#and the Taylor Swift shit. and now I have to deal with all the shit from last AGAIN? I hope they lose so bad

[therealsirsticker]

wait the Superbowl is yearly? I have to deal with all that again? Why? Is that why I heard all those fireworks the other night? You can't do this to me

[astonmartinii]

i will always love you | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem bodyguard reader

what he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his bodyguard? this IS a rom com

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1insider

liked by user1, user2 and 45.925 others

f1insider: red bull have confirmed that max verstappen will have a bodyguard for the rest of this season after increasingly aggressive fan activity towards drivers at races. what do you think about it?

view all comments

user3: i completely understand that it’s insane that it’s gotten to the point where he needs a bodyguard …. but like JEALOUS

user4: i pray there’s never any need for her to do her actual job

user5: f1 need to sort it out i agree

user4: i meant because i would be no better than a man im sorry god but i want to watch her fight someone 😫

user6: this should’ve been done so long ago but i’m glad they’ve finally made the step

user7: what i find crazy is that people can afford a paddock pass and wanna fight the drivers ??? what a waste of money GIVE THEM TO ME

user8: i’m being completely serious when i say … any punk ass influencer tries to film max in the bathroom i want this bodyguard to shoot them with a gun

user9: no i agree

user10: and when i do it on purpose so she can beat the shit out of me ??

user11: choke

user12: she look familiar to any of you?

user13: i thought i had seen her before but like i just can’t quite recall

user14: swiftie here! she was taylor’s bodyguard for a couple years so you probably have seen her in paparazzi photos or something

user15: taylor swift and now max verstappen i need her agent

user16: the thought of that massive hunk of a man cowering behind her is killing me

user17: it’s killing you? it’s getting me excited this is so romance book coded

user18: you people’s obsession with putting people in “relationship” is the worst thing to happen to the sport

user19: i agree! (they would be unbelievably cute)

user20: i’m glad to see we’re all being very serious about the state of the sport where a driver needs a bodyguard and not the fact that said bodyguard is visually appealing

user21: sky i will deal with your bias if you give us the visual on her

user20: jesus wept

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 120,399 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: new job, same friendship bracelets

view all comments

user22: WE FOUND YOU

user23: hi mother !!!!

user24: we miss you serving face with taylor :(

maxverstappen1: you were a bodyguard for TAYLOR SWIFT ???

yourusername: you didn't read my CV? you had the last say on me being hired?

maxverstappen1: i let GP read them and he's never steered me wrong before

yourusername: that seems irresponsible

maxverstappen1: ANYWAY my point was going to be ... can we still get eras tour tickets?

yourusername: i can see what i can do

maxverstappen1: what if you just called taylor up?

yourusername: do NOT reference the kardashians if you want tickets

maxverstappen1: noted :3

user25: i can't have anything in this life ??? what do you mean you've worked with taylor and max?

user26: she looks so hot with a gun i'm starting to think the NRA are on to something

yourusername: absolutely not get out of here with that shit

user27: oh she educated as well? will you accept my hand in marriage?

maxverstappen1: 🤨

landonorris: and if i said you could guard me all night

yourusername: it's kinda my job to guard max all night

landonorris: but you'd rather guard me 😉

yourusername: i doubt you'd pay me as well as max

landonorris: i can pay you other ways 😉

maxverstappen1: lando i will break your fingers one by one

user28: max is out here like SHE IS MY BODYGUARD

user29: him being possessive... idk where to look but both of them - mark me scared AND horny

user30: TOO REAL

maxverstappen1

liked by schecoperez, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,452,099 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: simply lovely to be back on the top step in brazil, @yourusername you're clearly my lucky charm

view all comments

user31: max does a generational drive and immediately gets on instagram to flirt with his bodyguard

user32: he's so real for that because look at y/n

user33: i once thought swifties were crazy for being so obsessed with her but now i am just as bad lol

yourusername: nuh uh that drive was all you big boy

maxverstappen1: heheheehehe

maxverstappen1: did i make a good first impression?

yourusername: a very good first impression ;)

maxverstappen1: are you proud of me?

yourusername: very proud maxy

maxverstappen1: :3 thank you <3

user34: what in praise kink did i just read?

user35: i know he's done it in a very public forum but just leave them to do whatever they gotta do

user36: i know this man saw her in a suit and with a gun and fell to his knees

yourusername: well... close enough!

landonorris: idc about all of that ^^ i'm still going to shoot my shot

yourusername: is me rejecting you luck or talent?

landonorris: HUH ?????

yourusername: i may just be a bodyguard but i still have working ears 👍

user37: okay so she does serve more than just looks ...

user38: she's got a fan in me now

charles_leclerc: let me just sit back and observe

yourusername: you good?

charles_leclerc: i am sitting back and observing

yourusername: you are observing very loudly

charles_leclerc: i am just watching max embarrass himself, this is very healing for my younger self

maxverstappen1: RUDE

yourusername: he's not embarrassing himself if it's working?

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 2,451,045 others

redbullracing: statement regarding today's incident.

view all comments

user42: sorry red bull but i want that video tattooed on my eye balls

user43: i am so unbelievably hot and bothered after seeing that video

user44: red bull i'm afraid you'll have to take that video out of my cold dead hands

landonorris: i didn't realise the paddock came with dinner and a show today

oscarpiastri: lando they tried to kill max...

landonorris: well he was never in any actual danger with y/n around

oscarpiastri: do you ever read the PR briefs?

landonorris: PR whats?

oscarpiastri: this is starting to make a whole lot of sense

user45: they'll try to cancel lando for this but like he's being real

user46: no because why was george russell and kimi antonelli literally in the back of the footage eating LITERAL POPCORN

user47: i've never wanted to be two people so bad

maxverstappen1: i lived bitch

yourusername: MAX????

maxverstappen1: because of you, i'm forever in debt to you <3

yourusername: just doing my job :)

maxverstappen1: so you didn't just do it because of your undying love for me :(

yourusername: i think that would be inappropriate

maxverstappen1: THAT'S NOT FAIR, THEY CAN'T TRY AND KILL ME AND YOU CAN'T SAY YOU HATE ME IN ONE DAY

yourusername: oh maxy, do you need a cup of tea

maxverstappen1: and a hug ????

yourusername: yes, even a hug

user48: oh to have max that pathetically down bad for you

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 2,309,773 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: can you people stop thirsting over my girlfriend please - i may not be able to fight but she can

view all comments

user49: HE HAD ENOUGH

user50: i mean i too think thirst comments from my literal friends would throw me over the edge

user51: he was like winning in brazil is not enough i gotta watch my gf beat the fuck out of someone and then publicly claim her

yourusername: you're puffing out your chest in the paddock when all the girls on the internet are thirsting over you - if anyone should be jealous it's me

maxverstappen1: but you're so much better than anyone else i am horrendously in love with you

yourusername: HORRENDOUSLY

maxverstappen1: i have never felt anything like this? im scared???

yourusername: no need to be scared baby i'm in for the long ride

yourusername: and i can and WILL protect you

maxverstappen1: i need to report a hostage situation? it's me in my bedroom - i need to be saved

yourusername: you're so cheesy, you're lucky i love you

user52: i have another hostage situation - it's me in this comment section

user53: watching them be in love is like torture to me i'm so lonely

user54: they need a trigger warning i fear

maxverstappen1: @landonorris @pierregasly @olliebearman suck on that

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game

olliebearman: why did you say fuck me for ????

maxverstappen1: i've seen those looks ollie don't lie to me

yourusername: babe i think he might just be scared of me

olliebearman: WOMEN IN POSITIONS OF POWER SCARE ME I'M SO SORRY Y/N

yourusername: no worries ollie! max is just possessive

maxverstappen1: ugh duh! you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, obviously i want to keep you to myself

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen and 342,067 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: and iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii will always love you! sorry it had to be done - whitney houston is a LEGEND

view all comments

user56: of course she knows that song, she's basically living that story

user57: OF COURSE SHE KNOWS THAT SONG IT'S ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS SONGS EVER ???

yourusername: and you can bet your ass the red bull garage have been singing it non stop since i arrived

redbullracing: singing is our passion

maxverstappen1: they'd have to kill me to keep me from you DEADASS (pun intended)

yourusername: and that won't be happening because i'll be there to protect you

maxverstappen1: i'm not opposed to watching you deal with a problem in the paddock

landonorris:WHY WAS I MADE THE BAD PERSON WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO WATCH ???

maxverstappen1: because it was my life that an attempt was made on ?

landonorris: and?

maxverstappen1: AND?

landonorris: it would've made winning the championship much easier ?

yourusername: nuh uh i would jump into that red bull and win out of spite

maxverstappen1: it's true, i've been training her up

landonorris: you gonna let me have anything

maxverstappen1: nope :P

yourusername: nope :P

user58: oh they're so annoying 😭

user59: true ride or die couples are so irritating

user60: i still wish i was them

danielricciardo: i get fired and you get a girlfriend ??? how is this fair

maxverstappen1: idk what you want me to say, i'd never give y/n up for anything

danielricciardo: not even a red bull maxiel reunion

maxverstappen1: sorry buddy, maxiel is dead

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: sorry daniel, there's a new sheriff in town - should've charmed max when you had a chance

maxverstappen1: try as he might, he'd never be you

yourusername: awwwww considering your massive teenage crush on him... i love you!

danielricciardo: so fuck me then?

fin.

note: TWO IN ONE WEEKEND WHAT?

[silencesscreams]

"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii

sad beautiful tragic

james potter x fem reader (angst)

a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them

warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”

you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.

he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.

sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.

during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.

until he kissed you.

it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.

“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.

one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.

“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.

“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.

“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.

when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.

sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.

it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.

he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.

the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.

but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.

your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.

life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.

christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?

when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.

a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.

once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:

“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.

on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.

when you sat at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.

after taking a bite from your dessert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.

as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.

“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.

“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.

he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.

“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.

“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.

“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.

“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.

“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to, i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.

“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.

“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?

“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.

“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.

“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.

“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.

“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming

“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.

“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”

“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.

“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?

you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.

“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.

“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.

“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.

it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

i might as well be drunk in love

“slut!” by taylor swift

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.4k words

idea: you’re drunk, and benny takes care of you after a long night out

tw: drinking, swearing, so fluffy it’s sickening

notes: this is my first big piece that I’ve wrote and omg it took FOREVER !! i haven’t been able to stop thinking about “the bikeriders” she literally consumes my every waking thought AHH !! anyway i hope you guys enjoy reading this:))

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it’s just about 4 in the morning and you and benny just made it back home to your place. you’d been so busy this week due to picking up more shifts at the library so you would be able to pay off the rent by the end of the month, groceries, and afford to buy a little more thread to stitch up a pair of your jeans and the large tear on bennys jacket. not only was that stressful, but throughout the week you had to deal with some grouchy elderly women, preverted college boys (‘pinkos’ as zipco would call them), and multiple groups of chaotic elementary school students who were checking out their books for the semester, and only to have a slice of toast, scorching hot coffee with no milk OR sugar, and fucking prayer holding you together. so yes, this night out was a well deserved one. but who’s kidding? you needed that shit! now here you are, barely getting up the stairs to your apartment as benny holds onto you for dear life.

as you both stood outside of your apartment door, benny began digging for his copy of keys in his pocket while leaning you up against his side and adjusting his hold on your hip. he draped his jacket over you before you hopped onto his bike to head home, leaving him in his tattered sleeveless black shirt against the cold chicago air.

“sorry baby, turns out the key were in the other po-“ “y’arms are so pretty honey.. like-i like how they feel ‘round me” you cut him off with slurred words as you drunkenly gazed up at him.

“can’t believe i get to see them all t’time, for m’self, a-and nobody else gets ta have ‘em but me.. a’like when they hold me when it’s real cold..o-or hot.. or ‘round the pillows or the flowers ya get me.. or when ya’ cuddlin’ lula.. oh i hope she’s not t’cold, v’missed her so much.. she’s probably sad that her mama and daddy were gone all night-“ at this point benny could only chuckle as his girl jumped from talking about his arms to their sweet black cat lula, it made his heart swell.

once he got you into your apartment he began walking you straight towards your bed, as your giggles and drunk thoughts echoed down the hallway “no b-benny i don’t wanna t’sleep yet, i wanna watch t’bakin’ show on channel 6, they be makin some.. some of them valen..tines treats a-and i wanna try” you began to whine as benny sat you down at the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you as he begins unbuckling the straps of your red kitten heels “yeah we can watch some baby, d’worry, jus’ wanna getcha out of these ‘nd this dress” “thought ‘ya liked me in this dress? grabbed these heels to match with em’” you said sadly, your eyes starting to droop.

benny looked up at you and could see the slight pout on your face, so he moved his left hand to caress your thigh “oh y’know i love this dress, but that tiny little nightie a’yours, that pretty pink flower in the middle that barely covers you up, takes the cake for me” he says as he moves closer to you “re-eally?” “yeah baby, she’s m’favorite” his voice gets muffled as he places some kisses on the tops of your thighs, still looking right back up at your sleepy eyes “but i love everythin’ that you wear.. especially when you wear nothing” he says with a smirk on his face, and had stopped your whining and shut you up instantly.

after getting your heels off benny helps you stand up to start taking off your clothes. the jacket was first to go, as he tossed it on top of your vanity chair. he then pushed the straps of your red gingham dress down which slowly began to fall to the floor. you were left in the dainty lingerie set you’d picked out for the night; the blush pink fabric with the lacy details matching the drunken flush on your face. benny takes his time to get a look at you, rubbing his callused hands up and down your sides. he knows that all the shifts you’ve picked up and the deadlines of payments have been making you stressed, so he just wants to take care of you tonight, although it won’t come close to repay you for all the sacrifices you make for him.

after benny unclasped your bra, he swiftly moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your linen night gown “arms up for me baby” you obliged, sleepily raising your arms above your head you momentarily close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. but you felt something else. something running along your legs. was that fuzz? you didn’t wear socks with your heels tonight and benny already tossed your dress into the laundry bin. you were stumped until you heard a rumbling sound from beneath you. purring.

“oh lula! l-look honey s’lula! she’s purring up ‘gainst me!!” you gleamed to benny, as he too was receiving affection from lula. “she’s happy that her mama and daddy are back home, right honey? home?” benny ever so slightly teased, but out of love of his girls’ adorable rambles. “yeah. home” you said with a smile. now after changing benny walks you over to your side of the bed. he sat you down facing him, but paused briefly as he realized he forgot to take some of your jewelry off.

“one second mama, forgot to get this necklace and these hoops off, i know you sleepy but i’ll be quick” he said, quickly and gently taking them off “i told ya’ i ain’t sleepy.. gotta.. we gotta still watch our show ‘member?” “y’right baby, our show” a chuckle left his mouth; of course he remembered, but he wanted you to take the credit for remembering about it as you were fighting to stay awake. “what would i do without you baby? hmm?” “d’know ben-baby, but don’t worry, y.. ya’ have me” “and you have me baby. m’sweet baby” benny’s words became muffled as he held your jaw and kissed you deeply before placing your jewlery down on the nightstand. you were finally lying down after benny got you comfortable. he then quickly stripped down to his boxers and swapped his black shirt for a white wifebeater before joining you in bed.

just by looking at you he could tell that you were barely awake, but sticking to his word, he turned the tv onto channel 6, as clips of a dessert with chocolate and some kind of fruit in it come across the screen. strawberries? or raspberries? hell, cherries? he could not tell.

as the sounds of the baking show filled the room benny shifted you closer to him, so you could rest on his chest. “did you have a good time tonight baby? i know you’ve been excited about this meeting all week” he asked you softly. you let yourself finally close your eyes, knowing that it was okay to rest now “s’so fun.. ears are ringin’ a lil.. but had so fun with t’girls, and t’club,” benny notices that your sentences are making less sense as you are just moments away from knocking out, but he was able to make out one coherent sentence of yours before that “but i had t’most fun with ya’ tonight.. ya’ lit up m’whole night honey” seconds away from slipping into your own dream land, he had to admit, you saying that so effortlessly made his breath hitch in his throat. he didn’t have a care for anything outside the club until he met you, and you have completely flipped his life upside down because of it. it gave him meaning to ride home late at night knowing he was coming back home to you. it gave him purpose to always come back to you, regardless of what’s going on through his mind. you are there for him, you are there to care for him, laugh with him, cry with him, and to just love him for the person he is. you are there for him. you are it for him “and you light up my life baby, my light”

he reaches his hand over to turn off the little lamp on his side of the bed and when he turned his head back to look at you, you were fast asleep; soft snores leaving your mouth. he could only smile, knowing that you can get the deserved rest you’ve needed “love you so much sweet girl, with my whole heart” he kisses the top of your head as lula leaps onto the bed to join her mama and daddy for cuddles.

peace and quiet at last.

[aphroditeinthesea]

can i please request a percy jackson x reader where the reader is a daughter of aphrodite to the song i can do it with a broken heart by taylor swift

“ i can do it with a broken heart ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

⚠️ percy is an ass to the reader but that’s kinda a given + percabeth inclusion woop woop

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

i can read ur mind

she’s having the time of her life

there in her glittering prime the lights reflect

sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

“I’m so happy you're finally getting over him,” her sister smiled, hand on her back.

She forced a grin as she continued to sing along to the campfire song. She nodded and waited for her sister to turn her attention away. When she finally saw the girl from the corner of her eye turn towards her boyfriend.

Y/N looked down to the grass. If she looked up she knew what she would see. Just the thought was nauseating. The boy who she claimed to all her friends she would marry, who she already had best laid plans to move to New Rome with and go to college together.

Everything that came to a crumble when he decided he did want those things. Just with his best friend instead.

She watched from across the way how his arm was wrapped around the blonde. They weren't even talking, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was as though they were having an entire conversation without saying anything. She recalled how when she first started going out with Percy and her friends tried to warn her. Everyone knew that the two were soulmates, except for three people.

She wondered if on some level she always knew, too. Maybe she was just denying it to stay with him for just a little bit longer. Even if she screamed all night the day she he broke up with her.

If you were ever so inclined to wonder what really truly happened, here’s the deal:

It was like any other Friday. Perseus Jackson waltzed into her cabin, head low almost as though he cared. He told her he wanted to talk to her privately in cabin three. Her heart sank. She knew. She just knew.

Soon enough, while she sat on his bed and he stood in front of her, he spoke in his softest voice.

“We need to break up.”

She felt her head get dizzy while she looked up at him, “what?”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat next to her, “I hate having to do this to you.”

“Why?” was all she could say.

His eyebrows creased, while tears welled up in his sea green eyes. She felt like she was looking into one of the clear seas of Greece. “I dont feel about you the way that I should.”

She sighed, “Annabeth.” Although because of the weakness in her voice, all that came out was, “Eth.”

He understood her. Slowly nodding, he began once again, “I realized I feel more about her than I should,” he took a breath, “but I wouldn't do anything before ending this with you. I couldn't hurt you like that.”

That damn loyalty of his.

“I get it.”

i’m a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said “babe, you gotta fake it til you make it”

and i did

The next morning, it was like it never happened. Afterall, a girl’s gotta have a reputation to upkeep. Everyone’s favorite daughter of Aphrodite. Who could hate a girl so bubbly and peppy and outgoing and happy and has never once had a bad hair day?

Everyone tried to get her to talk about it, but the only thing she said was “I’m helping at arts and crafts today, tee-tee-why-ell!”

With a smile on her face and the taste of vomit on her lips, she pranced around helping campers make vases and false confidence.

“You need to guide your hands up more, like this-”

“Y/N.”

She looked up to lock eyes with the daughter of Athena. “Annabeth.”

“I really wanted to talk to you.”

She flashed her blinding smile and raised eyebrows, “I would love to talk, but I’m right now,” even though her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde curls, “see you later, though.”

“I’m staying.”

“Oh!” She squeaked, “grab a seat.”

lights, camera, bitch smile

even when you wanna die

he said he’s love me all his life

but that life was too short

As soon as y/n was alone she broke down, hitting the floor. She felt all the pieces of her shatter. She had spent hours grinning like a winner before she finally crashed.

She let out every emotion she had felt that day. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it. She let out a scream for every glance she shared with either Percy or Annabeth.

But just before dinner, she dolled up her makeup and curled her hair to perfection. Then brushed it out. Then straightened it.

She knew she was overthinking it, but how damn stupid would she look walking out to dinner with hair that mirrored the girl she was just left for? Of course, the meal went as it always would. Her cracking jokes with her siblings, giving out advice that not a soul asked for, all was normal except for the table across the way.

The Poseidon table, which was currently being shared by a certain blonde. This had to be a joke. She watched their conversation flow so easily. The laughs, the smiles, whispers, before Annabeth snuck back off to her own table.

She thought to herself that maybe she should have done that. I mean, if little miss perfect could bend the rules a little, why couldn't she? Maybe that’s why he left?

Over the next few weeks, she tried to block out everything about him. Maybe it was just a dream. But occasionally she’d find something of his in a drawer. Crucial evidence she didn't just imagine the whole thing.

She was sure she could pass this test. The test being the ability to not spend her days crying. And although she did cry a whole lot, she was so damn productive. It was honestly an art. She knew for the rest of her life that this time really proved how good she was at faking. You know? ‘Cause she’s miserable and nobody even knows.

Try and come for her job.

[crazyk-imagine]

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

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

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

-

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

-

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 &lt;;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

-

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

-

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

[sunshine-daisies-library]

Speak Now | Steve Harrington x Fem!Ex!Reader

Summary: You were called in as a last ditch effort by Dustin to convince Steve to back out of an arranged marriage with Kimberly Astor, the heiress of a multi-million dollar company. Only issue is that you were uninvited to the affair, but the kids you used to babysit have another plan. 

Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, drug abuse, exes to lovers

Based on Taylor Swift's song, Speak Now <3

You shouldn’t be here. You’re being serious, you really shouldn’t be here. But when Dustin called you and pleaded for you to drive over two hours from Chicago to your hometown, you knew this wasn’t a call to ignore. You weren’t the type of girl to barge in on a wedding.

But then again, you knew Steve wasn’t the type of boy to marry the wrong girl. 

“Thank God you came,” Dustin runs over to throw his arms around you. He lets out a sigh of relief as he tosses his entire weight onto you. You stagger back as you try to keep him standing, but it had been far too long since you had seen the boy, he had grown faster than you expected. Three years was enough for him to shoot up and tower over you. No longer was he the short curly haired boy you watched over on weekdays to get some pocket money to go on dates with Steve. Now, he’s nearly an adult, packing his things for college and using his free time to call his favorite people: you and Steve. Separately, of course, because you two were no longer a thing. 

“You called,” you respond, pulling away. “Besides, it gives me a reason to see you munchkins again.” 

“I think we hardly classify as munchkins now,” you hear a voice from behind you. In comes the gang of kids you used to spend nearly every waking day with, all visibly older and dressed fancily for the occasion. Mike, the voice you recognized, leads the group and comes to hug you first. 

You can barely reach up to hug him. “Mike!” you exclaim. “Jesus, you’ve gotten so big.” 

Max steps forward and gives you a small smile, never the one for physical contact after everything that happened. Her glasses frame her face beautifully, and her matured features cause your eyes to water. “Enough of the waterworks,” she tells you firmly. Max cocks her head at the bride’s family, all dressed in tacky pastels. The mom swats at her youngest son’s hand as she pushes his blond hair back. “We have more shit to deal with now.” 

“Is she that bad?” you ask your friends. 

Will grimaces along with Lucas and his far from little sister. Erica was never one for hiding her emotions on her face, and that habit seemed to have stuck as she aged. “She was just yelling at some bridesmaid,” Will replies with a sigh. “Pretty sure it was Steve’s cousin, too.” 

“She looks like a pastry,” Eleven deadpans, causing Max to elbow her. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh at Eleven’s directness. Things never change, you suppose. “Where is he?” 

Everyone knew who he was. It was the very reason why you drove all this way. 

“No clue,” Dustin answers, hands shoved in his pockets. “Kimberly has been bothering him about everything needing to be perfect,” Dustin’s voice went high-pitched and unbearable to imitate the rich heiress Steve called his fiance. 

You never knew why Steve got himself into this. Pleasing his parents was the last thing he ever wanted to do while you were dating. What happened in the three years of leaving Hawkins that made him switch up? This wasn’t the Steve you knew, and you knew from the moment Dustin called that you had to stop Steve from ruining his life. 

Music starts to play, ringing through the halls of the gothic church you were standing in the middle of. The wedding was starting soon. The bells and gonging sound eerily similar to the sounds of the grandfather clock Max vividly described when she was in the hospital after Vecna’s attack. It sends shivers down your spine but you quickly regain your composure. 

“We gotta go,” Max informs you. “Steve made sure to get us seats in the front. You’ll be okay from here?” 

“Yeah,” you reassure them. “I’ll be fine, promise.” Parting ways, you spend the last few minutes looking around for that familiar mop of brown hair. In the distance, you see him and he instantly takes your breath away. 

He’s wearing a pressed suit that shows no sign of wrinkles or age. It’s definitely new and tailored for him, no doubt thanks to his mother. In his suit pocket is a neatly folded white pocket square, and beside it was a freshly picked rose pinned to his breast. He looks like a daydream, but deep down, you knew he was living his worst nightmare. 

This was all wrong. He hates stiff suits and having his hair slicked back. He never wanted a fancy and lavish affair for a wedding; he always wanted it to be intimate and surrounded by his loved ones and definitely not his snotty relatives. And Steve hated roses. It reminded him too much of his parents’ materialistic relationship. The one where his mom thought it was perfectly suitable to drink her problems away with wine and the occasional scotch. It was also the one where his dad would just shower his mom with designer purses and roses whenever she found out he was sleeping with yet another unreasonably young secretary. 

A pained expression rests on Steve’s face as he trails behind the minister. You call out to him through the sea of people. After the third call, he finally perks his ears at your voice and turns to face your direction. A look of surprise replaces his sullen expression. It’s been three years since he’s last seen you. Three years since you broke things off to move to Chicago. How did you end up back in Hawkins? 

‘What are you doing here?’ he mouths to you.

You’re weaving through the crowd, trying to get to him. ‘Saving you,’ you mouth back. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but before he can do anything about it, he’s nudged forward by a groomsman. Reluctantly, Steve moves forward and walks down the aisle. 

You don’t lose sight of Steve, hiding expertly behind the curtains as the procession continues. He walks down the aisle to the organ’s music that reminds you of a death march. You closely watch the rest of the members of the family follow behind Steve. You were so concentrated on the procession that you didn’t realize Will’s older brother standing behind you. 

“L/N what are you doing here?” Jonathan whispers. 

You jump in shock, gripping the dusty white curtain close to your chest. “Jonathan!” you whisper-shouted. “Nearly scared the shit out of me. I’m here to stop a wedding.” 

“Where do you need me?” Jonathan instantly asks. You cock an eyebrow at his eagerness. “Listen, I’ve met Kimberly. Steve and I were never best buds, but I’m not going to let him toss his life away for a nasty person like her. Especially not when you’ve loved him all this time.” 

You open your mouth to correct him but Jonathan is quick to cut you off. “Cut the bull, N/N, we both know the truth. You never stopped loving Harrington, but what I can’t wrap my head around is why you left him?” 

“I wasn’t going to string Steve along for a hopeless long distance relationship,” you shoot back. “I had to move to Chicago for my job. I knew Steve would come with me no matter what I said, so I cut things off.” 

Jonathan presses his lips together in a thin line but doesn’t say anything else about the topic. “Why are you hiding, anyway?” 

You roll your eyes, peering over the curtains to see the flower girls tossing petals along the pathway. “Seems like I was uninvited by his lovely bride-to-be.” 

The music instantly changes as Kimberly walks out in her enormous dress. Her face exudes class and elegance as she takes calculated steps down the aisle. “Fucking pageant queen,” Jonathan mutters under his breath. 

“She looks beautiful,” you compliment shortly. That’s all you’re willing to say about her. From a distance Steve is looking through his bride, eyes only on you. He wishes the one walking down this aisle was you. 

The rest of the ceremony is a blur to you. Words go in your ear and out the other, and you almost didn’t realize the most important part of the wedding has started. 

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister read aloud from his book. “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Taking a deep breath, you emerge from the curtains and raise your hand. 

Horrified looks from everyone in the room but you only look at Steve. Relief floods his face and his shoulders finally relax. 

“You don’t want this,” you speak directly to him. “I know you, Steve. You don’t want any of this.” 

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Kimberly cuts in, facing the minister. “Steven wants this. Right, Steven?” 

“For the last time, my name is Steve,” Steve huffs at his now-ex-fiance. “And I don’t want this. I just want you.” His chocolate brown eyes peer over at you, and a small smile reaches his lips. “I’ll meet you out the back door.” 

Following his instructions, you run out of the church, dodging angry relatives and their shouts. Keys in hand, you hop into your car and start the engine. Pulling out of your spot, you drive down to the back door where Steve is. You quickly unlock the door as Steve practically jumps in, avoiding the yells of the bridesmaids and dodging the bouquets tossed at his head.

Steve lets out an exhausted huff as he loosens his tie. A giddy smile is on his face as he looks back at you. You can’t help but share a similar expression as you step on the gas. 

“Thanks for saving my neck out there,” Steve tells you gratefully. 

“Anything for you,” you respond, glancing over at him. He still looks the same as ever, if not more handsome. Your heart honestly never stopped beating for him. “If I didn’t make it clear earlier,” you clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m still in love with you, Harrington.” 

Silence follows and you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Soon enough, your worries are calmed when Steve takes one of your hands off the wheel and covers it with his. 

“I got that, dummy,” he chuckles softly. 

You sigh in relief, laughing quietly along, too. “So, where to?” 

You couldn’t get the glint in his eye off your mind when he smiles at you.

“Where’s the nearest chapel?” 

[artyandink]

h.a.h

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

SUMMARY: DEAN’S NOT EXACTLY A CLOSED BOOK. ONE LOOK AT THE GUY AND YOU EITHER THINK THAT HE’S HERE FOR A GOOD TIME, NOT A LONG TIME OR HE’S BEEN THROUGH SHIT. YOU’RE THE TYPE OF PERSON WHO PEOPLE SEE AS INNOCENT OR A BROKEN PERSON TO BE PITIED. YOU HATED THAT. YOU HATED VAMPIRES TOO.

TW: BLOOD, GORE, DECAPITATION, VAMPIRES, TOUCH OF ANGST, FOUR YEARS LATER, DEAN BEING SLIGHTLY SEXIST

NOW PLAYING:

• SNOW ON THE BEACH BY TAYLOR SWIFT

• KILLER QUEEN BY MAD TSAI

• MR BRIGHTSIDE BY THE KILLERS

FULL ALBUM

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

“HEY, PRETTY LADY.” Ugh, was this dude a creep? Not another one, you were sick of this crap. So you turned around, seeing a guy around your age standing there— all leather jacket, cocky smirks and sleazy lines.

He pulled it off too— he had the type of look going on you’d only expect to see if you were a horny teenage girl having a wet dream. Sandy blonde hair that either beautifully fell or stuck up straight in places, like it’d been flattened and ran through by his fingers too many times that his hair was no longer uniform. Green eyes that gave way to a brash and no doubt panty-dropping personality, complete with a cut jawline, freckles dusting his nose and cheeks and pouty lips that were curved into a smirk.

A 6’ 1” man clad in a pile of flannel, leather and jeans. Great.

“Hey, lumberjack.” Your dry retort made him laugh under his breath— the type of laugh that made you think that being in a dark alley with this stranger wasn’t the best idea. Y’know, last thing you want is to be in a fight with a serial killer.

His smirk only got wider, stepping forward with a touché point to you. “Good one. You here alone, sweetie?” Yeah, crap, of course he’s dangerous, nobody asks that question with a smirk on, that just invites danger.

“Yeah, I am.” You answered confidently, giving him a look that translated back off if he was insane or I’m fed up if he wasn’t. Eyebrow raised, lips pursed— yeah, that should do the trick.

”Ah. Well, you know what they say,” His eyes flicked up and down your body— not in a predatorial way, just in an I’m judging you severely way, “a little girl shouldn’t walk alone.”

Yeah, fuck no, you weren’t dealing with this sexist dude for much longer. “I’m fine, thanks.” But as you turned to walk, something appeared at the end of the alley.

Snarling, gaping wide mouth, flashing eyes, and long, pointed teeth with blood dripping from between its lips and dribbling all down the front of the shirt it had on, and it was licking its lips as if it’d been presented with a five star buffet. Shit, a vampire? Not today, c’mon.

“Ok, sweetheart, stay behind me.” The stranger said, barring you with his arm — as if that would do anything — while whipping out a machete as he advanced at the vampire, features not set hard.

You just leant against the wall with a smirk, chuckling under your breath at how he just seemed so confident. You opened the wallet you had in your hands, nicked from his pocket, seeing a bunch of names on faded fake IDs. FBI Agent Smith, Ted Nugent, CDC, Hector Aframian, all bullshit names. Alright, let’s see how this plays out. Can’t be too bad of a job, right?

Wrong.

Within five seconds, the lumberjack dude was thrown against a wall— guess the vampire was stronger after feeding. So as the machete dropped from his hand and he let out a groan, you rolled your eyes and took out your gun from your ankle holster to go help this damsel in distress.

Walking quickly towards the vampire while it hauled the guy up and into a chokehold, you got a target lock on its back and shot twice, bullet lodging in between the vampire’s shoulder blades and making it let out a wounded animal’s whine, while you kept a tight grip on the gun, pulled the vampire away from this dude — still don’t know his actual name — twisted and threw it clean over your shoulder, grabbing the machete and slicing its head off against the pavement.

“The fuck?” Your head whipped to Hector — Agent Smith — whoever he was, pinned against the wall looking like you were a ghost. “You’re a hunter?”

“Never seen one that’s a girl?” You retorted, handing him back his machete. “Bullets laced with Dead Man’s Blood. Basically does half the work for you.” Brushing off your hands, you watched as this dude got to his knees, checking the body.

He looked impressed. “Damn, guess y’re right.” He muttered, then got up, went to you and put his hand out. “Name’s Dean.” Ah, so his name was actually Dean. Not bad.

You gave your name, shaking his hand. “You sure? Cause I saw a lot of things in this here wallet.” You held it up with a grin, handing it back to him and making him laugh nervously.

“Y’sly dog.” He muttered, chuckling despite his pride as he pocketed his wallet. “Sorry about, y’know, assuming you’re defenceless.”

“You ain’t the first, you certainly ain’t the last.” Shoving your gun back in your holster, you gave him a brief smile as you began to back off. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

A scoff from him, raised eyebrows— but hey, he didn’t mind it that much. “Princess?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, as if the fact that he was a princess was gospel. “Princess. What else?” And with that, you rounded the corner and left.

Dean was left dumbstruck. And awestruck. Maybe a little starstruck. It wasn’t everyday a girl just swooped in out of nowhere and saved his ass— he’d have to tell Sammy about this anyhow, but maybe not cause the little shit would tease him forever. But eh, he could only be a hardass at heart for so long. But one thing was sure, you were a firecracker.

“Damn,” He kind of wanted to see you again, “that’s one hell of a girl.”

• • • ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • • •

TAGLIST ↴

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@cheynovak

special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite @aileenunfiltered @cosmicanakin @a1ecmcdowell

[hwanchaesong]

┗🖋️ Mayhem, mayhem follows silence / Walks unto the middle a prince / Bringing luck out of fountains / In a vow of shielding the villains 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift - Guilty As Sin?

wc: 1.6k

genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, toxic & drunk psh, figure skater!psh, implied situationship, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, etc etc mdni

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you squint your eyes at the man in front of your door, basically disturbing your peace in the middle of the night.

"I missed you." he garbles, impaired speech due to the alcohol running in his system yet you clearly understood the three words that you have always wanted to hear from him, and you hate how much it affected you.

"Really? Sunghoon, after all the shit you gave me? That's all you have to say?" you scoffed, finding this situation ridiculous.

"But I do!" he yells, "I fucking missed you, Y/N! It's not the same without you!" his loud voice resonated throughout the area and you panicked, scared that the neighbors will sue you for his stupid noises when everybody is asleep.

"You sh- come here!" you dragged him inside your apartment, letting him stumble on the floor.

"Y/N, bab-"

"Stop calling me that!"

Anger pulses in you. How dare he storm in after all the crap he pulled on you?

He really had the audacity to show himself to you even when you made it transparent enough for him to read that you're done. You are so fucking done of dealing with him.

You love him, so so much, but he has done nothing but give you the worst delusions and fantasies that prove to be dangerous for your sanity. It kills you, shooting bullets in your brain and slicing your heart into pieces.

You've imagined yourself with a man who will treat you like a princess, not like you’re some kind of side chick.

You were diving too deep into your madness that you failed to keep an eye on Sunghoon's movements. Being a figure skater has its pros, one of them is that his sense of balance is still great even if his surroundings are swirling around, and that allows him to lurch into your direction with ease.

The bricks that you were using to build your walls seem to be fake, as it easily crumbled when his lips were placed on yours. A sudden, soft lipl ock that had your knees buckling.

It was a contrast to how he kissed you before. Full of lust and desire but now, why is it that his kiss feels like a warm blanket of love?

His hands tread on your hair, pushing it out of your face, his palms landing on your cheeks to gently caress it. His whispers of affirmation and assurance against your lips made your mind hazy.

Is it possible for alcohol intoxication to be passed down to another person by breathing into their mouths? Or is there any other explanation as to why you're suddenly hot, out of breath and your ability to think straight was crumpled.

"Y/N." Sunghoon cries your name out, and it's worrisome that he remembers the way into your own apartment even in his drunken stupor, guiding you into your bedroom.

"I really did miss you, lemme show you how much, hm?" he smiled and you gulped, don't you have any other way of halting these erroneous actions that will lead to remorse sooner or later?

Sunghoon kisses you again and your resolution tumbles down on the ground like how your body surrendered to his, ungracefully falling onto your bed.

You panted his name when he proceeded to kiss down your neck, lightly nibbling on the stretchy skin and trailing splotches of hickeys that you'll have trouble hiding for the next few days.

His hands went over to your clothed breast, feeling your nipples harden under his touch, his fingers tweaked on it. Thumb rolling over your nipple whilst he continues peppering your neck with kisses and bites.

When he has enough, he pulls your shirt up, revealing your bare chest to him. He moistened his lips, clearly enjoying the view.

"You're fucking gorgeous." he murmurs before delving into your tits, burying his face onto it and doing the honor of leaving his marks. He then popped a sensitive nub on his mouth, guzzling on it. His tongue circled around your areola, sucking on your nipple and tugging it using his teeth.

You moaned his name wantonly and that spurred him to do more, to move faster, to fuck you until you're begging and writhing for him.

He hastily removed your shorts along with your underwear, tossing it haphazardly and his mouth waters at your glistening pussy.

It has been a while since he tasted you, but he bets on all his assets that you still and will always taste divine.

Snaking his body down and dipping a finger in your wetness once he comes face to face with your womanhood.

You squirmed at the intrusion, more so when he added another digit in. He seems to be playing with it. Feeling his fingers lather juices around your labia, then inserting it inside your hole, aimlessly pushing in and out and curling them out of the blue.

He saw your legs twitch, and he smirked devilishly when he removed his fingers, denying you of orgasm.

Your eyes went wide open, lifting your head up and glaring at him, only to be greeted with a sensual visual of him licking his fingers clean. A low satisfied hum coming out of him.

"Baby, you look mad." he sighs, and you roll your eyes at his feigned innocence.

"Sunghoon," you whined, your hand flying to his shoulders when he positioned himself on top of you after ridding his clothes, freeing himself from his own restraints, "do something. Please, Sunghoon."

How he loves the way his name comes out of your lovely mouth, melodious and relaxing. It soothes all his worries away and for a minute, he thinks that he's invincible from the problems that the world throws at him.

You always had that effect on him, and maybe that's the reason why Sunghoon can't seem to stay away from you. Maybe that is why he wants you all to himself, even if it's an opposition to reality.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" he purrs, rubbing his nose against yours while his lips are barely touching yours, allowing his breath to fan your face.

You whine out of contempt, but he won't budge. He needs to physically hear you say it. Beg for it more.

"C'mon, baby. Tell me." he urges, his cock sliding up and down your slit, covering it with your slick and it had you squirming.

Whenever his length comes up, it also makes you jolt, your clit being simulated by his actions. Although, it doesn't really help. It only adds to the burning desire for the man. Giving you a taste of what you can have but not fully feeding you of the dish that you need to eat.

"I w-want you to f-" your cheeks heat up, coloring you a shade of pink, and he finds you impossibly adorable.

You've done this with him a million times (an exaggeration), but the way you get shy under him never fails to turn him on even more.

"I'm listening." he mutters, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, his hands digging into the plush meat of your thighs.

You take a deep breath, swallowing the embarrassment, "I want you to fuck me. Please, Hoonie. Please do something I- Ah!"

You wailed when he entered you without any warning in one go, the intrusion surprising you as it had been a while since you had sex with someone. The last time was when, well, with Sunghoon.

"You know how to get to me, do you?" Sunghoon grits his teeth, the nickname that you accidentally slipped out made him go feral, snapping his hips into yours without letting you adjust first.

He's harsh, mean, and relentless— and you won't have it any other way.

You moan, hands making their way into his hair, treading through his jet black tresses and wiping the sweat from his forehead. A display of affection that did nothing but to make his heart race.

Vaguely, you felt his fingers draw lines on your upper thigh. Shapes? Letters? You couldn't catch up on what he was doing, especially when he kissed you hard while simultaneously hitting your deepest spot inside your leaking walls.

He mumbles against your bruised lips, "We have all night, baby. I'm not stopping until I'm satisfied."

It was rough, the way he manhandled you into different positions on your mattress. Merciless, when he cums into you before slamming back in, pushing his seed into your womb.

Your vision became pitch black during your session, and you can't help but wonder about the morning that is about to come.

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

A stray light passes through the curtains, seeping through your closed eyes and it stirred you awake.

Then you shoot up, remembering the events last night.

Sunghoon meeting with you, kissing your top lips rather messily, confessing the word that starts with 'M' and ends with an 'E'.

You peeked under your blanket. Completely clothed, you're clean, not sticky, yet the musky, alcoholic scent in your sheets tells you otherwise.

You shut your eyes tightly, salty tears threatening to fall as they form in the corner of your lids. Hands on your smooth hair, gripping it to the point where your scalp started to sting.

Are you imagining things? Have you finally gone insane?

You stand up from your bed, making your way into the mirror and there you see the love marks that he left.

That's a relief, you're not exactly crazy.

The labyrinth that you're solving is nowhere near close to finishing, and here you are, going back to zero.

Washing yourself in warm water, the remnants of last night flowing down the drain, it made you contemplate.

If he continues to torment you like this, how much would you last before the beauty of his terror finally makes you crack a dam?

Only one answer to that damned question.

Remain constant in choosing the false god that you worship until the heavens give you a sign that you’re guilty as sin whenever it comes to him.

taglist:

@shakalakaboomboo @ramenoil @slutforjeno @pshcomforts

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN

A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.

A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.

Playlist:

🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn

🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie

🌸Call Me-ShineDown

🌸Granite-Sleep Token

🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift

Title: Every Last Seed

He goes by many names.

He always has.

Hades.

Ploutos.

King of the Underworld.

God of the Dead.

Bringer of Death.

Lord of Darkness.

But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-

Mine.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.

"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"

"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."

Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.

"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"

His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.

Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.

Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.

"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."

Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.

He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.

"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."

Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.

"Great. What is it?"

Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.

It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.

"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"

Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.

"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"

Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.

"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.

Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.

"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"

He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.

Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.

Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.

"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."

Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.

After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."

Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"

His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.

"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."

Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.

Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.

God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.

No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.

A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.

"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."

Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.

"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?

Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.

And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.

Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.

"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.

You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.

"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."

Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.

"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.

Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.

The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.

"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."

He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.

"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."

"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.

Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.

That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.

It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.

Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.

Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.

It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.

"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."

"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.

You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.

Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.

He's grateful for that.

"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.

"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."

You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.

You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.

Fuck, you're adorable.

"I heard Zeus came to see you."

"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.

He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.

"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.

His dick swells at the thought.

He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.

"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"

He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.

"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."

He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.

"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.

You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.

"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.

"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"

An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.

He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.

"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."

Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.

"Because of our marriage?"

Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."

One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.

Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.

Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.

You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.

"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."

He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.

"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."

Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.

"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."

You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.

He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."

His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.

"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."

The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.

"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.

The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.

"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."

"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.

You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.

"Don't call me that."

You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"

"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but I think you do."

You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.

"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.

You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.

His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.

Fucking. Hades.

Brother of Zeus.

God of the Dead.

He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."

Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.

He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.

"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."

He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.

When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.

"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.

You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.

"Will I see you again, your highness?"

You swore he smiled beneath the hood.

"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"You can't have her, you know."

Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.

He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.

"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."

Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.

His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.

"Nephew."

Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Uncle."

Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"

Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.

"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."

"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."

Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.

"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."

And with that, he was gone.

Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.

Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.

"I'm surprised you came."

Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.

"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."

The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.

"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."

Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.

Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.

His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.

Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.

"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."

Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.

Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.

"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."

He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.

"There. Happy?"

Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.

When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."

There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.

Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.

"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.

The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.

Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.

The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.

He paused, freezing, and listening.

There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.

Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.

It almost sounded like-a gasp?

Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.

Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.

It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.

Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.

Gods above, you were touching yourself.

He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.

You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.

You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.

Suddenly, he can move again.

Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.

"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.

You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.

"No. Don't stop."

You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."

You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-

And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.

He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.

Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

You were brave, he'd give you that.

You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.

He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.

"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.

"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.

He took a step closer.

"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"

Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.

"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.

Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.

Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.

He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.

Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."

You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.

You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.

Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.

"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."

Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.

"Why?"

Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.

"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."

He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.

His dick was still unyieldingly hard.

Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.

You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?"

You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.

When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.

You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.

"What do you think about when you come?"

He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.

Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.

"You."

"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.

Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.

"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."

Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.

You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.

He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.

"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.

"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.

Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.

"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"

Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.

Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."

Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.

"Jeongin. Get out of my way."

Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.

He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.

"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.

"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.

Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."

Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"

Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.

It's admirable, he'll give him that.

He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"

Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.

He can feel a headache coming on.

"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"

Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.

"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"

Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸��

Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.

The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.

He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.

The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.

He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.

Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.

"I heard your mother stopped by today."

He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.

"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.

He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.

"(Y/N)."

You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.

Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.

The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.

"What did you talk about?"

You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.

"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."

Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.

"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.

You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.

"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"

Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.

"Yes."

Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.

At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.

"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.

Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"

"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."

Chan feels his heart immediately sink.

A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.

You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.

Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.

"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.

The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.

Chan ignores them.

You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.

"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."

You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.

Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.

He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.

You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

The mess he always makes.

After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.

Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.

Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.

"Little blossom, leave it-"

He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.

Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.

His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.

"You're bleeding."

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

"You're bleeding."

Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.

"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."

Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"

Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."

He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.

You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.

"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.

Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.

"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."

You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.

"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.

The look on your face took his breath away.

"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.

You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.

When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.

"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.

He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.

He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.

You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.

"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.

Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.

"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.

"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."

You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."

The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.

"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."

You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.

He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.

"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."

You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.

"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"

He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.

"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"

"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.

He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.

He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.

The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.

"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"

"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."

Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."

You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.

"You're right. I know you are."

Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.

The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.

He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.

"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."

You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.

"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."

A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.

"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."

You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."

Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.

Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

"Do you think we're all fated to another?"

You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.

He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.

The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.

"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.

"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"

Chan considers.

He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.

"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.

He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.

"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."

He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.

"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.

"I'll what?"

Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.

You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.

"Hi?"

He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.

You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

"I missed you, Channie."

"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."

You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.

Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.

"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.

He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.

"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."

And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Rockstar Girlfriend III. | Hazel Callahan 

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other but recently things are starting to look up.  Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Fluff, slight loser! Hazel. Not proof read. Sorry for any mistake, English isn't my main language. a/n: I should be doing an essay for class here we are. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all the love. There could possibly be another part.  ps. the song is "Lavender Haze" by Taylor Swift

part one. part two. part four. part five.

“Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me”

The two lines stared back at her as she anxiously tapped her pen against the couch hoping that some words would magically show up. She was desperate, very desperate. The deadline was near and she had made zero to no progress only having the first two lines of the song. She needed to finish the last song on the album, her manager had emphasized how important this album was for their career as a band. They needed to hop on the wave of success “dating” Hazel Callahan brought. 

She hated it, the only reason people were actually listening to her band wasn’t because they were talented but because she was attached to Hazel’s name. Not only did Hazel have several awards, a reputation of a god and a talented band but now Y/n’s band success was thanks to her.  She wanted to prove to the people that she was as talented as Hazel Callahan and her band. That’s why she offered herself to write that song on the album and that’s how she found herself at one am in the morning in the recording studio attempting to get out of the writer's block she had been stuck in for days. 

“No deal, the 1950’s shit they want for me. I just..” Y/n hummed the melody as taped the pen on the cushion attempting to get a beat. She was determined to get this song out. She needed to prove to her manager, to herself, to her band and to Hazel that she was talented.  “For fucks sake” Y/n muttered out as she took a sip of energy drink crumbling the paper up and throwing it in a pile of paper on the floor. She threw her head back on the couch stretching her legs under the coffee table. She closed her eyes, controlling her breath. Someone had cleared their throat from the other side of the room startling her. Y/n had lifted her head staring at the person in front of her. 

Hazel Callahan stood before Y/n, the only thing separating them was the table in the middle of the studio. Hazel’s body was adorned in a familiar sweater which instantly caused Y/n to smile at her.  Hazel held onto her guitar case while her tote bag rested on her shoulder. She sent a warm smile towards Y/n’s way, not her usual smirk, which actually scared her. For Y/n, this felt like she was crossing unknown territory. Why was Hazel at the studio late at night? It didn’t make any sense. 

“Hey, I hope I’m not bothering your creative process. I just.. You know. I was here in the morning and left by lunch. Didn’t see you move from your spot so I thought you might be hungry.  I brought some food so we could eat.  I always get good inspiration with a full stomach so I decided to bring your usual, I think… I’ve seen you order it a bunch of times before so I really hope it’s your usual and that I didn’t get it wrong” Hazel rambled quickly, taking out a brown bag from her tote bag and placing it on top of the table in front of them. She slowly rested her guitar case against the leather couch and quickly sat in front of the table also taking out her food out of her tote bag. 

“You know. It’s kind of scary that you’re being this nice to me.” Y/n said softly as she  inspected the bag slowly, surprised that Hazel had gotten her usual order perfectly.  Hazel took a bite of the fries shrugging her off. 

“I know it’s hard to believe but I am a nice person, Y/n. I just like messing with you, you make this cute little face when you're angry” She replied, taking a bite of her burger as Y/n followed her actions. Y/n could feel her face flushing at Hazel’s compliment. Her voice saying her name sounded like a melody she couldn’t get out of her head. What was happening?

“Thank You, Hazel. I really appreciate you bringing the food and everything but I need to finish this song. Management wants it for tomo.. Well actually today and I’m not even halfway done. ” Y/n said, placing her food down and reaching to grab her pen. As she grabbed it Hazel rested her hands on top of hers. Y/n looked up, locking eyes with Hazel as she felt herself loose the grip on the pen. Hazel cleared her throat, tapping her hand awkwardly, moving it away quickly. She looked to the side awkwardly, not wanting to face Y/n. 

“You are stressed and it’s pretty clear that you need a break. So forget about the song and talk to me. I know you’ll get the inspiration soon enough, Y/n. You are a talented girl.” Hazel said, rubbing the back of her neck turning to look at her quickly. 

“You, Hazel Callan, an award winning rock star, think I’m talented?” Y/n gasped dramatically placing a hand towards her chest in a joking manner not believing Hazel’s words. Hazel rolled her eyes, continuing eating her food. 

“I actually believe you guys are underrated. I consider myself a very big B/n fan. Your last album and quite honestly I believe it deserved several awards. More people need to hear you guys. I know that if they take the time they’ll see how talented you are and you’ll be on top of the world”  Hazel responded, scrunching up the wrapper and throwing it inside the paper bag. 

“I didn’t know you were such a fan. Would’ve sent you a signed sweater instead of the one you have.” Y/n said while continuing to eat her food. Hazel’s smiled started to form slowly while looking down at her Y/n’s merch. 

“I had to fight someone for this sweater, Ln. Now you should understand how big of a fan I am. So if you give me a signed one, I’ll love you forever” She said jokingly while leaning towards the pile of papers picking one up reading Y/n’s messy writing on a scrunched up piece.  

“Please don’t laugh at it. I tried my best.” Y/n muttered while placing her head on the table hiding her face from Hazel. 

“No, Y/n. You’re off to a good start. Let me help you out. Maybe we can come up with something together. You wrote here, I feel the blank, creeping up on me, what did you really want to write? Come on don’t be shy” She asked, while her eyes reread the lyrics. Her hand reached towards her guitar case, took her acoustic guitar out and placed it on her lap. As she strummed the guitar tuning it, Y/n felt herself smile. She wanted to write a love song and as much as she wanted to push Hazel away, the only thing she could think about was Hazel and her lavender sweater. 

“Lavender Haze” She muttered softly onto the table. Hazel straightens up trying to see her facial expressions. Y/n slowly raised her face up looking at Hazel.  

“Speak up, pretty girl,” Hazel said, sending her way an encouraging smile. Y/n felt herself blushed, feeling completely flustered by Hazel’s actions. 

“Lavender Haze. I feel a Lavender Haze creeping up on me. ” Y/n replied confidently, while  she watched Hazel nodded writing down on the paper. 

“Well, Y/n. Let’s make Lavender haze a real hit, baby” Hazel replied, passing her the pen with a confident smile. That’s how two girls that supposedly hated each other wrote a song at midnight about the Lavender Haze. 

...

Thank You so much for reading.

[next part]

previous chapter

[covetyou]

any other week

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: sickfic. no smut or nudity (shocking, I know). sickness (no vomitting) and associated gross feelings and metaphors. fluff. word count: 2.3k summary: You're sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact is you can't be sick. Not now. Not this week. Not when the only one around to look after you is the very person who pays you to look after him - Mr. Dieter Bravo.

A/N: if you hadn't heard, I have (had? I still feel shit but I'm technically negative and going to see Taylor Swift tomorrow, wish me luck lol) covid, and it's kicked my ass, so I wrote the least appropriate man in the universe looking after someone. enjoy 💛

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"D-!"

You barely get out the first syllable of his name before you're hacking a cough, pressing your palms to your knees as you splutter, bent over in a silent prayer to whatever virus has your esophagus in a chokehold, willing it to please let go.

It's feeling benevolent today, you think, when the clenching grip around your throat gives way a moment later, letting you take in a few blissfully sharp, painful gasps of air again.

Not that the cough has really stopped. That's been a niggling tickle for days now, growing and growing into something bigger as your body has gradually lost the fight with whatever asshole thing has set up shop inside your sinuses. Still, it's eased off enough now for you to raise yourself on wobbly legs, chest heaving and your head too fuzzy to really take in the foyer of Dieter's home, or the man himself as he tentatively creeps down the stairs.

It was going to be a bitch of a week. The last week before Dieter head's off to shoot always was. Full of last minute meetings and prep, and Dieter being all too much of an asshole for you to want to deal with, and you being entirely too much of a cunt to him in return. The last thing you needed was to be sick.

Whatever plague had befallen you didn't seem to give a shit you were assistant to the Dieter Bravo, or that sorry, we're busy this week, can I pencil you in for September? You'd just have to deal, and suck it up, and hope to the end of the earth that you could stay far enough away from Dieter than you didn't get him sick too.

"You look like shit."

You almost jump out of your skin, a muffled voice echoing down at you from the top of the stairs as your eyes strain to focus and find the source of the voice. It sure sounds like Dieter, but you can't tell if it's the cotton wool stuffed inside your own head, or some weird voice he's putting on in preparation for his next role that's making him sound entirely off.

He's there, you're sure of it, your heart pounding in your chest as you wheeze and stare up at a Dieter shaped blur you're certain is wearing a balklava.

You cough again before you speak, your voice a weak rasp of what it usually is, razor blades slicing up your throat as you force the words out.

"Dee? I've got your mail, and those clothes from the designer, and -"

He's coming closer, taking the steps slowly, coming in to focus then wobbling back out of it as you blink rapidly at him and heave in another pained breath.

"You're sick."

Usually you'd argue with him. You take just about any opportunity to talk back to him, just like he does with you. It's how you work so well together. Even now, your head is indignantly saying no. You are not sick. You are perfectly fine and if he could just get off your ass, that'd be wonderful.

But, you are sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact was, you couldn't be sick. Not now. Not this week.

"- your laundry -"

"You're sick."

Any argument is lost in your throat as another cough drags itself out of you, kicking and screaming, forcing you to hinge over again just to stop the force of it all from knocking you flat on your ass. Dieter is retreating up the stairs a little as you watch stars dance across your eyes with each forceful hack of air from your lungs, and even through the pain and lack of oxygen you can sense he feels uneasy about this, about you, and for the first time you think you may have made a mistake.

You shouldn't have come here.

You should have called, or sent a text, and worked from home where you could stay in bed, keeping your germs to yourself and away from him.

When your cough finally eases off again, your head pounding now and your throat burning more than it has in days, you lift yourself up, and admit defeat.

"Okay," you wheeze. "I'll go. I'm - fuck, sorry - I'll call you later. Let me know if you need anything."

Your head spins as you turn, and Dieter thunders down a few more steps before abruptly stopping as you hobble back to the door.

"No!" he shouts down the stairs the moment your hand touches the handle.

You look back at him confused, as he stands there, still keeping his distance, but reaching for you as if force of will alone could stop you in your tracks. And, in a way, it does. You turn to him, propping yourself up on the door, watching him as he tries not to recoil from you, especially now that he can see you up close.

You'd been pallid when you left the house. Now, you felt positively gray. Though you felt cold to the touch, your insides felt like you were roasting alive. No doubt, a few steps closer as he is, he can see the sweat beading on your forehead simply from the effort of keeping yourself standing there and not sliding down the door into a heap on the floor.

"You can't fuckin' drive in this state," he says, flapping his hands at you as his mind kicks into overdrive. "You're sick. You'll crash your fuckin' car. You need rest, and soup, and drugs - the good kind - and a doctor, I should call a doctor, you need to get better, you can't be sick, I can't - because I nee - lo- no!- care - " he stops himself, his mouth flapping as he stares and gesticulates in your general direction before letting his arms flop at his sides.

"I am not getting a new assistant," he settles with, hugging his arms tight around his body.

Before you can tell him he's stuck with you as his assistant whether he likes you or not, another cough beats its way out of your chest, and you slump against the door. Dieter is on you in a second, his balaklava'd face coming into view as he holds you gently by the shoulders as you splutter.

"You - you gotta get in bed. Now."

He's panicking, you know that much. He's never so much as seen you with a hangover, let alone seen you sick. So, you let him guide you upstairs, watching you with wild eyes through the balaklava as you wheeze at the stop of the staircase.

You let him pull you down the hallway, and push you into a spare room. You barely register his hands helping you peel away sweaty layer after sweaty layer of clothing until you're being guided into a soft bed, the sheets being pulled gently over you until you sink into the plush pillows and fall alseep before he's even left the room.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

When you wake, some minutes or some hours later, you're not sure, it's to shuffling in the corner of the room. The handle of the door clicks before it slowly swings inward - that horror movie creak only playing in your head though fitting perfectly with the scene you're watching in front of you. When the door is half open, a shaggy head pokes around the frame, before shuffling in on croc covered feet, cardigan wrapped tightly around itself and mask replacing the balaklava he'd so hastily thrown on earlier.

"Dee?" you croak from the bed, failing to sit up as the weight of the blankets holds you down.

"Stay back," comes his muffled voice from beneath the mask as he shuffles in further. He walks to a dresser kept by the wall. There's nothing in it. There's nothing in this entire room except for empty furniture and blank walls. The only time it sees any action is after some of Dieter's more frivoulous parties, when one too many people can't make it home and need a place to crash. In essence, it's the spare room to the spare rooms spare room - not the guest room, or his room, or the room he'd designated as yours some years ago, that's down the hall next to his own, but the last of three rooms that sit empty nearly year round.

Dieter tugs on the dresser, his crocs gripping to the floor as he yanks it away from the wall and pushes it with a squeak all the way across the floor toward the side of the bed you're trapped in.

"Stay there," is all he says before he leaves you again, the giant piece of furniture slotted right up against the bedside. You couldn't move even if you wanted to, and now he's all but blocked in your easiest way of escape. You weren't going anywhere.

A moment later he's shuffling back in, a tray in his hands and what you think is an umbrella under his arm. He's staring carefully down at the tray - balance and dexterity having never been his strong suit - before placing it gently onto the dresser.

"Tea," he grunts, pointing to the tray, "that lemon ginger shit. Some other stuff too."

It's at the end of the dresser, beyond your feet, and not really of any use to you right now, but the sentiment is nice, especially coming from Dieter.

"Thanks, Dee."

He grunts again, shrugging his cardigan covered shoulders before taking the umbrella from under his arm and gently pushing the tray along the top of the dresser until it's within arms reach of you. When he's done, he nods to himself before backing out of the room, and closing the door. You hear the faint sounds of jesus fucking christ being muttered from the other side of the door as he walks away, no doubt to have a shower and rid himself of as many of your germs as he can before he goes about practicing lines and keeping himself busy.

That lemon ginger shit is smelling divine as you lay there, slowly peeling your arms out from the sweaty confines of the sheets. The soothing heat of it is just what you need - if you hadn't forced the stuff on him so many times in the past, you'd be stunned that he even thought of it himself.

Sitting up, an ache in your hips like no other, you groan and reach for the tea, taking a small burning mouthful, and swallowing it down with a gasp before taking another, then another, then another. The burn soothes the raw feeling in your throat, and when you can finally swallow a little more freely, if only for a second, you take a chance to look at the tray Dieter left with you.

Some other stuff, is an understatement.

There's bottled water, snacks undoubtedly taken directly from the stash you keep in his kitchen, plus a few of his own that he knows you steal when he's not looking. Then, there's what can only be described as a miniature pharmacy. Tissues, nasal sprays, throat lozenges, tylenol, cough syrup, and little packets of Liquid IV lined up on the tray for you to take your pick of.

It's exactly the kind of thing you've done for him countless times before when he's been holed up in bed, too sick or too hungover to deal with the world. Now, here he was doing it for you just as dutifuly as you ever had for him. He'd even gone as far to get dressed and leave the house, driving to a pharmacy just for you. You knew for a fact he didn't keep half of this stuff in the house, and neither did you.

Before you know it, your throat is constricting and your lip is wobbling, but another burst of pain rips its way through your chest as you cough again, and again, and again. Your eyes water, the tears forgotten, until the cough subsides. You'll cry later, when your throat hurts a little less and you have the energy. For now, you throw back some tylenol, finish your tea, and flop back down into the sheets, ready for sleep to take you once more.

Over the course of a few days, though you barely see his face again, you know he's been in to check on you by what he's left for you on the tray. A hot bowl of soup and soft bread. More tea. A bowl of yogurt and fruit when sunlight creeps through the cracks in the blinds. A stack of books. His iPad, loaded up with movies and TV shows that you're not sure were always on here, or if he downloaded them just for you. Fresh towels so you can take the most exhausting shower of your life, only to come back out to find underwear and one of Dieter's old worn movie tees waiting for you. Then there's more tea. More food.

He cares for you from a distance, day in day out, until your cough turns to a splutter, and you can breath a little deeper. And so can he.

Around the third day, when you're no longer coughing and feeling far more like yourself, but still too exhausted to do much of anything, you finally see Dieter's face again. He silently herds you into the room he calls yours, shuttering the windows as you crawl under the sheets, and curls into bed behind you.

"You smell different when you're sick," he mumbles into your neck. "Fuckin' hate it."

"Sorry," you whisper back to him in the dark. "I showered, but I -"

"No. You smell different. Sick different. Not gross different. Didn't smell like you."

Smiling into the dark, you let him snuggle into you as you drift off into the most restful sleep either of you have had in days.

tagging my Dieter beloveds: @schnarfer @missredherring @whatsnewalycat @sp00kymulderr @ozarkthedog

@ghotifishreads @rebel-held @amanitacowboy @readingiskeepingmegoing

[iluvbell]

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝑯𝒄𝒔

Sleeping;

Feel like he's sometimes annoying when he sleeps

He's not like other book bfs where he's just clingy and cuddly,

No no, this man will probably be snoring one second and then a cute, little, cuddly, menace, the next

He'll snore sometimes, but softly (not too loud bc I can't have one of my fav fictional characters giving me the ick)

He'll just be sprawled across the bed, gripping your hand in his sleep, snoring softly, and just saying a bunch of shit that doesn't make sense (incoherent queen 😩🥺)

Poetic bastard;

Mr. "By you I am forever undone", has some tricks up his sleevessss

He'll randomly try to rizz you up with his Shakespearean ass vocabulary when you guys are finally in a established relationship

I can't think of anything poetic he might say so I'll leave it at that for now

So cute and demure in the human world;

He wouldn't really know what anything is when he visits,

So you'd definitely need to teach him,

But strangely enough he knows random ass shit like Lana deal Rey and Taylor Swift

He'd be like "Yeah, ig these mortals have tolerable music",

Meanwhile he blasts Red (Taylor's Version) at any minor inconvenience

Like ok, Mr. "Well maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up"

Like yeah ok, Mr. "Perfectly fine" after you guys have a small ass disagreement and he's already halfway through Norman Fucking Rockwell

I love him.

These were random ass headcanons and I was gonna do spicy ones but idc bc it's almost 3 am

Let me know if I should do spicy headcanons bc I already have some creative ideas that include his tail...

[cryptcutiee]

Karma Is My Boyfriend

Pairing: Leon Kennedy X Reader (gender neutral) Synopsis: In search of good karma, you do a random act of kindness by paying for the coffee of whoever comes in behind you. That person ends up being a rather attractive man. Tags: Fluff, Comfort Warnings: Use of pet names (sweetheart, sweet thing), age gap (if you squint) Song: Karma - Taylor Swift Word Count: 1.6K Author's Notes: Ahhh hello Tumblr! I haven't posted any writing in a very long time. This is my very first fic on this account, but I do have more in the works. So if you want to see more from me or a part 2 to this, lmk! This is my first x reader story in years so comments and feedback is appreciated!

The day had barely started, yet everything that could go wrong was going wrong. Alarms you set decided not to go off. You had burned your breakfast. The hot water in your shower lasted a total of two minutes before it plunged you into an ice-cold drizzle. Clothes you wanted to put on had mysteriously vanished into thin air. You had dressed in attire you didn't want to wear when it started to rain as you were leaving. It was a bunch of little things adding up to a horrible morning. That didn't bode well for your luck today, which made you worry. Today was significant. You were waiting to hear back from that apartment complex. You needed to get approved for it. The current studio you were living in was crap, and this place would be a major upgrade. With how your day was going, your hope was at an all-time low.

This is how you found yourself standing across the counter from your best friend at the local coffee shop. They were a barista here, and although gossiping on work hours should be frowned upon, they always had time for you. Besides, it seemed slow today. Nobody was in line, and the few patrons lingering around were sitting at tables chatting or working. So you vented about your entire morning as your friend took down your coffee order. You got your usual which was no surprise. With the way your day was going, why would you try something new?

Your friend's eyebrows quirked up at how much of a nightmare your morning had been. "Sounds like you're having a bad energy day."

You leaned against the counter with a deadpan expression. "No shit Sherlock. Normally I wouldn't care, but I can't afford for today to be a bad day! At this rate, I'm going to get denied." You groaned. Anxiety was eating at you, and with how everything had been going, you had little faith in good news.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Your best friend pulled your attention back, "Thinking like that will just make it worse. What if you put some good energy out there, you know, like karma or something?"

You blinked as you took in their words. Karma? You understood the concept of it. Doing bad would attract bad, and doing good would attract good. A sigh left your lips as you stared across the checkout at your friend. "How do you suggest I go about that?" You're sliding your debit card across the counter as you stare them down, waiting for whatever idea they have.

Your friend put on their thinking face, and within moments their expression lit up with an idea. "What about a random act of kindness? You could pay for whoever comes in next!"

The idea rattled around in your brain for a moment. It wasn't like you believed in supernatural forces, but what exactly did you have to lose? "Fine, charge the next person's order to my card. Please don't make a big deal out of it though! I'm not doing it for recognition."

"You got it! Now go wait over by the pickup end. I'll get your order out."

With a nod to your friend, you moved over to the pickup area. Your fingers drummed against the counter anxiously. Eyes darting down to your phone as you waited for that email from the apartment complex. You could hear the bell on the door as you scrolled through your notifications. You listened to your friend speaking to what sounded like a man, but you kept your eyes stuck to your screen. He ordered a black coffee, and then your best friend said the words that made you focus more on the conversion feet away from you.

"I'm happy to say your order today has already been covered!"

When you looked up to see who you had paid for, you may have encountered one of the most attractive men you have ever seen. He had to be older than you, but he looked like he took care of himself. His shirt clung to his fit form, and those arms looked like they could pop a seam on his sleeves. Maybe karma did exist because the universe had just dropped this gorgeous sight right into your lap.

"Oh?" The man's low timber caused something to crawl down your spine. "By who?"

You could see the gears turning in your best friend's brain on how to answer the question. They knew what you asked for but could also witness your reactions from the sidelines. "By the person who ordered before you."

The man quickly put the pieces together, and his eyes glanced at you, the only person waiting for their order.

Mentally you were screaming and cursing at your friend for putting you in this situation, but at the same time, you were thanking them. As if to send the message home, they called out your name and slid your coffee order to you. Your eyes met his, and you felt your stomach do a flip. His eyes were breathtaking. If you looked too long, you thought you'd drown in them. With all the courage in your bones, you mustered an awkward smile. Hand reaching over to grab your coffee, you noticed out of the corner of your eye as the man moved toward you.

"Hey." A slight smile touched his lips as he approached, "Were you the one that paid for my coffee?" He knew it was you, and there was no point in lying to this stunning man.

"Yeah, I did. Don't worry. It was nothing." You replied, trying to shrug it off. "I just wanted to pay it forward. Trying to get some good luck." That same embarrassed smile glued to your face. Talking to this man wasn't in your cards today, but it was going better than everything else this morning.

"I can't just let you do that without introducing myself. I'm Leon, Leon Kennedy." Leon extended his hand out. Your own wrapped around his for a handshake while introducing yourself. "Why are you looking for good luck? Something wrong, sweetheart?"

Your free hand shot up in denial. "Oh no, nothings wrong! I'm waiting for an important email. It's to see if I got approved for this apartment I applied for." There was no reason for you to be telling Leon all of this. He was a stranger, but he was easy to open up to. "My morning was a disaster, and I didn't want the bad luck to continue, so my friend suggested I do something for good karma." You gestured to the barista in the background, your best friend. "Sorry, that all sounds a little silly."

"Not at all." The corner of Leon's lips lifts into a smirk." It's cute, honestly." Those blue eyes of his glimmered with interest as he spoke. It caused butterflies to flutter in your tummy. Suddenly your nerves aren't about the email. They're more about the man in front of you. "Do you have any plans today? I hope I'm not holding you up."

As fast as you can, you shake your head in response. "You aren't! I don't have anything to do today except wait." You watch as your friend delivers the black coffee Leon ordered. Their eyes glance at you with a knowing look. When Leon turns his back to them, they give you a thumbs up before scurrying back to the checkout.

"Then you'll let me repay you by grabbing dinner with me?" Leon grabbed his coffee, a sure look in his eyes. "It's the least I can do for a sweet thing like you, besides it'll get your mind off that email."

Did you just get asked out by some guy you bought coffee for? He was undoubtedly good-looking and had effortless charisma. Saying no would be a mistake. "Sure!" You automatically flush at how enthusiastic you sound. "I mean, that sounds like a nice distraction."

Leon let out a faint chuckle. "I usually get turned down. Maybe I have all the good karma today." Your eyes meet as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You like Italian? I know a good place, my treat."

"I do." Your lips curl into a soft smile. "Do you want to exchange numbers? Here." You open a fresh contact page on your phone and hold the device towards him. Your fingers brush against his as you pass your phone over to Leon. It causes a light blush to paint your features, and you can only hope he doesn't notice. As he's putting his number in, the faint chime of your notification tone rings out. 

Leon's eyes dart to the pop-up, and he grins. "Looks like I'm your good luck charm." He comments, passing the phone back to you. 

Your eyes automatically search the screen and see an email notification. The apartment complex approved you. A wide smile breaks out on your face. "I guess you are, Leon. Maybe I should keep you around." You can feel his blue eyes on you as you say that.

"Maybe you should." There's a beat of silence between the two of you. It suddenly feels like you got trapped in some romance novel. "So, celebration dinner then? Send me your address, and I'll pick you up at seven." Leon breaks the silence with that intoxicating tone of his.

"That works for me! I'll text you."

Exiting the coffee shop, you feel much better than when you arrived. Your newest contact, Leon, is on the screen, and you can't get that smile off your face.

Karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me.

[allthedamnlove]

AQUAMARINE: RAFE CAMERON X SOFIA FANFICTION: CHAPTER 1

Wordcount: 4k words

Prologue

Radio for this chapter:

18 MONTHS AGO

Sofia's POV

I, Sofia Ramirez, never really thought that in my twenty years of life would end up as a bartender in a fuck all country club where I hear gringos talk about stuff that doesn't even matter at the end of the day. Every time I go near a table to get their finished “whiskey neat” “Old fashioned.” cocktail glasses with fingerprints imprinted as if they were on a crime scene, I have invented a guessing game of “What are these greasy old white men talking about?”

I have a set of permutations and combinations: 

How much will this deal pull through?

Man, crazy that those Pogues own that land; we should get a lawyer to annex the shit out of it.

My wife has been slacking, man. Not fucking me good anymore or worse, says, “I’m not in the mood.”

God, I need a drink. Or a cigarette

If it was women, it would go like 

Ohhh! I really want that new Van Cleef, but Daddy ended up buying that Cartier bracelet for me.

Ugh, bestie!!! I wanted that new Rhode smoothie, but there are no fuckass cute cafes, even on the Kook side.

I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me (this is valid, and they probably deserve to run men through a tar road)

Girl, I need a drink.

First world problems, lemme tell you.

You might ask, what about me then?

Well, I wait tables around here, as you probably would have known. I also bartend if the boss asks me to. And I clean the floor and the tables and sometimes take care of the register.

At this point, I am running this bar like the Navy, but nobody wants to talk about it.

Is the pay worth it? Nope, absolute-fucking-not. I work for nearly nine hours a day and get paid only two and a half dollars per hour. I don’t get extra sick days except for the allotted 12 days a week, and half of the tips go to the owner officially….wink. And I smell like yeast every day after my shift.

Yay. I am so happy.

 Bullshit.

At least I get to see mid to okayish-looking white men. Occasionally, other races, but hey, who am I fooling here? Most of the people frequenting here have zero percent of melanin. 

It was a slow day at the pristine country club, with its tall false ceilings and fancy glass upholstery and lighting, a huge white marble counter encircling the veranda with shell white and pastel green chairs and tables fit snugly on the granite floor which I clean every day that I see my own reflection. 

Which I am doing right now. 

My feet were gliding on the slippery wet floor as I saw myself scrubbing the white tile which was stained with “your finest Bloody Mary please!”  the blood-red stain laughing in my face. I am tired and exasperated and I need a drink. That I didn’t make with my own hands. I looked up as the summer breeze made my stray hairs encounter my eyes; my vision blessed with one of the most picturesque sunsets I have ever witnessed after settling in Outer Banks. The golden Sun was muted orange now, glistening as the white tufts of clouds were colored inside by the marine blue sky. For a moment then, everything felt right.

“SOFIA, GO DOWNSTAIRS TO THE INVENTORY AND GET ME A BOTTLE OF THAT OLD RUM”

Spoke too soon. 

I turned towards the source of the source and there he was, my boss.

Benjamin Alexander Portridge. Long name. I know. Everyone around the town calls him Mr. Portridge. But all of us working in the bar called him Benny Bitch behind his back. He is the textbook definition of a schmooze. Five feet tall, unnaturally thin with his pinstripe pants and suit and an eerie gold pin with a bear engraved on it resting on his breast pocket that he wears every day like a magician at a circus, if you are a Kook with some cha-ching on your purse he would snag, grab and treat you like you are his next wife or something. He would “warmly” welcome you with a “Good evening, gentleman. How can I help you?” with him trailing over them like a hawk. Then he would sweet-talk them, talking about “da birds and da bees” and switch over like a chameleon; slowly collecting all the dirty laundry of Kooks who smile and make small talk with him. 

It's too bad he doesn’t air it out to us. He just zooms around and pierces you with his look while you’re pouring drinks and most importantly when we collect money, his snake eyes follow the line of money. And he screams out orders when no one is around. 

I wobbled and carefully stood on the floor, slowly placing the “Don’t Walk, Slippery Floor” sign, I saw a fuzz of blonde walking right into the area, her hot pink headphones bobbing along with her strawberry blonde bob, navy blue skirt swaying as she strutted with no care. I can hear Ayesha Erotica blasting through her phone.

“MISSY, DON’T WALK INTO THE WET FLOOR”

“WHAT, SOF, WAIT, OH-”

Her right foot dramatically went up in the air while she scrambled to keep her weight steady for a hot minute, failed miserably, and fell with a soft yet powerful THUD.

“OW!” she let out a small yelp as she was rubbing her bruised hands on her uniform, her butt still planted on the wet floor. I slowly walked near her, careful not to fall flat on my ass, helping her stand steady and taking her near to the bar counter. 

“Sofia, girl why didn’t you tell me you were cleaning? Oh, my ass, my ass.”

I threw my head back, exasperated. I literally put up a sign that wrote “SLIPPERY FLOOR” in black, bold letters” in front of her eyes. And I told her exactly that.

“Missy, look in front of you, there is a sign called ‘WET FLOOR’”

“Fine. I heard Benny Bitch call for something, that’s why I came back from my cig break” she said in her airy voice, dusting off any ashes from her white polo uniform. Lia “Missy” Robinson is a character, alright. A loud, boisterous, chain smoker, changes her hair color based on the weather (this is true, she even explained her mechanism once on a break) and is a “proud Gemini” because “Gemini’s are crucified everywhere and I, for one, think that’s bullshit” (her words, not mine), Missy was the first person I met when I came to work here in the fine establishment (I am baring my molars when I am saying this, by the way) of Pelican Bay Country Club (I mean who even names a club like that?) two months ago at Outer Banks. Benny told me that I needed a mentor when I started out and he “appointed” Missy, (whatever that’s supposed to mean) and all she did was, flick her cigarette on the floor and said 

“Olives may be stale but those idiots don’t know that so don’t hesitate to give them that. If anyone comes at you for making the drink wrong, just put extra tequila on it. If a fight happens, see if they start to punch each other and if you see blood, then call Benny. And if you want to smoke, there’s a basement room right next to the inventory. Finally, welcome to hell. And I like the bangs. Keep it.” she motioned towards my hair.

She’s cool and doesn’t take shit from anyone which I like since sometimes my shy self can get flustered whenever some customers get a bit unsavory and try saying, “I CAN NOT BELIEVE WE ARE LETTING POGUES TO MAKE US DRINKS, YOU ARE SHIT AT EVERYTHING YOU DO” 

“No, he asked me to get rum from downstairs.”

“Well damn, I fell on my ass for nothing then. It’s fine, I’ll go get it for you. I came all the way from sexting my neighbor for this, might as well make myself useful.”

Oh, I forgot to tell you, Missy is synonymous with Too Much Information. 

Even though I really don’t want to go to the basement for the tenth time today, I am a bit unsure about letting a “butt-hurt” Missy get hurt again or worse, get her hands cut by dropping the bottle.

“Are you sure, Missy? I don’t mind”

“Positive”

“Ok, then….but take the one from the top shelf. Otherwise, I’ll be the one staying late having another “mixologist” revision.”

She struggled to get up from the barstool so I helped her up again and she ambled her way to the basement; leaving me alone with only Jeremy on the bar. He works with me on the counter during my shifts, we are not friends or even acquaintances but we just wave at each other and relay messages to each other during work.

That’s the definition of a colleague. And I just realized that. 

It’s not that I don’t want to be alone with him, it’s just that it gets so awkward when we are alone in between shifts or when cleaning the place. He doesn’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about him except the fact that he owns a pet tarantula named “Gary” from some crocodile hunter in “Animal Planet” (he mentioned it to me when an old Kook spotted a spider outside the club and screamed, “OH MY GOD, THERE ARE BLOOD SUCKING HEATHENS HERE!!! I AM NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS CLUB.”)

And it’s way too overdue to ask him about his life and vice versa. So we just work in silence or I blast my headphones high to avoid the tension. There’s no such thing as comfortable silence when you’re with people. 

Begrudgingly, I passed by the uniformly arranged chairs and made my way to the lockers located way inside, past the attached kitchen which serves “elevated bar food” in the evenings. As I went inside the stuffy room resembling the gym locker room minus the stench with its seafoam green walls, I saw my other “colleagues” and janitors standing in pairs of two to four, gossiping and applying light makeup to their faces. Their heads swiveled towards me as I came in, everyone collectively saying “Hi, Sofia” and then going on with their lives. After chirping in a squeaky “Hello!” back, I reached my locker, its rusty blue door littered with photos of all the people I hold close to my heart: a family photo of my mamá and papá standing in front of a cathedral in Mexico; that was them on their wedding day; an old photo of my abuelas posing with my thirteen-year-old self wearing a baby pink tutu and a polaroid of my two hermanas Isabella and Alejandra and my brother Theo smiling at the camera holding our cat, Mishmish. I smiled looking at their pure laughs spilling from the photo and opened my locker, taking out my face wash and towel from my cherry-red handbag.

I gave up a lot for them. It doesn’t mean it stopped hurting when I stopped dreaming but the fact that I am able to help my ma put food on the table or at least try to lessen her burden is more than enough for me. All I can do is get through every day, hoping that I can stop surviving and start living. 

My introspections got cut off as my ears caught onto two waiters gossiping in the common washroom, my eyes closed and hands automatically washing off the suds of my face as I half-heartedly listened to them. 

“No way he is back”

“Yes way, Tammy told me that she saw Rafe Cameron at Tannyhill when she was walking Mrs. Daisy’s dog”

Oh, I have heard of him. 

Rafe Cameron. 

I vaguely remember his dad’s name coming up on the news some time ago or maybe my dad told me about him sometimes passing in a random conversation. The notorious Kook Prince. Never seen him though. I only know of him through other’s opinions of him and safe to say, that nobody likes him. Not from what I heard anyway. 

“Oh, but his dad is dead and he and his family disappeared off the face of the Earth and now he’s back…after two months…that’s suspicious as fuck”

“You know him, that cokehead must have done something. Too bad, looks hot as fuck but truly a wasted potential”

I wanted to eavesdrop more but then stopped myself. I have a shift in ten minutes and I hate inserting myself in other people’s business and plus I don’t want to hear Katya talk about her periods as she stopped talking about drama altogether. Who knows, maybe I’ll see this infamous guy one day and see for myself if he’s “fuckable or not” (again, not my words)

Oh, if only I knew. 

*****************

The club was packed tonight in spite of its spacious open space floor; a sea of beiges, pastel shades, and tan pants flooded my senses; my eyes and feet dizzy from the dim lighting and my feet haphazardly dancing on the granite, palms barely holding onto the huge wooden plates containing a plethora of drinks and poisons of all sorts: you name it, I have it my hand and I’ll probably drop it on some Kook’s head if I don’t get a break. 

Such is the life of an underpaid bartender. God, I need to go home. 

Exhaustion pushed me as I slowly went inside my safe space, on the other side of the counter. I mean, it’ll still hurt but I don’t have to look like a circus elephant running on a ball when I am just pouring drinks and manning the counter. Jeremy came barrelling towards me, sweat and all silently screaming, “You take care here, I’ll go serve the drinks”

I gotta hand it to him, no matter the awkward glances. He’s running this place like Benny is going to give him the keys to the bar next Saturday. And I respect him for that. Everybody calls him a weirdo but he’s always been reliable to the T. Helping me with the accounts, serving customers at lightning speed and sometimes he stays until I leave my shift which I always felt was sweet. Or maybe it’s creepy and I still don’t know how to take cues from strangers. But all I said was a small, “Okay!”

So here I am, serving the nth Long Island Teas to a throng of women adorning body-con dresses chatting up about the next big party happening in the Bahamas and how they should totally look up all the restaurants in the cruise. The back of my hand swept across my sweaty forehead, a pristine fake smile plastered on my face, and deftly moved my shaker as I made another Cosmo for another customer. My hands were gangly, ready to give out but I kept saying “Just 30 mins more, just 30 mins” like a mantra as I broke the ice from the icebox into a perfect rectangular cube, dropped it on the sherry glass and swiftly poured the drink from my shaker and twisting an orange peel on the rim of the glass, my hands shaky as I gave the drink to the lone woman scrolling Instagram chirping, “One Cosmo Ready”

As she graced me with a polite smile, I recognized that the bar rush slowed down; leaving with only a bunch of people standing around. My lungs caved in peace, and finally some rest. 

Or so I thought. 

You know the infamous trope where your eyes meet someone, you know that they are going to change your life forever, well I felt that was an anomaly, maybe it’s true but I feel that’s just attraction you know, or infatuation, but life-changing?

I don’t thi-

I didn't meet the love of my life in some grand fashion, like dancing in the rain or dropping my books onto his feet or the classic colliding on each other’s shoulders. I met him as I was dying my hands on a dish towel, hearing a loud call from a distance screaming, “RAFE CAMERON IS BACK BABY”

I turned around and there he was in his six-foot glory, the man I knew from whispers. 

Rafe Cameron. 

He walked over languidly, with Topper Thorton hand’s resting on his bicep like a loose branch; his arms and entire body swinging as he welcomed his supposed friend with loud, rumbling cheers. Topper was clearly inebriated or the folks say, pissed as hell.

But the first thing my eyes caught on about Rafe Cameron was his eyes. 

They were eerily blue. 

No, not just blue.

They were Aquamarine. 

The pair walked over my direction, to the counter, Rafe sporting a small smile as his unsteady feet went back and forth, his mouth mumbling nonsense as he stopped right in front of my eyeline. Now that I can see him in all his entirety under the blinding warm lights, my brain conjured so many miniscule details about this perfect stranger like the small mole on the back of his left palm, the million freckles that littered his face, short blonde buzzcut ending just inches from his nape, broad shoulders sporting a navy blue and white checkered shirt, grey linen pants with those black Oxford’s; the smell of cigarettes and fresh mint gum on his breath, fingers drumming up on the marble counter in a non-uniform staccato; aquamarine eyes holding a tornado of emotions that I can’t even grasp. And that damn head tilt he graced me as he said to me, 

“Hi, can I get an old-fashioned?”

Fuck, Naya was right. He looks gorgeous. 

“Coming right up” Now that I think about it, I didn’t even recognize that my voice reached that high when I squeaked that response.

He just smiled at me, nodding in understanding. I tried to be nonchalant, not making eye contact as my body mechanically reached up to the whiskey cabinet behind me. As I tipped over to reach the Jack Daniels Bottle, I could physically sense his eyes on me, scrutinizing my every move. My stance faltered, hands more shaky than usual as I gripped the glass bottle with all my strength, moving right back to my initial position. I can mix an old-fashioned in my sleep at this point, but for some reason, I was not feeling my mojo today. Instead, my feelings were having an out-of-body experience of being…shy for no reason. As I bent down the counter to get the muddle, I heard him say, 

“I have never seen you around here before, you new here?”

I shot right back up, muddle in my left hand and my heart in my other. 

“Umm...depends on how you define new. I started working here around two months ago.” I replied, trying not to meet his eyes. 

“Oh ok, then you are new here. I haven’t been here for three months so yeah, that’s why I didn’t recognize you….Miss?”

He was nearly crowding the counter now, hands on the marble and his face fairly near mine. His eyes wandered to my chest and I was going to have a heart attack at that very moment. Then I realized what he was doing. 

He was looking for my name badge. The badge I forgot to wear today. 

Shit.

“Sofia” 

“Well, Sofia, I am sure that you know my name…” 

Of course. The cokehead, fuckup, nepo-baby of Outer Banks. Bad News. But I didn't tell him that. I just played along with him.

“Oh, I mean I have heard about you but I don’t know for sure if that’s what your name is…I don’t wanna presume, you know”

He was full-on smirking now, “No, no, tell me what you think my name is, I don’t mind being misnamed” 

I tilted my head a bit, putting my fingers on my face, feigning deep thought, “Is it…Ralph, or Rocky or I don’t know, Ryan?”

His mouth went agape and his hands clutched his chest laughing, “Nope, I think you know my name, and by the way, do I even look like my name would be Ryan? God, that would be a disgrace” 

“Sorry, Mr. Rafe. I thought you looked like a Ryan. My deepest, most sincere apologies for the wrong assumptions” I was measuring the bitters now and pouring it into the drink. 

“Hmm…apology half accepted ‘cuz I’ll see if I wanna grant you my full apology after I judge your drink” 

I let out a breathy chuckle as I broke the ice, again, gently stirring the drink, “We’ll see” 

His attention was centered on me now, his focus zeroing on my hands and the way they twisted the single lemon peel around and twirled it on the rim of his glass. I was trembling inside, hoping to God that he wouldn’t catch my countenance stumbling and falling under his gaze. With steady hands and a frenzy heart, I gave the whiskey glass to the blue-eyed man, his hands feathered over my fingers as he took it from me. My hands felt a zap as if I touched lightning with my fingertips. His fingers were not baby-soft like most Kooks since their palms have never touched anything that makes them sweat or even work. His fingers were slightly calloused, my hands feeling the slight ridges of skin peeling off just from a moment of touch.

Fuck, why am I hyper-ventilating. 

This feeling is so unlike my usual range of emotions about Kooks from passivity to anger to slight envy about their riches, shiny gold watches, and their airiness about life that comes with money. And he is the wealthiest of them all. It’s not like my heart is beating like I need to marry this guy tomorrow rather like a wave of curiosity and a lick of infatuation encasing like no other. 

The side of his mouth turned to a slight smicker as he downed the first gulp of my drink, faking a deep thought for a minute as he replied, “Not bad, Ms.Sofia. Not bad at all.”

I was trying to look busy, looking at the blank screen of the bar computer and clicking any buttons as I said, “Told you. Now, can you apologize? Mister Rafe…”

“Cameron. And I do apologize Miss Sofia…?”

I still don’t remember why I said that whacky reply as I looked straight up at stuttered, “Cameron”

Now why did I say that? He was full-on smiling now, clutching the glass in his hands as he said, “Sofia Cameron, sounds like I should have known before ‘cuz you have my last name too.”

I was fumbling so badly, “NO, NO. It’s Ramirez. I’m Sofia Ramirez”

He was slowly shaking his head as he extended his hand to me, “Ok then, Sofia Ramirez. I take your apology in full payment. Shake on it?”

I looked around from side to side, hoping that Benny Bitch wasn’t near me as my hands snaked onto his for a firm handshake, feeling his rough yet delicate hands on mine. Fuck, I need to calm down. 

I was crashing out as I chucked, “You know this is bullshit right. What are we even doing right now?”  

“I don’t know, I thought I was trying to chat up the new bartender of the country club.”

“Well, you should stop 'cause my shift ends in like” I glanced at my imaginary wristwatch as I said, “Now. It’s nice to meet Rafe but I gotta clock out. Hope you have a good night…drinking.” 

He turned around while sitting on the barstool, raising his glass in response, “I will, Miss Sofia. Good night”

As I rushed towards the small outdoor from the counter with my satchel in clutch and my battered white Keds hot on the floor, I could feel Rafe’s eyes hovering over me, gazing at every movement I made, every breath I took. I felt pink with all this attention on me. 

I practically sprinted my way to the main reception as I went up to Maria, the receptionist; signed my name on the register, and reached my beat-down cherry-red Pontiac, Betty. I shut the car door so fast, that my stray hair went flying up to my eyes. God, this is the second time this happened today. 

The car roared to life, as I put my feet on the gas; the radio blasting a random tune. I cranked it up high, not really ready to ruminate over everything that just materialized minutes ago. I heard a pop song playing on the FM, not knowing what specific song it was 

“A very humble apology to talk mid-song but I just wanted the very good evening to all the lovely Outer Banks listeners, this is Bianca Richardson from XOXO FM 207.34. On this fine Wednesday night, I wanna call all the Swifties to sing along to this fine-ass tune so enjoy listening to Gorgeous by my favorite, Taylor Swift”

I hate the cruel play of time. 

“Ocean blue eyes 

Looking in mine

I feel like I might 

Sink and drown and die”

As the song went with only the late July breeze keeping me company, I was naively unaware that my life completely changed that night. As I caught a glimpse of the coastline beside the straight road through the side view mirror, my mind lingered on the color of the waves crashing on the beach. 

They were as blue as his eyes.

***************

Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

HEYYO, Long time no see!!! I am so sorry for the very late update. Life kicked me several times so I needed a long nap. Well here we are, with the first official chapter of the fic. Please please let me know how's the chap cuz I want to improve my writing as much as I can.

By the way, l wanna switch pov's and see what works best but for this one, I chose Sofia's pov. AGAIN LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO SO APPRECIATED, but seriously every time you guys say anything I genuinely feel fireworks in my heart, thank u for your support.

This is just the beginning, you guys are in for a LONG RIDE. I am taking an hour every day for this fic so I'll be trying to update the next chapter as soon as possible even though I am very tight with college and life.

Byeee. Love youuu :)))))))))))

Please lemme know if you wanna be on the tag list.

[jessmaybank]

Cardigan - part two; heartbeat on the high line

Based on the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Series masterlist

Navigation

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Rafe has a skeleton in his closet, and it all gets revealed during a party on the cut.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, drug dealing, cheating, SMUT, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, being tied up (hands only).

AN: jealousy & hella angst in this one. Flashbacks are in italics!

She stared at the gift Rafe got her for what felt like hours after everybody left. Her head was telling her not to open it. She had a new boyfriend now, and everyone knows the number one rule is no entertaining ex’s. She had already got way too close to Rafe earlier.

Her heart, on the other hand, begged to know what was inside the box. It was like the devil and the angel weighing on her shoulder, and it was eating her alive.

Eventually she gave into her urges, and ripped the box open. She practically chocked on air as she peered at the contents. It was her favourite gold ring that she had lost last summer, one that she had been looking for ever since. Her lips parted at the realisation that Rafe had it the whole time, and he kept it. Why would he keep it?

She thought back to the times that they would be lying in bed together or sunbathing at the beach, and he would always fiddle with it whilst their hands were intertwined. She flinched at the memory.

“Just one more baby. Your doing so good for me” Rafe hums into her clit, the vibrations making her back arch as she nears the edge for the fourth time that night. Rafe had been devouring her pussy mercilessly for the past thirty minutes.

Her arousal was dripping down her legs like honey as she tugged her arms, begging to run her fingers through his hair, but she couldn’t. He had tied her hands to the headboard of her bed as punishment for her attitude tonight.

He continued lapping his tongue harshly over her clit, maintaining eye contact as her legs began to spasm again, the headboard hitting the wall at her erratic movements. His jaw was aching, but for this view, it was fucking worth it. Her eyes were lidded, her cheeks flushed a deep red, and he had to stop himself from flipping her round and fucking her senseless. “Fuck Rafe”

“That’s it. Cum all over my tongue like a good girl” he says lowly, and her mind spiralled as she followed his command, as obedient as ever. Her moans spilled out of her like a waterfall as she came undone, pulling on the headboard once again as her juices coated Rafe’s tongue. Fuck, she tasted so sweet.

“Holy shit” she exhales, her chest rising and falling in line with her heavy pants. She was exhausted. He untied her hands, and he didn’t miss the way she winced as her wrists became free. “Do they hurt?”

“Only a little” she replies, lying down fully on the mattress. He joined her, laying on his side as he peppered sweet kisses on her sore wrists. “I’m sorry baby“ he says, his voice soft.

“Rafe. You just made me cum four times. You have nothing to be sorry about” she laughs, gawking as how adorable he looked when he was concerned. He really was the epitome of perfect.

She expected a smug response from him, but instead she got a soft grin, which made her insides melt. He started fiddling with the ring on her finger, something he would always do when they were lying down together. He just always felt the need to touch her, whether is was sexual or not. His hair was a mess even though she didn’t touch it, and she couldn’t help but trail her eyes over the freckles on his nose. “I love you”

She said it without a second thought. Without thinking. They had never said I love you before, even though she was pretty sure he felt it too. Her eyes grew wide. Rafe was smiling from ear to ear.

“I love you too baby” he confirms, and if she wasn’t so tired, she could of cried.

She pecked his bruised lips, smiling into the kiss, and it dawned on her then that no one else would ever compare to him. He was it.

Her eyes became glossy as she stared at the piece of jewellery. She hated that something so simple could get to her like this. She hated that as much as she wanted her love for him to become evanesced, she knew it never would. She was too far gone.

She turned her attention away from the box as her phone buzzed. A sinking feeling sat in the pit of her stomach as she realised it wasn’t the person she really wanted to hear from. It was from her boyfriend, Adam.

She ignored his message, coming to the conclusion she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him tonight. And as she let the silence within the room engulf her, she realised she needed to get the hell out of the house.

A friend to all is a friend to none

The air was thick with uncertainty as she gallivanted up the lit driveway, pebbles crunching under her feat as she approached the worn out door, before giving it a half hearted knock. She had called Sarah in need of a distraction, and the blonde offered her one within minutes. Granted, it was a party on the cut, but anything would suffice at this point.

A few minutes later, she found Sarah outside in the garden. As it turned out, she too had a new boyfriend, but she was shook to her core when she discovered he was a pogue. It seemed the kook princess had finally gone rogue, and to be honest, she was here for it.

“This is Pope, Kiara, JJ and John B” Sarah says, gesturing to her friends as she goes round the circle of people which sat on logs in front of them both. The once roaring campfire was now a bunch of extinguished flames, and the air was rather smoky.

“Hey” she greets them, a faint smile gracing her lips as she takes a seat next to the blonde, who she now knew as JJ. She recognised Kiara from school, but other than that, she was clueless. She never really hung around the cut that much before she left for college. “Beer?” JJ says, passing her a can as she nods.

That was the start of a blossoming friendship.

She spoke to the pogues for what felt like hours, and she was pleasantly surprised at how nice they were. When they were together, Rafe would always feed her bullshit about how all pogues are trouble, and she should stay away from them. She felt so guilty for believing him all those years, and she wondered how many other times she had let him brainwash her. Her insides twisted at the thought.

“JJ it doesn’t matter how many times you say it, the Lego movie was not good” Pope says, an amused look on his face as he bickers with his best friend.

“If you had any taste my friend, you would know it’s a timeless classic!” JJ exclaims, his cheeks flushed a deep red. They were all pretty drunk.

“I think timeless classic is a bit of a stretch” Sarah giggles, and everyone laughs with her.

“Uh Sarah, what’s your brother doing here?” Kiara says, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at something, or rather someone, on the porch.

Her heart dropped as she turned her head, and low and behold, there he was, stood on the wooden decking with his hands in his pockets. He wore a smart black button up with black trousers. To a stranger, he made the perfect businessman.

But he wasn’t fooling anyone else. His bruises were now a deep blossom of watercolour blues and purples. His cut lip was still a crimson red mess. Somehow, he still looked breathtaking. Her life would of been so much easier if he wasn’t so beautiful.

The old Rafe wouldn’t have been caught dead on the cut, so what the hell was he doing here?

“Selling, probably” Sarah says, her features contorting with a mixture of disgust and disappointment as she stares at her brother.

It hurt her seeing the way Sarah looked at her brother. Rafe was by no means perfect, and he often made a habit of hurting the ones around him, but he was also deeply misunderstood. His father had made sure of that since the day he was born.

“He’s dealing again?” She questions softly, mouth agape as she did her best to suppress her shocked expression.

Rafe had a complex history with drugs. The last time they were on good terms, before they broke up and she left for college, he promised her he wouldn’t touch them again, whether that was for personal use or not. Perhaps she was naive for believing him in the first place.

“Well, he denied it when I asked him. But John b saw him leaving Barry’s last week” the younger Cameron says, gesturing to her boyfriend who sat next to her.

She frowned in response, pulling on the loose threads of her sweater as she grew anxious. She couldn’t believe he was selling drugs again, and if he was coming all the way to the cut to sell, he must be desperate. Something else was going on.

Rafe tried to hide it, but she saw the way his eyes widened slightly when he spotted them all outside. And although there were more pressing issues to focus on, such as his sister finding all the coke stuffed in his pockets, all he could concentrate on was how close JJ was to her. How he dipped his head down to whisper something in her ear. His eyes narrowed and his featured hardened as he glared at them. He needed to leave before he killed someone.

She peered at the dying embers in front of her as she attempted to take her mind off him and his intimidating presence, trying her best to listen to whatever nonsense JJ was whispering in her ear. Most of the fire consisted of lifeless pieces of ash, but some embers were still glowing a deep red, clinging on for dear life as they fought to stay lit. She wondered then how long she would be able to hold on for, before her heartbreak got the best of her.

She turned her head just in time to watch Rafe’s figure disappear inside. She tried her best to stay still, but it took her a total of two minutes to give into her urges. “I’m ganna go to the toilet. I’ll be back” she says to the pogues, not waiting for a response before she wonders inside.

Chase two girls, lose the one

Her eyes were cold and sharp as she spotted Rafe on the couch, but he wasn’t alone. A girl was sat on his lap, legs draped over him as she giggled at something he said. It was like all the wind was sucked out of her lungs in that moment. She watched as he dug a bag of coke out of his pocket and passed it to the guy in front of him, taking the cash he offered him in return. It seemed old habits do in fact die hard.

As soon as the guy left, she stormed over to take his place, eyes red with emotional distress. “Fuck off” She says to the girl, motioning for her to get up. Usually she wasn’t this courageous, but she was so angry, she had to hold herself back from dragging her off him by her hair.

“Excuse m-“

“Get off” Rafe says to the girl, retracting his arm from her waist. A rush of pride flooded through her as the girl scoffs before getting up, an angry and embarrassed expression on her face. “I’ll find you later” he mutters to her, watching as she storms off.

“Will you now?” She taunts, her jealousy painfully obvious. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smug smirk, which she noticed. Even though it was extremely toxic, he loved seeing her like this.

“Tell me, how’s your boyfriend?” He teases, a picture of pure enjoyment on his features as he manspreads on the couch.

“Great actually” she lied through her teeth. She hadn’t even talked to him today. “Your dealing again?” She asks rhetorically, a little louder than intended. Rafe looked around at the various people that started to stare, but she couldn’t of cared less. “Are you kidding me?”

“What’s it to you?” He says, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that Rafe. We both know this isn’t you” she says, eyes pleading for him to stop being cold; to just go back to the same Rafe she fell for.

He let out a sardonic snicker. “You don’t know me Y/N. Not anymore. You made sure of that the day you left” he says, as defensive as ever. His eyes were a dark and intense blue, his jaw clenched with a sudden anger, and she swore she heard her heart break into two then.

“I’m not the one who destroyed our relationship, Rafe. You did that all by yourself” her voice was now a broken whisper as she took one last look at him. His concrete jaw. His eyebrows which were knitted in frustration. His sea-rover blue orbs which were now soft, like two sapphires dipped in milky pools. It took everything in her to turn around and walk away from him.

Every step she took was like walking on shards of glass as she practically jogged out of the house, away from the man she knew she still loved, even if every fibre of her being didn’t want to admit it. She did everything she could to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her, but it was no use. They just kept coming and coming, leaking out of her like a broken faucet. She slumped herself down on the nearest pavement, head in her hands as she let the tears fall.

Rafe sat on the worn out couch, bouncing his leg in frustration as he stared at the floor. He regretted being so harsh. He knew he was the reason they weren’t together anymore, and that was something he just had to come to terms with. He tried to stay still, to not chase after her, knowing it would probably just end in another argument. But before he knew it, he was storming out of the house.

When you are young, they assume you know nothin’

But I knew you

She felt his presence immediately, but she continued to stare at the road in front of her as Rafe sat on the pavement, their knees almost touching. Their unspoken words flew through the air like a bad storm as he turned his head. He took one look at her tear stained cheeks and almost broke.

“I never took you for a thief” She talks to her fingers, urging herself to look anywhere but his face. “How pogue of you”

His eyebrows knitted in confusion for a moment, before it clicked. “You opened my present” he says, more of a statement than a question.

“I opened it” she confirms. “You kept my ring. Why?”

“Is that not obvious?” He couldn’t let go.

She turned to face him then, drowning in his eyes. They were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen.

Their conversation was interrupted as her phone started ringing. She dug her phone out of her pocket, and sighed when the screen lit up with her boyfriend’s contact. She ended the call.

She could see a glimmer of smugness in his eyes, but as he opened his mouth to speak, she spoke first. “I’m not in the mood for your cocky remarks right now Rafe” his face softens immediately. She could practically reach out and touch the guilt that spread across his face.

“I was going to say I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick. It’s just hard knowing you’re with someone that isn’t me”

She felt her heart shatter then. She wanted to tell him that Adam doesn’t compare to what Rafe and her had. Not even close. He never has, and he never will. She wanted to tell him that she isn’t even close to moving on, that her heart was still his. But she didn’t.

“Tell me what happened to your face. No bullshit” she whispers, eyes trailing to his bruised cheeks, his cut lip. He looked broken.

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face, bracing himself to tell her the truth. “I’m in a bit of trouble” he starts. She began biting her nail, a symbol of her anxiety.

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. “A couple weeks back Barry came to me, said he had a business proposal. He gave me a bunch of weed and coke, told me to sell it to my friends on figure eight. But my dad found it in my room”

She sighed, already knowing where this was going. “He threw it all away, said if he ever found drugs in his house again, he’d kick me out. I told Barry what happened, and he gave me this” Rafe said, pointing to his face.

“How nice of him” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. Her lips twitched with a faint smile, and he matched her expression.

“How much do you owe him?”

“More than I have. My dad won’t help me. Said he’s not letting his hard earned money go to waste on some dirty pogue from the cut. So I have to deal for Barry and do his dirty work for him, until I’ve paid him back” he says, his face a picture of distress. Even though it was his own fault, she felt sorry for him. She couldn’t believe his dad wouldn’t help. Her face softened as a frown threatened to spill from her lips.

It was so strange, seeing one of the richest people in outer banks suffer at the hands of a redneck pogue like Barry. It seemed family fortune meant nothing if your family wouldn’t even share it with you.

She didn’t even think about it when she slipped her hand through his, intertwining their fingers. Rafe drew in a sharp breath, almost gasping as his finger trailed over her ring. She put it on.

“It’s ganna be okay. I have some savings, I can-“

“No, Y/N. This is my fault. I’m fixing it. I’m not dragging you into my shit again. You deserve more than that” he says, eyes twinkling with pain. She suddenly felt the urge to cry as she shook her head.

“You deserve people that want to help you. I want to help you. Just because were not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about you Rafe” she whispers, a sincere expression gracing her features as she comforts him.

Rafe licked his lips, his heart thumping as they maintained eye contact. Just two broken people gazing into each other like there’s no tomorrow. Her doe eyes still glistened with tears, the whites in her eyes slightly bloodshot, and he swore she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes trailed to her plump lips, almost out of instinct. He fully believed her lips were gods greatest gift.

She prayed he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating as he stroked her skin with his thumb. It was scary how familiar and comfortable it felt holding his hand, even after they had been apart for a year. It was like he was made just for her.

And just like that, she welcomed his kiss.

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in 20 lifetimes

It took everything In her to suppress a whimper when Rafe hummed against her cherry red lips. The kiss was greedy. Passionate. Anything but gentle. There was so much pent up sexual tension between them, if she wasn’t sitting down she was sure her knees would have buckled.

His lips were drugging her into a delirium that she just couldn’t escape as he buried his hands in her hair, biting her bottom lip just a little. He knew she liked that. He was kissing away all of her pain in that moment, all the tired thoughts of their once obsolete future. Of their chaotic past. He was putting together the pieces of the broken vase which resided in her heart.

Her manicured nails clung to his shirt as she grabbed his chest, pulling her even closer to him. Rafe was her favourite drug, and my god did she feel high. Her head was dizzy with lust. Her thoughts spinning. She could of collapsed at any given moment.

It was the kind of kiss that made her realise breathing was overrated anyway.

His tongue roamed her mouth with dominance, his lips harsh as his fingers grazed her bare thigh. He was so thankful she wore a skirt tonight. Touching her skin felt like home. She had always been his home.

And as she ran a hand through his dirty blonde locks, pulling on them ever so slightly, Rafe couldn’t believe he was finally home again.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Tags; @urfaveluvr @arielmarvelaqua @mryneedend @tigerlily678 @rxfecameronsslut @jesusfootsandles @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sickyrat @ivy-34