandro, up from class.

-> it would be the first time meeting you as you’re a new teacher in the school.

-> so when he came to pick up his son, it’s safe to say you was utterly shocked at the resemblance and at the way they both acted.

-> Armando displayed the same cheekiness Alejandro did, smiling at you as his son was going on about his day.

-> “Parece que realmente disfruta de tus clases.”

-> “he’s a lot like you.”

-> “they say that, gotta come see from the source though, eh?”

-> oh.

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[🌸] 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> you found out that Armando is divorced ,

honestly you was kind of happy.

-> it may be inappropriate to admire your own student’s father but what can you do if he’s the most attractive man you’ve saw in your life.

-> he noticed your staring but didn’t mind, he thought you was the most beautiful woman to exist too.

-> so he took his chances and asked you out.

-> to which you accepted.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐀.

-> he took you to an 90s themed restaurant where old school rnb was playing, wanting you to hear the music that was around when he was younger.

-> getting to know each other, you found out that he was a business owner. Having multiple offices around Miami helping those to build their perfect house.

-> “all those beautiful houses you see in Miami, i’ve built most of them.”

-> “i never would’ve imagined that’s the work you do.”

-> seeing him laugh and smile literally made your heart warm. “what can i say? i like getting my hands a bit dirty.”

-> you nearly choked on your drink. Armando was definitely enjoying seeing you flustered, making these tiny comments from even the moment he met you.

-> ordering food, you both ate and enjoyed each others presence.

-> “¿Te importa que sea mayor que tú?”

-> your eyes widened at the question. Putting your utensils down, you looked up at him to which he waiting for your answer.

-> “You would be the oldest man i’ve ever spoken to romantically but i don’t object to the idea of it.”

-> He smiled at that. “Good.”

-> after the date, he drove you back home as it was a little bit after 9pm. You thanked him and then kissed his cheek as a thank you.

-> wanting more, he lightly turned your face to his and gave you a peck on your lips. Making you blush at his bold advance.

-> “Hopefully i’ll see you again soon.”

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[🌸] 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄:

-> it’s been a couple months into yours and Armando’s relationship.

-> Honestly one of the healthiest relationships you’ve been in.

-> he always picks you up from work, not wanting you to walk back anymore, especially after a long day.

-> you always stay over at his on the weekend, relaxing with him and Alejandro by watching some movies or even going out to the park.

-> The age gap between you and Armando can be visible at some points, especially when it comes to social media.

“Nena, ¿sabes qué es tiktok?”

-> You nearly laughed at him even mentioning it. “What do you know about tiktok?”

“My employees told me to download it but i just don’t get the app.”

“Stick to facebook babe.”

-> even with things like his email, you noticed that he was using @yahoo.com

“Who uses yahoo email?!”

“Me.”

-> nevertheless, you wouldn’t trade the relationship for anything else, inheriting both a family and a man who loves you for you. Bombarding you with compliments everyday.

-> “You look absolutely stunning today babe.”

“New hair?”

“Looks great on you.”

-> Life was great, even with a man who’s 10 years older than you.

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[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 

“Parece que realmente disfruta de tus clases.”: he seems to really enjoy your classes.

“ ¿Te importa si soy mayor que tú?”: Do you mind if i’m older than you?

“Nena, ¿sabes qué es tiktok?”: Baby, what is tiktok?

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[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @dyttomori @tyneshaaa @shurisgf @milliumizoomi @sarcasticbitchsblog @armandosbabymama @thedarkworldofhananerea @amplifiedmoan @deadpool15 @wizewhispers @5tarlan7

[annwrites]

— jacaerys velaryon quotes ⊹⊱♛⊰⊹ | a call to arms

���You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?❞

❝You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?❞

❝From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part.❞

❝You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench.❞

❝You are being too gentle with her—too patient—she requires a firmer hand, elsewise she will never properly learn.❞

❝Just as soon as you can give such commands in High Valyrian, I shall consider. Now, do as you are told.❞

❝Is this what it's going to take, then?❞ (...) ❝Me manipulating you like a ventriloquist does its doll to get you to do what I need you to?❞

❝Rȳbās,❞ he then says with a smug look. ❝It means obey.❞

❝You've silver hair, purple eyes, pale skin. Men would pay handsomely to pretend at having a Targaryen princess or lady for an hour or two, would they not?❞

❝Everything to do with you concerns me!❞

❝I do not answer to you, but you will to me: your superior. Now.❞

❝You will address me properly, and you will hold your tongue. You speak only when spoken to, is that understood?❞

❝If you ever raise a hand to me again,❞ (...) ❝I will take it. What you just did is treason.❞

❝Go on, then. Try me. See how far I let you get after such a stunt. You think me weak? Easy to strong-arm?❞

❝I doubt it. You've no idea who you're testing. I am your future king,❞ he spits. ❝And you will obey me, you little bitch.❞

❝You think your comely looks make you special? Think they're all you need, so as to easily fool and take advantage of men? To get your way?❞

❝There is a screen, and I hardly intend to look. Now, do as your prince commands.❞

❝I won't allow any harm to befall you, you have my word, Y/N! As long as you are with me, you are safe!❞

❝Do you think she enjoys being trapped in here all hours of the day? Do you know how long it's been since someone has ridden her? Let her show you the skies. Allow her that privilege.❞

❝I want us to experience this together.❞

❝It is possible,❞ (...) ❝To change your mind about that which you think you want. If you only consider other options.❞

❝Gods, you're fucking impossible, aren't you?❞

❝Teach me how to please you. Allow me to show you how truly sorry I am in this...other way.❞

❝I have taught you much these last few days. It is time, mayhaps, you return the favor.❞

❝Allow me to please you.❞

❝You have me on my knees. Begging you to allow me to pleasure you. You need more reassurance that you have me at your mercy now?❞

❝I would use my mouth, Y/N, if it please you.❞

❝I know what I want. And I know that it is you. Here. Now. Will you not allow me this most singular indulgence?❞

❝May I untie my breeches, My Lady?❞

❝Gods,❞ he mutters against your mound. ❝You're so beautiful. Mm, and delicious.❞

❝I did not need even touch myself to finish at your hand.❞

❝In truth, I would very much like…❞ (...) ❝For us to begin sharing all our meals together. To walk together, when you choose to on the beach. To ride together.❞

❝But I do not burn for her. Not as I do you. You fill my every waking fucking thought now. All I wish is to be near to you. To touch you. To hear your voice.❞

❝Was it fair to her when I had my face shoved between your thighs as you finished upon my tongue?❞

❝I don’t want to lose you,❞ he whispers. ❝When I’ve only just found you. When I am with you, I don’t feel so afraid anymore. Please…please don’t take yourself from me. Please.❞

❝We’ve fondness, but a fire does not rage within me when I’m near her as it does for you. A fire I am desperate to keep fanning the flames of. Because if it were to burn out—now—I know not what I would do.❞

❝When I am with you, I feel fearless. Not a coddled princeling. Not some royal betrothed where everything must be prim and proper. I feel… I feel alive. I have the attentions of a woman grown, and I would be remiss to shirk them out of the sake of propriety.❞

❝It is why I ask you—if you can find it within yourself to consent—to let me have you, at least in private. Let us live while there is still time for it.❞

❝I mean for us to share more than just meals and walks together, you know?❞ (...) ❝Such as my bed, and yours. Perhaps baths. The rug before my hearth. The dining table chairs. The windowsill. My settee…❞

❝Only for you, my little dragonseed,❞ he replies, kissing you tenderly. ❝You see: I can be quite generous.❞

❝I deign we shall need moontea in large supply.❞

❝If you wish to quiet my tongue, you will need to find other uses for it, then, my sweet.❞

❝I want you…to be the first.❞

❝I want for you to… Tell me what to do. Use me for your pleasure. Please.❞

❝Command me.❞

❝Gods, I want to touch you.❞

❝Yes, mistress.❞

❝Let me instead. Please, I beg of you. Let me tend to your needs.❞

❝Do I have your permission?❞

❝Thank you, Y/N. For making my first…❞ He trails off for a moment. ❝For being my first, and for making it perfect.❞

❝I wish to be inside of you.❞

❝Do whatever you need, My Lady. Manipulate me how you must to pleasure yourself.❞ (...) ❝I am at your complete disposal.❞

❝I want to be sore and wanting for you, but not be allowed to do more than watch.❞

❝Please, my darling love, please let me tend to you.❞

❝I think I’d like to spill myself inside of you. Then clean the mess I’ve made after.❞

❝I know. It’s wretched. The things I beg for from you. But you’ve at me at your utter mercy.❞

❝I exist now to serve you in whatever way may please you.❞

❝I know. I’m unworthy, aren’t I? Of having you, my lady.❞

❝The Gods brought us together.❞

❝You lighten the load.❞

❝I love you.❞

❝I would not be here at all, were it not for you.❞

❝I burned how many ships, all because one dared launch a scorpion bolt at you? And just like you, it felt like the right thing to do, because I was protecting that which I love.❞

❝Let us be together—the way we are meant to be.❞

❝I’m begging you. You’re all I want. I can’t do it without you.❞

❝You’ve changed everything, and for the better. I love you.❞

[manikas-whims]

how Xavier from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..

Xavier realizes its the first time you haven't arrived at work on time. It concerns him deeply and he decides to call you on the phone.

You pick up the phone from the nightstand, receive the call and speak groggily due to the ache in your limbs.

“Xa..vier? What is it?”

On the other end, his eyes narrow in concern. “You don’t sound alright.”

“Ohhh its just..my stomach and thighs ache.. especially thighs..” Your eyes are watery as you speak. All this ache is making it harder for you to even have a simple phone conversation.

“But I'm okay..its just that time of the month, you know!” You attempt to make your best imitation of a chuckle to ensure everything is good.

Yet the line has already been disconnected.

At the workspace, Jenna watches Xavier already pulling on his white leather jacket and running out of the building.

[minutes later]

You hear your phone buzz again. Without even bothering to check the caller ID, you answer it with slight annoyance. “Who’s speaking!?”

The voice on the other end is familiar and calm as ever. Not reacting negatively to your words, Xavier says. “It’s me. I'm here at your place. Do you think you can open the door?”

You know he's only trying to be kind but you grumble anyways. You can't help it. “Xavier I’m not that weak! No girl is!”

You don't bother changing clothes and remain in your oversized shirt as it's more comfortable that way. And with little difficulty and a lot of ache in your body, you open the door to prove your point, staring up at him with your weary eyes.

He simply shuts the door as he walks in and hands you a package. “I bought some pads, and heat packs for your belly. Just in case you needed extra.”

You blink slowly, all the rage ignited by your period slowly fading in the face of his honesty.

“Come on, ” He beckons, heading upstairs towards your bedroom. “Or would you prefer I carry you?”

Mortified at the idea of being treated like a little girl, you stomp after him back to your room.

There, he guides you to lay down and sits at the edge of the bed, by your legs.

“Rest. I’ll be here for you. Always.”

Usually you would've tried teasing him but you don't wanna strain your body by speaking anymore. So you simply give in to the tempting softness of the mattress and close your eyes.

A moment later, you feel something glide along your leg, all the way up to your thigh before gently yet firmly grasping it.

Your face heats up, flushing a light shade of pink as you realize they're fingers. The same long fingers which you've seen Xavier wrap around his sword during your missions together.

Now for some reason, those very same fingers are holding your thigh. You feel the muscles in your leg tensing. So does he, and looks at you.

“Xavier you— what are you doing?” You squeak out, a hand over your eyes cause its just too embarrassing to look directly at him.

His hand doesn't even budge. “I’ve heard that during menses, women's thighs ache a lot. I was just trying to give yours’ a massage.”

Then he raises a brow, a lopsided smile curving upon his lips. “What did you think I was up to?”

“Ehhh!!” You shake your head, far more embarrassed now (if that was even possible).

“Nothing! I was just shocked when you suddenly touched me.”

He nods in understanding. “Pardon me for not asking permission before touching you.”

Now you shake your head even more, the aching muscles completely forgotten due to how embarrassed you feel for even daring to imagine something naughty at such a time.

“It's okay.” You mumble softly. “And I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

He responds with a proper smile.

Then, his fingers begin pressing into your thigh, gently massaging along the entire leg.

“Now rest.” He commands and you close your eyes for there's no reason to deny his aid. You feel the tense muscles in your legs gradually relaxing, his care lulling you into a state of slumber.

And just as you feel sleep blessing your form, you mumble. “Xavier?”

“Mm?” He replies.

“Thanks for this. And for coming to see me.”

“No problem.”

Its been a while since I wrote any Character x Reader HCs so please bear with my errors. i love feedback so don't hesitate!

AND THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

Rafayel and Zayne version coming soon!

» MASTERLIST «

[strangelysamantha]

heart to heart ❀

steve harrington x fem!reader.

warnings: mention of being drugged, but otherwise pure fluff.

words: 987.

summary: at the starcourt mall bathroom, you and steve have a heart to heart.

request? no

a/n: it won’t let me insert links anymore and i’m very upset about it. but i’m happy to be writing again so i guess i have that going for me! can’t wait to produce a bunch of stranger things content.

my masterlist

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you lay on the floor of the bathroom, your back slouched against the wall. your head wasn’t spinning as bad so that was good, but now the spiral to sobriety made your mind rush with thoughts. the starcourt mall had harsh lights, and you struggled to stick with any thoughts, overwhelmed by the torture you had barely escaped from. steve harrington was quiet in the stall next to you. a groan emitting from your lips. “are you okay steve?” you find the courage to question. you were nervous to break the silence, but if you had to endure it any longer you would explode. he hesitates, “yeah, i think uh,” he waits, “i think im alright.” you nod, although he’s unable to acknowledge it. “how about you? are you okay over there?” you stay quiet, unsure how to answer. “hello?” there’s worry in his voice, and he doesn’t wait to slide under the stall door to comfort you.

you grimace at him, “do you realize how gross the bathroom floor is?” you crack a smile, amused. he shrugs, “after all that fighting today, i already needed to wash the uniform, what difference will it make?” the two of you break out into laughter, “maybe it’s not fully out of our system yet.” this makes you laugh even harder. you take a moment to catch your breath. “steve?” he hums in response, “i’m glad i was with you in the battle against the russians.” he makes eye contact with you, “true, i’m pretty badass aren’t i?” you bite your lip nervously, “yes but you did deal with alot though.” he looks away, “i just want you to know im here for you. i mean what else can we go through that’s going to top breaking into a hidden russian lair?”

“i hope nothing… but this town is crawling with bad people. you can’t ever be safe.” his demeanor hurts, the pitiful comment causes your heart to sting. “yeah that’s what scares me.” you admit. “we’ll get through it together okay? we’re a good team.” you nod at his reassuring words, “let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” you collect your thoughts, “it’s funny to think that just last week we scooped ice cream for a living, and then we almost died.” steve smirks, “it’s quite the story to tell though.”

“don’t you miss high school? the only worry we had was about homework due dates, and trying not to fall asleep during lectures?” he reminisces, “it was easier, but time moves forward, and you get hardships thrown your way. i don’t know where i’ll be in a few years.” he continues, “it’s hard to think about the future, when the present is not enjoyable.” “i know, we should be out having fun, not worried about our hometown being invaded.” saying the words made the situation real, and the idea of your future was unimaginable. “do you still love nancy?” you question. he sighs, “yes, and no.” he thinks about it, you can tell by his face. “i miss what we had, the love was real, but time passed. we both grew into ourselves; there’s no point in ruining that growth.” his stance caught you by surprise, but you appreciated his honesty. “i had a first love too. it was different; it was a love that consumed me, but i lost who i was in the process. it’s hard to go back to someone when you know it didn’t work out for a reason.” he silently agrees, “have you moved on?” he asks. “yes, and no.” you giggle, “i’ve moved on, but sometimes i long for it. it was safe, predictable, but i know in my heart that things will work out for me.” steve’s eyes lock with yours.

you can’t read what he’s feeling, you’re filled with nerves. “i like you steve.” his lips curved, “you do?” you laugh slightly, “of course i do steve. you saved my life today. you make working at scoops ahoy fun. you’re playful, and witty. you treat me with so much kindness. and maybe i’m misreading this thing between us.” you back peddled slightly, worried you might have overstepped. “i like you too, today you brought out a side of me, one i hadn’t seen in awhile. you gave me hope, a reason.” you stomach fills with butterflies as his gaze lingers over you. you scooch forward, placing your hand over his. “steve, i really-.” unfortunately dustin and erica barge into the bathroom, before he rolls his eyes. “okay… what the hell?” steve and you glance at each other before returning your eyes to dustin. together you both emit into hysterical laughter at dustin’s comment. “get up we have to go.” he urges you up and rushes you to the door, erica’s face is stern and her hand is on her hip as she impatiently waited for you two to stand up. the four of you leave the bathroom, determined to escape the mall. you stay back, letting erica and dustin lead the way. you glance over at steve, your hand instinctively reaching for his as the nerves wash over you. he happily holds it, he looks over to you, his teeth bright. “you make me really happy.” he squeezes your hand. “you make me really happy too steve.” he chuckles slightly. “maybe after we escape, i can take you on a date?” a rose tint lifted to your cheeks as shyness crept up. “yes please.” the two of you continue to hold hands as you hurriedly tried to blend in with the crowd of people leaving the theater; however you see men in all black, guarding the exit. dustin tells you guys to abort and to turn around, and you frantically run to the lower level. fear was instilled inside you, however; with steve by your side you felt confident that you would make it to your guys first date.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[awritessomething]

Don’t know if you take requests but I really want a fic with Pierre where y/n is a presenter for Sky Sports or something and they start having an affair. Maybe they sleep together after his podium when his gf isn’t in the paddock and then it starts to become and regular occurrence

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 | pierre gasly x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Pierre’s girlfriend manages to not be in the paddock for his podium. Someone else steps in to do what she should’ve done.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, cheating, swearing, protected sex, straight to the point, dom!pierre, sub!reader, doggystyle, slight degrading, missionary, oral m!receiving, hair pulling, no aftercare.

also yes I do take requests ty for leaving one 🫶

After a long and treacherous race in Zandvoort, Pierre managed to snag third place by 3 seconds. The Alpine team was going insane over his podium as it was the second Alpine podium of the season. He got out of the car as soon as he was free to do so and ran over to his team who were all there to congratulate him.

There wasnt much time between the moment he got out of his car and before the interview that he was about to have to do. There was a younger woman with Sky Sports who was there to work with him. Walking up to him with a smile on her face, she motioned for her cameraman to follow. Pierre turned to her and walked forwards to meet her halfway.

“Good afternoon, Pierre. It was a good race, right?” She asked with a smile. His eyes swept over her quickly, so quickly that it probably wasn’t even all that noticeable to anyone except for her.

“Yes, I mean third is always a good way to end so uh… I’m happy.” Pierre answered with a quick nod. Her eyes narrowed on him for a moment.

“That’s great. Can you tell us a bit about what you had to do?”

“Yeah.” Pierre licked his lips before telling her a bit about what had happened during the race and what he was thinking. She tilted her head slightly as she listened to him talking. Pierre stuttered for a second as he saw how she looked at him.

“Thank you. Congratulations by the way.” They finished up the interview. She glanced back at her cameraman to confirm that they weren’t filming anymore. He nodded and started to walk a bit away to give her some space.

“Did you like the race?” Pierre asked a bit more boldly now that the cameras were away.

“I did. You’re an impressive driver.” She whispered and swayed slightly.

“Thank you.” Pierre kept his voice quiet as well. They both had the same kind of idea as to what they might be doing.

“Of course. So, are you sticking around in Zandvoort for a while longer?”

“Ah, not too much longer. My girlfriend is waiting for me at home I believe.” Her brows raised, feigning surprise. She acted as if she didn’t know that Kika wasn’t there.

“She’s not here tonight?” She tried her best to sound shocked to try and fool Pierre into thinking that she didn’t arrive with these intentions.

“She is not.” He fell for what she was doing for just a moment but then he put it together.

“Too bad.” She tsked softly. “You know, if I was her, I wouldn’t miss a single race. I would want to be there for everything.” She said, shrugging. Pierre raised his brow and smirked.

“Would you be able to?” Pierre was a bit intrigued by this idea. She was a bit surprised that he was actually going along with what she was saying, but she surely wouldn’t be complaining.

“My job is to follow the races. I’m at almost all of them. It would be no problem.” She smiled up at him, a look in his eyes that he could recognize in pretty much any woman. He cleared his throat as someone called his name to go and do his other post-race duties.

“I’ve got to go.” Pierre turned to leave.

“Wait.” She called out. He turned to see her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card. “If you think of anything else that i might want to hear about… call me.” She handed it to him. He glanced down at it and then back at her.

“I will. See you.” Pierre held onto the card and then walked away. She watched him go before running off to go and do other interviews with other drivers.

Later that night, around nine at night or so, she was laying in her bed at her hotel. She was on her phone, just scrolling through her phone and occasionally texting a friend or two. There was a call that showed up on her screen from an unknown number. She picked up the phone and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked, a bit confused as to who would have her number.

“Room 321. Be there in five minutes.” Pierre spoke into the phone. She recognized his voice.

“Ill be there.” That was all she said and then hung up the phone. Everyone with Formula 1 was staying in one hotel. Every team, every media person, they were all in that hotel. Most of the drivers were out partying, but apparently Pierre wasn’t.

She got out of bed, slipped on her shoes and a jacket, and then walked out of her room. She put her hood over her head to hide her face and made her way to room 321. Five minutes later, she was there. Before she could even knock on the door, it was opening and she was being pulled inside.

“Anyone see you?” Pierre asked as he locked the door. She shook her head.

“No. No one.” She breathed out and looked up at Pierre with wide eyes.

“Good.” He muttered and then leaned forwards and kissed her. His stubble was rough against her face but she welcomed the sting. Her hands flew to his hair as he shoved her against the door, already reaching for the bottom of her shirt. “Jump.” He grumbled against her lips and tapped on her thighs. She did as he said and he caught her, holding her by her thighs. Her head fell back as he kissed her neck before tugging off her shirt and unclasping her bra.

“Pierre…” She moaned his name as he nibbled on the sensitive parts of her neck. Her back arched off of the door, chest pressing against his.

“Mhm..?” He hummed, not even pulling away from her for a moment as his lips moved to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She whined and her head fell to the side.

“Condom?”

“In my wallet. I’ll get it in a minute.” He sighed and then took her off of the door and carried her over to his bed. She laid on the bed and tugged off her pants and panties, watching as he took off his own shirt while getting the condom from his wallet.

“You were ready for this?” She teased him lightly. Pierre scoffed.

“You never know.” He smiled and went to take off his belt. She shook her head and moved forwards so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands went to his belt and she removed it for him, throwing it aside as she pushed down his pants. He stepped out of them, along with his boxers. His breath hitched as he watched her take the condom from his hands and then set it aside.

“Think you can wait for a minute?” She asked, looking up at him. Pierre shrugged. One of her hands went to his cock, stroking him a few times experimentally. His head fell back as he groaned.

He stood in front of her, hands resting on the back of her head as she took him into her mouth. Her eyes met his as she swirled her tongue around his tip before beginning to suck him off. His brows knit together as he closed his eyes. Pierre hadn’t had another woman touch him ever since he started dating his girlfriend. He forgot how good foreign touch could feel.

His hips thrusted towards her mouth and she closed her eyes as tears pricked at the corners of them. He held her head still as he began to fuck her mouth, head falling back as he did. She listened to the sounds that came from the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat repeatedly. Her nose pressed against his abdomen as he pushed her head down as far as it could go.

With just a few more quick thrusts into her mouth, his cum spurted down her throat. She had her hands holding onto his thighs to stabilize herself as she swallowed around his cock, making him grunt from the odd sensation. Pierre pulled out of her mouth and looked down at her as she coughed.

“You swallow?” Pierre gripped her jaw and made her open her mouth. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. “That’s what I thought.” He gave her cheek a gentle smack as she smiled up at him. He reached down and picked up the condom from beside where she was sitting and ripped the package open. She watched with interest in her eyes as he slid the rubber onto his cock.

He pushed her back onto the bed and then positioned himself over her. He knew he couldn’t really just ram into her, so he reached between their bodies and circled his fingers over her clit for a moment to just make sure she was ready. She gasped as she felt his tip press up against her entrance. Pierre looked into her eyes for a moment but then just decided to watch as he bullied his cock into her hole. A choked moan left her lips as she was almost about to run her hands down his back. He shook his head and pinned her wrists to the bed.

“There can’t be any proof that we did this.” He hissed. She nodded and any other thoughts left her mind as he started to slowly thrust into her. Each drag of his cock inside of her was perfect. Her walls were tight around him, molding to fit his cock perfectly. She could feel each vein, each little part of him.

Pierre pulled his hips back so he was almost pulling out of her completely, and then ramming back into her with more force until he was sure that she was ready. His hands gripped onto her hips as he leaned back. He pulled her hips flush against his. She shuddered.

His thrusts were rough and there was absolutely no sort of romanticism or friendliness in their actions. Just pure lust. Pierre had obviously done this before. The kisses that he had left on her neck had been rough, but not enough to leave any marks whatsoever. The grip he had on her hips was tight, but it was just borderline bruising. He knew how to do it just right. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

Pierre grunted with almost every thrust as he watched it knock the air from her. Her moans were muffled with one of his hands moving to cover her mouth. He wasn’t leaving any chances of them being caught and she wasn’t complaining. If anyone found out that they were having sex, both of their reputations would be destroyed. She would probably lose her job too.

They both knew the risks, but neither seemed to care as they fucked like animals in the hotel room. It must’ve been around 10 at night before the other drivers began to even start returning to the hotel. They were still going at it. His eyes met hers as he fucked himself into her still. She had lost count of how many times he had pushed her over the edge at this point. The only thing that she could see anymore was his muscles flexing in the dark room. The lights were off so that if anyone did manage to come inside, they wouldn’t be able to see what was happening.

Somehow, Pierre hadn’t managed to cum once. His stamina was evident from the long time they were able to go at it. Her cheeks were damp from the tears that had spilled from her eyes. As she was able to notice his thrusts getting a bit messier, she realized that he was nearing his climax as well.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He groaned out as his hips snapped into hers. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably around his waist. Her eyes met his again in the dark room. Pierre watched how her eyes seemed to widen slightly with each thrust, but then narrowed every time he was pulling back.

With a few more thrusts of his hips against hers, their skin met for the first time in a while. He came into the condom, she could feel the warmth inside of her. She fell over the edge for the final time that night. Pierre continued to buck forwards for a few seconds longer until they had both ridden out their orgasms.

Pierre pulled out of her and reached down, taking off the condom and tying it off before throwing it out. She watched as he did this and then walked across the room to put on a shirt and a pair of sweats. She sat up, catching her breath and running a hand through her hair. Standing up, she walked into the washroom to fix up her appearance. Pierre could be heard rummaging around in the room, opening the door to the balcony to let in some fresh air.

“See you at your next race, Pierre.” She said her goodbyes as she slipped on her clothes again. He nodded at her and then she left the room, heading back to her own.

That was how it all started.

After nearly every race for the rest of the season, they would end up in each others hotel rooms. If Kika wasn’t there, she was in his room. If she was there, he was in hers. It didn’t seem to matter anymore whether she was there or not, they were just always finding a way to be with each other.

After the final race in Abu Dhabi, Pierre found himself standing in front of her again. She had the microphone held up to him.

“Nice to see you again, Pierre. What did you think of the outcome of this last race?” She smiled at him as if their relationship was purely professional. They both hid what happened behind closed doors behind an innocent facade.

“Its not what I had hoped for, but it was a fine race. I’m excited for next season.” Pierre answered, leaning forwards slightly so he was a bit closer to the microphone.

“Of course. Are we expecting a great season from you, Mr. Gasly?” She asked, holding eye contact with him. He nodded.

“It will be a great season for all of us, yes.” He tried his best to sound humble. She laughed quietly at this.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She snickered. “I suppose I’ll see you next year. Congratulations.” The camera shut off and she turned to confirm it. The cameraman nodded as per usual and began to walk off. She raised a brow to silently confirm their plans for later on. He nodded. He walked away.

As expected, that night she found herself in his hotel room. She wasn’t too sure where Kika was, but that wasn’t her biggest worry. According to Pierre, she would be out for pretty much the whole night partying with the other WAGs.

Her face was pushed down into a pillow, muffling her screams as she gripped onto the sheets too. Pierre’s hands gripped onto her hips, pulling her to meet each thrust. He was not too happy with getting 13th on the final race of the season. She could feel that.

Pierre rammed into her from behind, gripping roughly onto her ass, watching how it moved as his hips snapped against it. One hand left her ass to move up her back and to her neck.

“Think you’re gonna be able to stay quiet?” He grunted into her ear as his hand moved into her hair, pulling it back. Her back arched and her eyes rolled back, lip trapped under her teeth. “I’m expecting an answer.” He growled.

“I- can stay quiet.” She choked out quietly. Her chest squeezed as she was fighting back her moans. Pierre nodded. His other hand also left her ass to clamp down over her mouth.

“Dont believe you.” He hummed against her neck. She was pulled back so she was pretty much sitting up straight as he fucked into her. His tip slammed up against her G-spot with nearly every thrust. Her clit throbbed and she sobbed into his hand.

If he was to let go of her hair, she was sure to collapse. That was just what he did. He released his grip on her hair and watched as she fell back onto her face, burying her face into the pillow again. His hand slipped underneath her to rub at her clit.

During their second or third time meeting up at night, Pierre had discovered that he took more pleasure in fucking her than with Kika. He wasn’t sure if it was from the roughness of which they had sex or whether it was the adrenaline that pumped through his veins from the thought of being caught, but something made it better.

His mind when he was fucking his girlfriend often just drifted back to her. He wondered how she might act.

His eyes were locked on the small of her back, watching how it twitched occasionally as he hit her g-spot. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was holding onto the sheets. He was worried for a moment that she may rip them. He didn’t know what he would do about that.

Pierre knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer this time. His stamina had seemed to go down over the last while. He could hardly contain himself with her.

As per usual, his thrusts got sloppier and he lost his rhythm. She could feel as he came into the condom once again. She moaned in satisfaction as it pushed her over the edge once more. After a moment of both of them riding out their highs, he pulled out of her again.

“Ill see you in a few months?” She asked as she got off of the bed, stumbling for a moment. Pierre touched her waist to help stabilize her. He didn’t need her getting hurt right then.

“I sure hope so.” Pierre muttered and then passed her the shirt that was now on the ground. She took it from him and slipped it on.

“Bye, Pierre.” She gave him a quick pat on the arm and then pulled on her pants before walking out of the door.

How was he supposed to go months without that?

[thrillered]

"You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnew x Reader | Pt. 8

Pt. 8: Confessions

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“I just can’t keep doing this.” Spencer said, removing his hand from yours and adjusting his position to look at you more directly. 

“What?”

Your mind was reeling. Spencer's tone shifted from playful to serious very quickly. Your stomach flipped, a pit of anxiety settling in your stomach. Did Spencer do all this nice stuff today just to let you down easy and send you away? Were you really stupid and Spencer didn’t even like you platonically? 

Okay, you were spiraling. 

Spencer was your best friend and you were his, there was no argument about that. You were just high and stressed. 

“I just don’t know what to do anymore Y/N.” He looked at you, his eyes full of anxiety. “You are so wonderful and talented and smart and..” He began to ramble, unsure where he was going with this thought. “You- you just make me really happy and if I don’t tell you this soon.. Well- I might actually implode.”

“Okay hold on, what are you talking about?” You asked, trying to stop his babbling. As nervous as you were, you couldn’t help but think he looked adorable. The way his hair splayed over his forehead, his hands wringing together as his eyes darted around the room, finally landing on yours. Even as your heart dropped through your ass you thought Spencer was so uniquely him. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m so into you Y/N,” He sighed, finally revealing the feelings he's been harboring for years. “I’ve always told you I loved you but you have no idea how much I mean it.” 

You were stopped in your tracks, not fully comprehending his words. “W-What?” You asked again.

“Maybe this is stupid and maybe Alex got in my head but I don’t think I could go another day without telling you, especially with everything going on.” 

“Do you mean it?” You asked, your voice small.

“With all of my being.” He responded, grabbing your hands with both of his. 

“You know I love you too Spencer, more than anything.” His heart was soaring at your words, feeling fireworks erupting within him. “But… I need this to be real. If for some reason it’s not and you’re just high…” You shook your head.

“I promise this isn’t a lie.” 

“Then tell me again in the morning, tell me you love me when you’re sober,” You compromised, “I’m not going anywhere tonight but just please tell me in the morning if you're serious.” 

“Okay, I will. You won’t be able to doubt it, I swear.” 

You smiled at him, “So what now?” You asked.

Spencer glanced at the clock, seeing it was already past midnight. You both had work in the morning and should probably head to bed soon. 

“We should head to sleep. But first, there’s just one thing I really really need to do.” Spencer said, running his hands up your arms and shoulders to rest where your neck met your face. “You look so beautiful.” He muttered, observing you in the soft moonlight that shone through his living room window, dragging his eyes down your face and landing on your lips. 

You glanced down to his as well, watching as his tongue poked out to wet the corners of his mouth before connecting your eyes again. “Can I please kiss you?” He asked, his voice soft and gentle. 

You tried to memorize this moment, the smell of his home mixed with the candle he lit for you, the ways his eyes twinkled in the dim light, and the feeling of his firm hands against your skin. 

You didn’t realize how long you were taking to answer as you tried committing everything to memory. Spencer's stomach doing flips as he braces for a rejection that never comes. “God Spencer please.” You grinned widely.

He pulled your face the few inches to his and softly placed his lips on yours, testing the waters. All either of you could think about was how perfectly your lips slotted together, like they were always made for each other. 

It wasn’t a feverish kiss, there were no gnashing teeth, just so much love. It was soft but firm, able to communicate all the words you couldn’t say. You tasted like chapstick and citrus soda, a taste Spencer found both intoxicating and suited you. 

One of his hands moved to the back of your head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you down so you were almost laying on the couch, his warm body above you. “Is this okay?” He asked, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You didn’t even answer, just pulled him back in by his shirt. He laughed into the kiss, shocked at the movement. He could feel your sly smile against his lips. You both relished in the moment, the air feeling thick with passion. 

Your hand had looped into Spencer’s hair which you loved so much. Spencer’s hand that was at your waist began to slide under your (his) shirt, just brushing his fingertips against the warm skin of your waist when one of Spencer's cats knocked a, luckily, empty bowl off the coffee table, scaring you both out of the kiss. 

You both laughed upon seeing a furry tail swiftly moving out of the living room. “It’s really late, let’s head to bed, yeah?” You asked not wanting to spoil such a perfect night by doing anything too forward too quickly. 

“Yeah, let’s head to bed.” Spencer repeated your words, kissing your cheek before standing up and offering you his hand. You took it gladly and slowly stood up. Even when you were standing you didn’t let go of Spencer’s hand, which he took the opportunity to pull you into him and kiss you softly again. 

“As much as I would love to keep going,” You pulled away, “We need to clean these dishes up and go to sleep, Spence.” 

He almost pouted, knowing you were right but being unsure this would ever happen again. You gave him a smile and began to clean up. There were only a few things that needed to be picked up so you were done before you knew it. 

Walking to Spencer’s room you noticed he also changed his sheets, ever the gentleman. You both climbed into bed, already wearing comfy enough clothes. “Goodnight Spencey.” You muttered, pulling the comforter around you. 

“Goodnight Y/N” 

Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. What if you were just high and stressed and thought this would be fun tonight and you would never speak to him again. You rolled over and slotted yourself against Spencer, resting your head near his, “I can feel you worrying, just go to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning. I love you.” You reassured. 

Feeling your warmth against his side and your sweet words in his ear was enough to calm his mind. He pulled you in a little closer and rested his head against yours, placing a soft kiss to your hairline, “I love you too.” 

[creamsickle-writes]

Forbidden Fruit: Shanks x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, Modern!AU, AGE GAPS (at one point he mentions he's old enough to be reader's dad), mentions of creampies/breeding, dirty talk, daddy kink, sex toys, and phone sex

Thank you @aces-sweetheart for making this post which inspired me to write this fic!

Click here for part two!

You were desperate.

After looking for a boyfriend for so long, you were getting frustrated. Boys at your college seemed dull to you, and online dating was a total bust; finding companionship seemed impossible for you.

You wanted something romantic, sure, but right now, you needed something more sexual. You hadn’t been laid in god knows how long, and the sexual energy within you had reached its bursting point.

You thought to yourself as you lay in bed; you could’ve used one of your many toys to get you off, but that was growing old. You wanted someone to be there with you.

You chewed at your lip, trying to decide what to do with your frustrated self.

Until an idea popped into your mind.

Maybe you didn’t have a companion, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t buy some services to replicate the experience.

Immediately you perked up and began searching for online cams and various male voice-over actors you could listen to. 

But after looking at those, you decided that wasn’t quite right either…

That’s when you see a targeted ad about a phone sex hotline. You raised your brows; you had never considered doing something like that before… but the more you thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

You clicked the number on the search engine page without even thinking it through.

You almost hang up, but you’re greeted by an automated voice.

“Welcome!” It cheerily rings, “You have reached The New World Chat Line! Please select one if you are interested in women, two of you are interested in men.”

You debate hanging up right then, but with shaky fingers, you select ‘two.’

The silence is loud, but eventually, you hear that automated voice again.

“Please select one of our many male operators to chat with!”

The phone begins repeating back various profiles that the men had recorded themselves. There were many different guys, each with their own list of kinks and physical descriptions. You chewed your lip as you listened; some were interesting but not enough to get you to bite the bullet.

That is, until you hear a deep, raspy voice. 

“Hey there,” It starts, “You can call me Akagami. Uh, let’s see, I’ve got red hair, and I’m a little over six foot… I think I’m around six foot six?”

Your eyes bulged; he considered that “a little” over?

“I’m looking for sweet girls that like to play with older men. Real innocent, cute types are perfect for my style of play. I want to guide a girl, teach her everything from how to squirt to how to please me-“

You don’t need to hear anymore. You want this guy now.

Pressing ‘one’ on impulse, the phone begins to ring.

It doesn’t take long before there’s an answer.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he says it with a familiarity that causes your body to heat up.

“U-Uh, hi-“ you want to smack yourself as your voice comes out way too squeaky and high-pitched.

He laughs on the other end, but you can tell it’s all in good fun, not out of malice.

“And how are you doing today, princess?”

“Uhm,” you pick at the hem of your shirt as you lay on your back, “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I wanted to talk to someone…”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Is that right? So you decided to talk to me? I’m flattered.”

“Mhm…” you trail off, not sure how to get the ball rolling. 

But fortunately for you, he’s a natural. 

“Honey, you sound a bit young,” he starts, “How old are you?”

“O-Old enough!”

He chuckles, “So you’re a younger girl.”

Your face burns bright red. Were you seriously so obvious that he could read you so easily? 

“Hm, don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me.” He purrs it into the phone, and your body shivers at his tone, “Is this your first time calling for this kind of thing?”

“Um, yeah…”

He chuckles lowly, and your heart skips a beat, “Don’t worry, we can talk about anything you want. It can get sexy, it can get sad, hell, you could just tell me about your day; I’m all ears.”

You smile a bit at his words, your nerves starting to disappear. 

“Well, I called because, like I said, I’m kinda lonely…” you pause as you debate what you want to say, “I’ve been trying to find a boyfriend but no luck…”

You hear him “aww” as he listens, and you talk a bit about your dating struggles, how college has been challenging, and how you’re up to your limit with how sexually frustrated you are. 

“Things can be rough at your age. I remember I had a hard time when I was in college…”

“How old are you?” You chirp up, and he laughs. 

“Curious? I’m 40 now.”

You hummed, “You’re old enough to be my dad.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “I kind of figured that.”

“It’s kinda…” you swallow, unsure how to finish your sentence without dying of shame. 

“Kinda what?” He pushes, and you can practically hear his smirk, “Go ahead.”

Your core lit up at his words, “Even though you’re almost twice my age- no because you’re almost twice my age… it’s really getting me worked up.”

He growls, “Yeah? You like fantasizing about older guys?”

“I-I do-” you whimper, “My dad has a friend… I’ve always found him attractive…”

“Sounds like you’ve always had a thing for older men.”

“Always.”

He groans at that, “Dirty little girl… don’t you know it’s girls like you that make things so tempting for guys like me? We want to take advantage of cute things like you who have no idea what you’re getting into…”

You bite your lip, “But I want you to take advantage of me.”

“Fuck-” he hisses, “Alright, I don’t know if I can take the idle conversation anymore, princess. You’re making me so hard right now.”

You swallow, working up the courage to make the first move, “Can you tell me how hard you are? Please?”

Your core flutters at the grunt that comes from the other end of the line.

“It’s getting really hard, baby. My pants feel so tight right now just listening to your sweet voice say such dirty things.”

He groans, and your ears perk up at the sound of fabric shuffling in the background. Your heartbeat accelerated at the action.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve any discomfort that grew between your legs at his words.

And with that, there’s a click from the phone. 

“Hello?”

“To continue, please enter payment information.”

Shit. Your free minutes ran out. 

You scrambled to grab your wallet on the bedside table and fished out your card. Quickly, you punch in your credit card info before the phone rings again. 

A warm chuckle greets you, “Did I lose you?”

“Yeah-“ you sigh, “I needed to enter some card info.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “I see… don’t worry, I kept your seat nice and warm for you~”

“Thank you,” you laugh, “I appreciate it.”

“Yknow,” he starts, “I bet a slutty little thing like you has a bunch of toys to play with. Why don’t you take one from your collection and use it?”

“O-Okay.”

You whine as you remove your hand from your cunt and get out of bed, pulling out a box from underneath it. You pull out your favorite clitoral vibrator and a basic dildo. You describe to Akagami the toys you’ve chosen.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Try easing that dildo inside first…”

As you lay on your back, you spread your legs, teasing your hole with the silicone tip. You whimper softly before pushing in and gasping at the intrusion. You’re plenty wet, so the toy slides right in, bottoming out to the suction cup base. 

“I-It’s in- “

“Good, good.” He hums. “Turn on the vibrator now. Make sure it’s on the lowest setting, alright?”

You adjust so that you’re holding the phone between your shoulder and cheek, your dominant hand turning on the vibrator and placing it on your clit. Even though it was only on the first setting, the buzzing made you jump. 

“God, I can just imagine your flustered body writhing…” he laughs, “You said you’re in college, right? Don’t you have roommates you’re worried about?”

You bit your lip, “She won’t be back for a while… I think.”

“Oh? You think?” He teases, “Now you’ve got me thinking about if I was in your dorm room with you…”

“W-Wh-” you try to get your words out, “What would you do if you were here?”

“Mm,” he drawls, “first, I’d kiss my precious princess. Swipe my tongue over your lips before playing with your tongue.”

Your face grows hot, and you wonder what his tongue would taste like. Does he drink? Smoke? Your tongue darts over your lips as you ponder.

“And I’d play with your tits… squeeze them and play with your nipples that I bet are so hard right now.”

You use your free hand to pull at your nipples, which are just as stiff as the older man speculated.

“A-And then what?”

“Eager, are you?” He stifles a laugh, “I like that….”

“Just for you, Daddy.”

A silence lingers, and for a while, you’re worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable. 

But then he speaks. 

“You know, a lot of dorms have security. And even if yours doesn’t, other students will likely see us…” You press your lips together, wondering where he’s taking this, “You think they’d think I’m your father when you lead me to your room? That our relationship is innocent?”

Your eyes flutter shut as he continues, “Or do you think they’d know I’m just there to use your younger body? That I’m just a perverted old man fucking a college girl?”

“I-I-“you stutter, tossing your head back, “I don’t know-“

“Turn up your toy, princess. Let Daddy hear your moans.”

You obey his command immediately as if he’s placed a spell on you. Your finger clicks the button on your toy again, making the vibrations grow stronger. 

“Oh, Daddy-” you sharply gasp, “I need your cock- how big is it? Tell me-“

“Around eight inches when I’m this hard, princess.”

Your mouth watered.

“Never had a dick that big in me before…”

He chuckles, “No?”

“It’s probably too big-“

“Daddy will make it fit.”

You moan openly, your cunt squeezing the dildo inside you at his words. Even though he didn’t give you permission, you turned the toy up one more notch. You bit your lip, knowing you’d get in trouble if he found out. Over the sound of your toy, you hear wet noises coming from his end.

“Would you let Daddy fuck you raw, princess?” He grunts, “Would you let him creampie your little pussy?”

“Yes-“you breathlessly gasp, “Y-Yes, I want it-“

“Mm,” he moans, “You answered that quickly. You could get knocked up, you know.”

As you approach the edge, your breathing goes shallow, “Don’t care, just need you to claim me. I need you to own me-!”

“Fuck-“he draws it out, “I’m gonna make it so you only want Daddy’s dick. None of those little boys at school will be able to compete.”

You whimper and arch your back as your toy happily buzzes away, stimulating you in all the right ways. Your clit throbs and pulses as the toy surrounds it, and your insides tighten around the other toy. 

“I’m so close-“

“That’s good; turn up your toy one more notch.”

“I-I can’t-“

He hums, “A toy that only has two settings? That doesn’t sound right… did you turn it up without permission?”

Your voice trembles, and your legs shake, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Naughty thing,” he tsks, “I’ll allow it this time, but only because we’re both so close-“

Your eyes shut tight as the pleasure overwhelms you. As you approach the end, your legs begin to quiver, and your heart rate is off the charts. Your body tense as your feelings become too much to bear. You needed to cum.

“Daddy, I-I need to cum!” You whimper, “Please let me cum!”

“Ngh-“He grunts, “Cum for Daddy. Squirt your cum all over your cute fingers* 

Your vision goes dark as you cum. Your body seizes, and your toes curl as your back arches off the bed. Your chest heaves, and you hear a low growl from the other end of the phone, “That’s it, that’s it, princess. You sound so pretty when you cum for me.”

“Daddy,” you moan helplessly, “Cum for me too.”

Akagami’s breath grows ragged as he gets closer, “Don’t worry, princess, Daddy isn’t far behind-!”

He lets out a low groan when he cums, and you bite your lip, listening to him. After a few moments, everything grows quiet. 

“I’ll call you again Daddy. Let’s play again soon, okay?”

“Of course, baby. I would love to guide you through another orgasm.”

And with that, you hang up the phone.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Fair Few Questions

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader

In which the Reader finds out Aziraphale and Crowley are Supernatural entities and has a fair few questions for them.

Requests are: OPEN

“So… let me get this straight,” you say, “those are not coloured contacts… Zira, you’re an Angel, and Crowley is a Demon.” You blink as though it will clear the shock and confusion from your system. “And not as in cutesy pet names ‘Angels’ and ‘Demons.’ Real, biblical, Heaven and Hell ‘Angels and Demons.’” Oh, you might just faint if you weren’t careful.

Crowley sticks his bottom lip out thoughtfully for a moment, swishing his wine around in his glass. “‘Bout sums it up, yeah.” 

You let out an exasperated sound that’s not quite a word but not quite a formless sound either. Your hand comes up to rub at your forehead. A habit you’ve grown into. You were going to get wrinkles if you weren’t careful.

“I don’t- what do you mean,” you reply, frustration eating at your brain. “I have so many questions.” 

Aziraphale smiles comfortingly, patting his lap. They’re both sitting on a two seater lounge next to each other- Crowley splayed out in his usual fashion. You let out a little noise of protestion before immediately caving and going to lay across the two of them, head in Aziraphale’s lap. 

The headache immediately eases, and you wonder just how much Aziraphale had to do with it. Anything was possible, right? And now you were thinking about it, all of your aches and pains mysteriously disappeared when he was near. Odd, but suddenly making a whole lot more sense.

“Oh, my dear,” he coos, one hand coming up to play with your hair softly. “I know it’s hard to understand. Humans aren’t quite as aware of us as they used to be.” He looked to Crowley, who was downing some more of his wine ever-so-helpfully. “Crowley, love, do you remember back at the beginning- the Human’s recognised us as Angels and Demons by sight? It’s certainly not like that anymore.” 

“Mm, right,” Crowley replied, laying a hand over your legs and shifting them more comfortably for you onto his lap and not seeming a might bit bothered by the idea that humans did not recognise him by sight anymore. “You have questions, then?” 

You flustered for a moment, looking between the two of them. 

“Are you allowed to answer things?” You ask cautiously. You didn’t want to get them in trouble. Could they get in trouble?

“Uh, sure,” Crowley shrugged, setting his empty glass down on the side table. He propped his elbow on the back of the lounge so he could face towards you. 

“Is… God real?” You asked with another moments hesitation. 

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale replied, a reverent look on his face. “Most definitely, I’ve spoken with her once or twice.” 

You swallowed thickly and thought you might just move on from that line of questioning. The implications of what that meant were astronomical and way too much to focus on right now. 

“Do pets go to Heavan? Oh, please say yes.” 

Crowley chuckled and gave the outside of your thigh a comforting pat. 

“Yes, love, pets go to Heavan. I believe they have a rather nice park, too,” Aziraphale smiled, brushing his thumb between your eyebrows to ease the tension there.

“And- how old are you, really, then?” 

“Oh, we’re about six thousand years old,” Crowley says tiredly. You can empathise. Six thousand years is a long time. You’d be tired, too. You rub a hand down across your face, snuggling into Aziraphale’s tummy a little. “We’ve been here since the beginning.” 

“Since the beginning? Wait- does that mean- what about the Dinosaurs?” 

Crowley looks at you with a sly grin.

“That might’ve been us, I’m afraid, love.” You eye him in a way that says what-exactly-does-that-mean? To which he laughs, and replies, “it’s a joke Humanity hasn’t got yet.” 

You groan and cover your eyes, horrified by the information that has now been shoved at you. You don’t know what to do about any of this information. 

“Oh, dear, Crowley,” Aziraphale chuckles, looking down at you with such love. “I think we might have broke our favourite human.” 

Crowley squeezes your thigh and chuckles. “Mm, unfortunate. Might have to get a new one, eh, Angel? What do you think?”

“I rather think you might be right,” the literal Angel replies softly. You glare up at the two of them between your fingers, “but I do quite like this one.”

Crowley reaches over to pull one hand away from your face, bringing it to his lips to kiss softly. You cheeks heat at the intimate look in his eyes. His, you now realise- entirely real eyes and not at all contact covered. You lose yourself in them for a moment as he rubs your knuckles, lips pressing into the skin.

“Will you tell me something?” You ask, brushing a finger over Crowley’s cheek. “Something interesting you’ve done. I’m sure six thousand years worth of stories is a lot.” 

“Mm,” Crowley replied thoughtfully. “I suppose we do. As long as it’s not the fourteenth century. I hated the fourteenth century,” he makes a face. You filed that away to ask about another time.

“Oh, I know,” Aziraphale said, cheeks about to burst with the strength of his smile. “Shall we talk about the court of Henry the eighth?”

Crowley lets out a barely contained bark of a laugh. “Oh, yes. Now that was an interesting assignment. Bit close to the fourteenth, though,” he added with a hint of a warning.

“You’ll live,” Aziraphale brushed him off as he began to tell you all the interesting tid-bits that only someone who was there at the time could tell you about. 

The three of you talked for several hours about different eras of history. You asking questions, Aziraphale being quite factual, and Crowley adding all the juicy facts and drama into the mix to keep things interesting. 

As it turned out, they had a lot of information about a lot of things, and you were looking forward to asking them questions about everything under the sun, before the sun, and everything in between. 

Heavens, you really did love them. 

And they loved you too.

[hannahssimblr]

Winter. 

When did this happen? Was I looking away for long enough for the season to change without my notice? I haven’t spent enough time here watching time, from this old velvet seat by the window that overlooks brutalist blocks, each building identical to the next. These utilitarian slabs might stand like this, grey cubes jutting from the asphalt, for five hundred years. I’m here for five months now. Thoroughly settled, used to this place, this apartment with the tarry flavour of cigarettes clinging to the furniture the landlady never took away. 

Jonas says she’s strange, this woman who has left all of her old things for us to live around. Her lamps, with sun-faded shades, her record collection, the chenille bedspreads stuffed into a closet, and the ancient television I replaced the day after I landed. I’ve never met her. Sometimes, I slip a dusty bottle from her wine rack in the cellar and serve it to my friends at dinner. Surely, by the time she ever notices, I’ll be long gone.

Through the vignette of condensation, the snow drifts, white flecks, across the beam of the streetlights. Kreuzberg is quiet. Sunday. 

I refocus my eyes to look into my face, a mirror reflection in the black window. I look older, perhaps, than in the photographs Jen posted to me in September, the ones from the summer, where the light is hazy and our noses are sun blushed, from that time that feels like another lifetime already, or like fiction. At Christmas, I returned to Ireland, and it rained for two weeks without stopping, and it felt something more like reality.

My grandmother told me that my hair was straggly, and she’s right. It’s been too long since I’ve cut it, but the ends of my hair spent the summer with me. Even though my skin cells have replaced themselves, the parts of my hair touching the collar of my coat and curling around my ears hold the memories that the rest of me is slowly losing. 

I haven’t stayed in touch with my friends from there as much as I would have liked. These days are busy, with friends, with college. I draw and paint more than I ever have, lashing out piece after piece, sketchbook after sketchbook, building a tower upon the desk in my cold little bedroom, though the women in my pieces don’t have green eyes anymore. Now, I choose blue.

The door buzzes, and I stand to answer it. 

My finger on the button, “Yeah?”

“Hurry! Open up, it’s fucking cold.”

I buzz her in, then stand waiting by the open door as she ascends the stairway. Three floors. I hear her the whole way, the snap of boot heels against tile. There’s an elevator in her building, and I feel acutely guilty about my building’s lack of one, despite being entirely powerless to do anything about it, as I am an art student, not an engineer, and was not yet actually born during its construction. 

She appears on the landing, shivering, with snowflakes clinging to her hair, and sitting on the structured shoulders of her trench coat. 

“Ugh, oh God, those stairs. I hate them.” She says. She unzips her boot and tosses onto the pile of shoes next to the door, and I notice immediately that she’s barefoot, toes balanced on the tiles like a ballerina. 

“You didn’t wear socks?”

She’s not wearing tights either. Her long, pale legs poke, completely exposed beneath the beige gabardine. 

“Did you take the U-Bahn like this? It must be five below zero.”

Her second boot hits the tile with a clatter, and she backs me into my apartment. As the door clicks shut, she pulls on the tie of her coat.

She’s wearing nothing but black lingerie. 

“Ah,” I am enlightened. This now makes perfect sense to me, in much the same way it does to her. Astrid has a way of bringing me around to her way of thinking. 

This was actually an excellent idea. 

“I was bored,” she says, which makes sense too. She is always bored. This is why she does what she’s seen people do in films. It’s a way to keep herself entertained. An unwelcome thought flashes into my mind, as I wonder if she has done this specific thing for previous boyfriends. I hop off that path. With Astrid, it is important to dwell only upon the present. Anything before this, now, me, us, is nothing worth worrying about. 

I slip my hands under her coat, onto the soft, downy velvet of her skin. 

“Nice and warm,” she murmurs. 

“Astrid, you shouldn’t have gone out like this.”

“It was only thirty minutes.”

“I know, but,” Her hands are freezing between mine as I heat them with my breath. “It’s too cold.” I’ll have to give her something of mine to wear when she goes home, but begin to worry that nothing is clean. I have been avoiding taking my dirty clothes to the basement since I flew back in ten days ago, too cowardly to face the seizing cold of the communal laundry room and that ever present leak in the ceiling surely turned to an icicle by now. 

These are not sexy thoughts. 

It’s like she can tell just by looking at me. “The point is, you will heat me up,” she says, a bit slowly, like I’m thick.

I don’t want to be the guy that lacks spontaneity. That would make me anxious. She pulls her hands from mine and pouts at me, as though at a little dog. “Look at you, you’re so nice.”

It’s not intended as a compliment, and I understand I should be doing something a bit wilder, like, I don’t know, taking my own clothes off already. Why on earth haven’t I started to do that?

Ah, because I am nice. 

“Okay, fuck your hands then. They can freeze.” Often, jokes are a mistake around Astrid. She rarely laughs at them. In fact, she rarely smiles at all, and only indulges us when she feels like doing it. It’s never to be polite. She knows her own mind. I’m obsessed with her. 

I’m obsessed to an ever greater extent now, because, once again, she’s not laughing. She’s not trying to please me. It’s me, always, trying to please her instead. I tug on her coat and it pools to the floor, then I kiss her. 

“God, I love you.” 

I murmur it, the truth. 

I knew it the third or fourth night we spent together, in November, as the last stubborn leaves clung to the branches. She wasn’t like anybody I had ever met before. She reminded me of nobody, and that was the point. 

I felt it, that weakness, my molten insides, and the deep fear of it in the early hours of one morning as she lay on the sheets with moonlight spilling across her back. She has a tattoo between her shoulder blades of a heart pierced by three daggers. She says it’s from a tarot card, and she was younger and stupider when she got it. That night, as she slept, I uncovered some kind of symbolism in it that moved me, but in the morning light I had forgotten all the profound thoughts I’d come up with except one: That I loved her. It surprised me. I ignored the tiny pang of sadness I felt, like mourning for a part of my life that was already long gone. It was useless to miss it.

I chose Astrid instead. 

I choose her now, love her in the same way I kiss her and touch her and fuck her, by doing what she wants me to do. It’s not a submissive situation. I’m not into that stuff. I am a man clocking in and doing as he's asked, thoroughly, diligently, excelling at his job. Eager to please. Employee of the month.

“Will you put your hand on my throat?” She breathes. Beneath me, her hands claw the bedsheets. 

Yes, I think. That would be nice. 

I am interested to discover that I like it too. I don’t think the other girls I’ve slept with would have let me try the things that Astrid does. They couldn’t picture themselves doing it, I’m sure, and neither could I. Back then I didn’t think about sex the way I do now, but Berlin has been bringing it out in me. 

She comes first. That’s mandatory. Then afterwards, when I have, and thoughts return to my brain, I’ll lay here, haunted by the years I didn’t know about this golden rule, and all the time that I thought I was good at sex but wasn’t. Dwelling on the disappointment I brought upon women and girls will make me spiral a bit, I’ll feel it rising, but I’ll feel better when I fuck Astrid again, in some new, fascinating position, and she’ll tell me I’m pretty good, in fact.

She’ll be loud enough about it that Klaus from downstairs may complain, and point out that such volume levels are forbidden on Sundays. He’ll threaten to raise it with the building management, so I’ll bring up the fact I know it was he who put cat food containers in the recycling bin. Neither of us will do anything, and the cycle will repeat until one of us moves or dies.

“Klaus is a miserable, jealous old fool,” Astrid says. “He probably doesn’t have sex, so he’s furious at people who do. I think it’s basic psychology.”

“He lives with his wife, you know.”

“Oh, that doesn’t mean he’s having sex. Married people don’t do it. Or at least hardly ever. That’s why I’ll never be tied down like that.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You think Mr and Mrs Klaus are fucking like rabbits down there?”

I scrunch up my face. “I’ve never heard them. Maybe they do it very quietly while I’m out of the apartment.”

“They never do. I bet they hate one another. Surely they sleep in separate rooms and only speak when they have to.” Astrid invents this story with glee. She is describing what is to her an indisputable fact of life. Her parents, and her mother’s relationship with her stepfather, too. I think she believed these things about marriage before meeting me, but the confirmation that my parents are the same has solidified it. 

“I don’t like to think about things in such a black and white way,” I say, and hold my palm against hers. Her fingers are long and slender. “Just because a lot of marriages are bad, doesn’t mean they’re all doomed. I believe some people are happy.”

“Trapped,” she whispers. “Like canaries in a cage. Maybe they don’t know any better.”

“If I was married, it’d be because I loved that person completely. I wouldn’t do it unless I was sure, and if I loved someone that much, I think I’d still have sex all the time. I can’t really picture that changing. When would I ever not be doing it, you know?”

She hums gently. “So you would never join a monastery.”

“Ugh.”

“And if you married me, you’d want me like this forever?”

This isn’t a serious question about marriage. That would be ridiculous. This is a test for me to pass, and am about to, with flying colours.  

“Yeah, you’re so appealing in every way. I can’t imagine not being completely crazy about you forever.”

“You definitely wouldn’t get over me if I left you.”

“Nah, probably not. In my grief, I might even refuse to sign the divorce papers or some shit.”

She nods, satisfied, and rests her head on my chest. It slots nicely beneath my chin. “I want to go to sleep,” she says.

“Alright, me too.”

I switch off the light and listen to the pitter patter of the snow on the window, drifting slowly away with it.

Astrid shifts, restless. 

“Tomorrow, I have a lecture at eight.”

“Unlucky.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Ah, yeah, probably because of the lingerie stunt.”

A pout. “It was a gift for you.”

“And I loved it. I can find you something to wear.”

“To my class? Your clothes? I’ll look ridiculous. Can you get me a taxi to my house so I can change?”

“Yeah, of course. If you wear my clothes in the taxi.”

“I won’t be naked under my coat in front of a strange man, Jude.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll arrange a taxi, then.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She adjusts her position again, and the subtle contact of our bodies sets off a chain of sensation. I rake my nails lightly over her back, and she shudders. 

“You’re so pretty,” I say. “Did you know that?” I know she does, but I like the smug way she always says yes. 

“It’s okay if I leave my underwear here?”

“If you want to, yeah. Why? Do you think I wanted to carry it around in my pocket or something?”

“So you can wash it for me.”

“Yeah,” I press my lips to the back of her hand. “I’ve been meaning to go to the laundry basement for too long now. I’ll just add them to the pile.”

“No, you need to hand-wash them. They’re made of lace.”

“Oh right. So like, in the sink, or something.”

“I thought you might have known that.”

“Nah, see, in Dublin, we had a cleaner who washed all of my lace underwear for me.”

“Mm…”

“... That was a joke about the lace underwear. We did actually have a cleaner, though.”

“You’ll take care of it? They were quite expensive. It’s not as though I have a lot of that kind, so if it got ruined…”

“I will.”

She slips a hand into my hair and seeks my lips in the dark. She kisses me with such affection that I melt into her. “I love you, Jude. Thank you.”

“I love you too.”

A low chuckle as I bite her earlobe. “You really would never be a monk, would you?”

“Oh, my God. The thought makes me sick.”

I roll over her, and we give Klaus one more thing to complain about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[miss-tc-nova]

Not Vil - Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Okay, listen. Listen Linda! I know this isn't great, even though this is kind of the concept you were thinking of. I hope you still find this one silly and somewhat entertaining, but just you wait. I had another idea too.

So stay tuned!

Premise: Vil is taking his character a bit too far

Words: 926

~~~~~

               I feel my lips purse, willing myself to keep my mouth shut. This is important to him. This is for a project—for his career. Plus, it would cause quite a bit of drama.

               But damn if I don’t slap Vil Schoenheit, I better get a Partner-of-the-Year award.

               For the past thirty days, the actor has been testing method acting—the kind people use in TV shows and movies, pretending that they truly are the character both on and off camera. I think part of the excitement comes from the fact that this is a main character role and he wants it to be his best yet. And it wouldn’t be bad, if Vil wasn’t playing such an eccentric, flirtatious, goofy character. It was kind of cute at first, and maybe I even enjoyed the extra flirting a little bit. But then it got old.

               Vil’s excessive monologuing on the beauty of every person he came across bordered on the realm of Rook. Everyone was lovingly compared to some beauty or another, which is very awkward for most of these self-conscious NRC boys. He began willing joining in on the antics of the first years, which was fun for a day, but became overbearing when he quickly began leading the group into even more shenanigans—several of which I became responsible for. And for all the poise and confidence that Vil exuded, this “character” was naïve with such childish notions of relationships. I did not need any more roses or for him to start fawning at the thought of a kiss. I didn’t even get the kiss in the end.

               Now, I’m sitting here, going over my homework, sitting alone in Ramshackle for some peace from that overbearing character.

               The foyer door opens. Ramshackle is still very much bare and under-furnished, leaving me fully exposed to whatever guest let themselves in.

               “There’s my beautiful muse.” The higher tone of his voice actually sends unpleasant shivers down my spine.

               “Oh. Hi sweetheart,” I greet, hoping my tone stays even.

               Hands cupping my face—a big Vil no-no—the young man squishes my face as he presses kisses all across my face. After at least a dozen, I shake him off.

               “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! How was your day, darling?”

               I drag a sleeve across my face. “It’s been alright. Trein gave an essay assignment and I’ve been working on it since class ended.”

               “Hm? Let me see.”

               Before I could say anything, the page disappears. I didn’t need help; I didn’t even ask. But here’s this wacky, flamboyant character waxing poetic about some treaty between humans and fae. Hell, I’m not even sure what he’s talking about and have long since tuned him out when, once again, his attention turns on me.

               Fingers tip my chin higher. With eyes clearly clouded with rose-tinted glasses, he coos at me.

               “What I wouldn’t do to place a tender kiss upon that beautiful face of yours.”

               The answer is obviously leaning in. I can’t even remember the last time Vil gave me an actual kiss or curled up with me for our weekly movie night. Hell, he won’t even hold my hand as we walk across campus anymore—too busy monologuing about some purity or other. I’m sick of this. This is not Vil and I’ve had enough.

               If he wants to be this character, then fine. He’s that character.

               “Mmm, I dunno. That sounds a bit too forward if you ask me.”

               A hand finds his chest. “Forward? I didn’t offend you, did I?”

               “No, by all means you flatter me, but such behavior would be improper, don’t you think?”

               The slightest twitch of his brows seems to say some signal has reached him.

               “Perhaps the impropriety lies with me. I would be honored if you would grace me with a kiss.”

               “Excuse me?”

               With pouting lips, Vil tilts his head. “Kiss me.”

               “Kiss you?”

               “Please?”

               I turn my head away, waving a hand dismissively. “Sorry, but I’m dating Vil Schoenheit.”

               The man freezes. Blinks.

               “But I’m…”

               I watch, waiting for the ball to drop.

               He sighs, shoulders relaxing with a hint of defeat on his face.

               “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I.”

               A smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe a little.”

               His head falls back, arms open to beckon me into his embrace which I gladly step into. Caressing hands rub at my back, his chin resting atop my head.

               “I’m sorry, my gem.”

               Giggling, I hold tightly. “If you don’t take this crappy methodism out of your acting techniques, I’m breaking up with you. I refuse to date all your characters.”

               “That’s a bit harsh.” Even his voice holds some laughter to it. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

               “Yeah right. You would’ve nearly burst into tears and begged me to tell you what you could change…in character.”

               He sighs. “Oh fine. I would have.” Leaning back, Vil gives me a smile—a true, gentle, sultry Vil smile. “So, how should I make it up to you?”

               I walk my fingers along his chest. “I think you owe me an extensive spa day for all the stress you’ve put me through.”

               Amethyst eyes take in my face. “Mmm, you may be right. You might be starting to develop frown lines.”

               I glare.

               “I’m kidding, my gem. I would be happy to spoil you. Are you going to pick the movie tonight?”

               “I’m going to pick the most childish, goofy, outlandish movie I can find.”

               Again, he sighs. “The price of acting is forever a steep one.”

~~~~~

Alternate - The Worst Method

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[jayjj7]

chapter 36. clarification

prev. | next | masterlist

a/n: thank you guys for 400 followers❤️ i also just had some bomb ass chicken

it felt like it’d been a year since you’ve been at danielle’s house, in reality it’s been a week. two people with completely different mindsets and goals never mixed well. from your perspective, danielle was dating minji and was cheating on her with you but you couldn’t help but still be drawn to her. from danielle’s perspective, she had no idea what went wrong, maybe she did start to believe what minji said about you using her. either way, danielle still wanted to be with you, at least care for you.

“come in please” danielle answered the door rather quickly, lights dim inside, the dark night outside not helping.

you walked in and were greeted with the familiar yet almost nostalgic sight of danielle’s couch where you spent countless hours talking and hanging out. the sight of it almost bringing you to tears. all you wanted was to be loved by danielle but you didn’t want to be a home wrecker.

“do you want some water?” danielle asked walking into her kitchen, avoiding eye contact.

“no thank you, i don’t want to be here for long, i don’t think minji would like that” you respond trying to keep your composure and not have your jealousy not shine through.

this comment threw danielle off but ignored it as she went to sit down across the couch from you. this never happened, danielle always sat right next to you, always smiled, always shinned, but not anymore.

seeing how different she was acting caused for your stomach to turn, the feeling of going down a rollercoaster and your insides spinning was the closest feeling to describe this.

“i just wanted to say that you are irresponsible and a really selfish person towards…her” you struggled to say minji’s name.

danielle nods in response, her heart sinking as she stared at you. her mind and heart was racing and she wanted to ask a million questions but didn’t want to interrupt you.

“we should’ve never done any of this” you point from yourself to her quickly to avoid your shaking hands to be revealed.

“y/n what are you talking about?”

“danielle you know what i’m talking about-“

“who is danielle?” she shakes her head, frustration getting to her.

“y/n why did you just get up and leave?” danielle asks, tears forming in her eyes.

you had a response in mind, you knew what you came here to do but seeing her like this broke your heart.

“you left with no explanation! i’ve been worried sick about you ever since! i’ve tried texting you but you blocked my number and i don’t know why!” tears stream down her face.

“stop worrying danielle! that’s the problem! you worry too much!”

silence filled the room as danielle processed what you said to her.

“you shouldn’t be doing this much when you have a girlfriend! i don’t want to be a home wrecker!” you add on to clarify.

“girlfriend?” she responds in confusion.

“you and minji!” her question bothered you, acting oblivious to the mention angered you.

“me and minji aren’t dating? to be frank i’m incredibly mad at her right now” danielle admits.

“yes you are! look at your lock screen, don’t play dumb with me right now!” you rub your forehead and try to calm yourself down.

danielle turns her phone on and is greeted with the picture of her kissing minji’s cheek. at that moment everything made sense to her, why you left, why you were angry, why you called her irresponsible.

“you’re really dumb y/n” danielle laughs as she wipes her tears.

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