#but also I greatly apologize for taking so long

[blametheeditor]

David needs to finally follow up on his threat on using a tiny as a stress ball >:( more tiny needs to suffer.

You are correct, Anon. We must correct this!

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of treating others as lesser than. Mentions of getting crushed. Mentions of death.

_________________________

"Never let David get his hands on you."

"Dumbass, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Fritz only had one second to realize what those words meant for him. And when it did, it was already too late.

Overwhelming warmth envelopes him as fingers longer than he is tall curls into view. But any attempt to run and try to escape only landed him effectively trapped in a palm that closed immediately.

The redhead only two inches tall yelped as gravity sent him tumbling into a digit that nudges him. Instead of retaliating, he only curls into a ball. Feels catastrophic footsteps shake him to his core as he's carried far away from his supplies. Specifically his bag and hook.

To be honest, Fritz is genuinely worried to be in the literal hands of a giant. But not for the reasons he used to have.

Being a borrower isn't all fun and games. To say the world is against you is an understatement when a single mistake can get you killed. That can be repelling down a cliff-like surface with a hook not correctly anchored, to not collecting enough food for the week, to not keeping a close enough eye on a human's schedule.

The last one means a being capable of pinning him with a single finger grabbing him. Which leads to one of two things: getting killed, or being kept as an exotic pet.

"Mr. Harrison!"

The response he gets is the hand carefully opening up so there's only enough room to change position.

He should've seen the fist tightening again right as he peers out of the nearly impossibly small space between the thumb and first finger, yet he fell for the trap perfectly.

Fritz freezes as hard hazel eyes are all he can see, not daring to move until they roll and the towering human leans back, giving the significantly smaller room to breathe, as well as a better view of where they are.

They sit in the business man's office, the standard suit that's always worn as crisp and clean as ever. It makes the human more intimidating that necessary, as well as radiating 'no-nonsense' considering this office isn't the one at the restaurant David owns. He's dressed as if he’ll be attending a meeting despite being home all day.

"Would you like to explain why you were raiding the pantry?"

"...no."

"Is that because we agreed to let me know what's needed and someone is going behind Scott's back to get a certain candy we all agree gets you so hyper not even I can keep you contained?"

Fritz slumps when it becomes clear the gig is up. "I haven't had any sweets in a month!"

"And I haven't had a stress ball in a month," David smirks, the look turning into a sneer as the borrower tenses up. "This is what you get for breaking the rules."

The question on if he'll at least be allowed to have the forbidden chocolate is cut off as the hand squeezes, the wind forced out of his lungs despite knowing David is being as gentle as possible.

This is why the rule of not letting David get his hand on them is still in place, Fritz unable to help a panicked gasp when the hand opens in order to pinch him in between two fingers. One look at the human, and David's no longer paying attention to the borrower in hand, concentrating on the reports being highlighted.

It's only been a few months since the rule has made him apprehensive rather than terrified.

David was the worst kind of human to come across. He treated fellow humans like they were beneath him. Not to mention his superior complex that can be seen from a mile away. That no one deserved to so much as be acknowledged by him, but his name should be well known and respected.

If he acted that way toward those who can't be crushed under a shoe, then what about those who can? Not taking into account the fact they steal, no matter how insignificant it is.

Of course, there's always accidents.

Well, Fritz wants to say it was. Scott says it was him being a complete idiot, which is definitely describing the fact the redhead thought it'd be a great idea to pick helping the human with his 'animatronic problem' as a good repayment for borrowing.

Usually they help with pest control, keeping the walls clear of rodents and bugs alike. Fazbear Entertainment Center didn't have all the normal problems borrowers could help with. And Scott was correct on not wanting to find lost trinkets due to how observant David is.

They were set to leave within a month once a more permanent home was located. Fritz still felt wrong about not helping the human even if it was for only a short period.

He didn't tell Scott about befriending Orville, Happy, or Mr. Hippo. And even if he did, he wouldn't have told the man he was best friends with Lefty.

He should've, and even though the teenager might be a little reckless, he should've told the animatronics he lived with a group of borrowers. He didn't due to not wanting them to try and find his family.

It would've saved him from being taken to David of all people when Fritz very stupidly decided to try and tip a jar of chocolate chips barely full. Didn't give himself enough space to safely get the job done. Didn't have backup so when his grip slipped and he tumbled backwards, his head slammed right into another glass container, no one there to get him out of sight before anyone saw.

Understandably, the animatronics were concerned of the borrower lying unconscious on the counter in plain view of any human that would come in for the morning shift. They might be incredibly advanced, but an animatronic is still a robot made of hard metal and capable of hurting a human effortlessly.

Fritz woke up to Scott brushing his hair as he laid in the man's lap, a pounding headache that only got worse when he heard the sound of someone typing on the computer. David sitting only a few feet away.

Both of them right in arm's reach.

"You'll get a proper whack once you heal from your concussion," startled Fritz enough it gained the business man's attention, fascination evident as he watched them. "For now, I'm just glad you're okay."

Fritz scrambled to sit up, stumbled as he placed himself between Scott and the human. Felt lightheaded right as he begun to fall forward, landing on fingers that appeared to catch him.

"Don't, don't take Scott. Me."

"Well-"

"Don't," was snapped before arms gathered him up from a hand that should've been impossible to escape from. "He's not keeping us, Fritz."

"My offer still stands," David said.

"You're an asshole." Scott then met fearful green eyes, pleading for the words to be true. "You're banned from borrowing until further notice."

Fritz feels his breath catch as the fingers holding him suddenly let go, unable to scream as he falls before his leg gets caught by a single pinky.

"Too fast!"

David immediately curls his entire hand around his claimed stress ball, allowing Fritz to right himself before the fingers pin him.

"Sorry, got lost in thought."

The careful kneading starts back up as Fritz goes limp, not reacting when David snorts.

"You don't have to be dramatic."

"I can!" Fritz exclaims kicking at a finger and earning a few taps in realization. "Until you know what it feels like to be a stress ball."

"That's never going to happen," the human grins. The grasp then becomes loose enough to nudge at the borrower's arms, carefully maneuvering them.

The redhead goes still as he watches the digits flex his hand, glancing up to see a rigid concentration. The pupils dilate when they spot him watching, the look 'up' infitesimal.

"This is still considered fidgeting."

"And I'm still wanting chocolate in repayment."

"You demand chocolate," David muses, and Fritz is pinched before fingers control his fall until he's dangling upside down. A look of 'was that too fast' genuine before it earns a breathless shake of the head. "Says the one who can't fight a single finger."

The borrower attempts to glare. "I think I've more than earned it."

David suddenly bursts out laughing, Fritz yelling as he's swung backwards. "Dumbass, this is punishment for trying to get it."

"And I didn't even get it!"

"Scott would have both our heads if I sent you back with a sugar rush," is murmured as he releases his victim. Fritz stumbles to his feet with head spinning from the changing orientations. Sputters as he's sent falling back from a finger pushing him as the human chuckles.

Fritz stares up at the man who could continue to treat him like an object who's sole purpose is to release stress. Is well aware he can't escape from the desk even if he wanted to with his tools in the next room.

Knows if he says the word, he would be helped to the nearest entrance into the walls wih a piece of chocolate.

"What if I promise to annoy Eggs?"

He expected a hand scooping him up so they can finally get him his rightful treat.

A finger pins him instead, David smirking. "Tempting, but you're not getting out of this anytime soon."

"Hey!"

"I can promise chocolate," is rumbled with a fond annoyance. But Fritz can't cheer when the hand scoops him up before tossing him. He's only weightless for a few seconds, landing as the wind is knocked out of him a second time, allowing David to once again trap him in an inescapable fist. "Once I'm done with my reports."

He never promised to not annoy David once his sugar rush hits.

[ssahotchnerr]

fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

[maidragoste]

The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing you. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. His brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in your eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

Taglist: @immyowndefender @tojigirl @paninisstuff @serving-targaryen-realness @aphroditesblunt @thedazzlingburglar @technicallyannoyingninja

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

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[ghostfacd]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

PART TWO

summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.

warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return

author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓

You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.

Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.

“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.

He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”

Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations

“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”

He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”

You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.

“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.

“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.

“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back

Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.

After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.

“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”

“Who hates you Coryo?”

“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”

“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.

“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.

“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”

But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.

- - -

The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.

You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.

His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.

“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.

He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.

He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.

“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.

“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”

- - -

Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.

You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.

Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.

“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.

“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.

“But Coryo—”

Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.

Well, he thought, this was it.

This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.

“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”

But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.

- - -

“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.

You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.

“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.

“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.

“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”

“I know! I was going to—”

He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”

His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.

“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.

- - -

Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.

Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.

So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.

Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.

But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.

He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.

What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.

He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.

If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.

“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”

“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”

Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.

“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”

You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.

When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.

“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”

Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”

Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”

God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.

“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.

Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.

If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.

- - -

The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.

“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”

You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.

“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.

“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.

“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”

“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”

He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”

Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.

“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”

But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.

You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.

Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.

Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.

Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?

He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.

If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.

And this? It was just the beginning.

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[yanderemommabean]

Hey Beans-

Hey beans, I have a bit of a hellish update. 

Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. My grandma made a huge fight happen while I was on call with a friend, and things just escalated between me and her so badly I had to leave. When I came back home, my family was also on my ass about it all, despite knowing how she lies and how she instigates. 

She threatened to hit me, she threatened to kill Sammy, she hurled insult after insult at me and this all started because I didn't get up in time to do something she asked (Which was locking the door. I waited three seconds too long and she went off). 

When I came back after trying to let things cool down I was berated and told I had no right to be so “selfish” in the house, so on and so on, and the fight got so intense I had to just physically walk away, leaving the home and going two miles up the road because I did not feel safe. 

They made me so sick I began to pee blood again, as well as my sugar spiking and causing me to have palpitations. My heart cannot take this stress anymore, and neither can my mental health. I wish I could explain how bad the situation was. I had tears down my face, gasping for air, chest heaving and in pain, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. 

I got in contact with some good friends of mine, who say they can help get me out of not only that home, but the entire state i'm in. But I need money to do so, for travel and gas and so on. As much as they can house me, they need me to pull my weight. 

I hate having to ask for help, I hate that I'm even in this situation, to the point I'm so sick I might have to be seen in the ER or sent to ICU. 

I need to come up with 700 dollars, and I'm willing to do some commissions, but with how sick I am I may take a bit to get back with you. I plan to leave by early June, if not the beginning of July, as that's when my friends are able to drive down and get me. 

Donations are greatly appreciated, even if you can only afford a single dollar, it’ll be more help than you know. 

If you’re wanting a commission, please don't send money and then ask, for your sake and mine. I’m incredibly overwhelmed, and I’ll do my best to get with you and explain rates. 

And if you’re willing to donate anything, here’s my Ko-fi link. 

Again, I can’t thank you enough for if you donate or even spread this post around, even well wishes mean the world to me because I know you beans care and want to help however you can.

This post was incredibly hard to make, I’m still all over the place and trying to figure everything out, so I apologize if this sounds like rambling and nonsense. There is a silver lining however, as I actually have a way out this time, and I pray I can get out before things can get worse.

-Mommabean 

[fuxuannie]

Hi sage!! I hope you're doing well<33 do you mind doing jealousy headcanons for dan heng, jing yuan and any other characters you chose?? Thank you 🤍🤍 you're keeping the hsr x reader tag alive 😭

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4, again) x gender neutral reader

* prompt : jealousy bites like you like a poisonous snake, the bite hurts, but its the venom that gets you.

* authors note : hi anon !!! (๑´ㅂ`๑) thank you for requesting, you're so sweet for the last msg omg tysm <3 i hope u enjoy !

* brief warning : blade kills a man, very blade of him. (his is also more of a joke im sorry blade lovers) ALSO THIS PROGRESSIVELY GETS SHORTER EACH CHARACTER, I JUST REALLY LIKE DAN HENG IM SORRY LMAO.

DAN HENG can't hide the way his eye twitches, how tightly he grips onto his spear or the way he'd mutter things under his breath. He despises it when he's jealous, but he hates it more when he sees the reason for doing so.

He knows he's.. not exactly like all your previous partners, it stemmed an insecurity in him. He wasn't all too funny, and knew he couldn't make you laugh with a corny joke.

So the way Sampo keeps making you laugh, making you smile, it was sparking a jealous flame in his heart. But more than anything, it saddened him that he couldn't make you laugh like that.

God, your smile was so pretty.

After a while, he interlocks his fingers with yours and mutters a small 'Can we go?' to you. You immediately notice his saddened tone, and thank Sampo for his time before walking home with your boyfriend.

"Dan Heng?" You say softly, noticing his rather saddened mood. He lets out a small hum to acknowledge your call for him, and you sigh. "Are you upset?"

He nods his head.

"Is it.. because of Sampo?"

He hesitates, but that alone gives you an answer.

Dan Heng takes a deep breath, before looking at you, his eyes filled with honesty. "I was.. jealous. I know I can't make you laugh the way he does, and it frustrates me. I want to be a man who makes you smile everyday but-"

Amidst his rant, he sees how your gaze softened at his words. This entire time, he was insecure? He hid it well, so well, at the very least from you. "I'm sorry, this is stupid-"

"N-no! It's not, I should be apologizing if anything! I failed to realize these things.. I'm sorry, my love. Sampo.. he makes me laugh, but you make my heart flutter. You make me feel things no one else can, okay? I'm yours, as you are mine."

He smiles at you, he's just happy he communicated his feelings, and you understood. "I'll be sure to try and tell you how I feel next time, okay? As long as you promise you'll stop hanging out with him. I was honestly afraid I was gonna have to get rid of him."

You blinked a few times, but he sighs. "I'm kiddinngg.."

JING YUAN knows he's far too good of a man, therefore doesn't get jealous.

He's yet to be disproven in the first part, but his golden eyes are filled with annoyance as the stares of a certain enemy of his lingers far too long on you.

You were filling in for Yanqing, he was absent for the day (something about falling into an ice cold river and getting sick or something...) and so someone needed to be there as the General would be meeting Blade.

And Jing Yuan couldn't ignore how Blade's eyes never left your form while he spoke, hanging your head down low and so you wouldn't notice. That made him greatly annoyed, almost unable to focus, but he had a mission at hand. And so he forced his jealousy to subside.

Needless to say, the small marks on your neck was embarassing to have seen in public. (And the small bird constantly pecking at Blade's hair was definitely also not Jing Yuans doing.)

GEPARD is so understanding, he evaluates every situation with logical thinking, as expected as a leader.

So it wasn't hard to figure out the intentions of the 'friend' that was speaking to you, how their voice was almost sweeter, and the way they clinged onto your arm was signalling red flags.

Gepard wouldn't have minded this, it could've easily been friendly gestures, but Serval is one of your closest friends and you were within a friendgroup. And she knows that person has a crush on you, and it was painfully obvious.

So naturally, he swiftly and surpisingly gently pulls you from the waist out of their grasp especially with how firm his grip around you was. He gives them a not so friendly glare, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. "My partner." He states, pulling you close as you're left to be stunned with the sudden posessiveness of your partner. "Mine."

Blade simply stares down at the person even attempting to approach you with clearly bad intentions. And if they dare to try to push their luck, Blade comes home with blood on his hands.

"What did you do??" You'd ask, you already knew the answer after already learning what Blade was truly like. "What was necessary." He replied, a kiss on your cheek as he walks in through the door to wash his hands.

[twstedreamweaver]

Showering HCs with the Twisted Wonderland Boys

What it's like to shower with the guys ~

Characters Featured: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Trey, Deuce), Savanaclaw (Ruggie, Jack), Octavinelle (Floyd, Azul), Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Sebek, Silver) Missing some of the guys because I just couldn't come up with anything CW: g/n reader, fluff, SFW but some minor suggestive content, some crack, established romantic relationship with reader

The More-or-Less 'Normal' Showerers

Has a strict routine in the shower but likes showering alongside you. They'll be quiet, just enjoying your presence. You'll notice how much they seem to relax, and the water just completely washes their worries and stress away. They insist on washing themselves, unless you really beg, which they will finally relent (they greatly enjoy this, they just prioritize being of service to you). Showering with you is one of their favorite parts of the day. Very susceptible to teasing. Water is on the warmer side.

Riddle, Jamil

Sets the water to your preferred temperature. Your shower routine together is pretty run-of-the-mill, but sweet, nonetheless. He is particularly fond of talking to you in the shower as you both get ready for the day. He cherishes these little intimate conversations you have as you go about your separate routines. Always happy to wash you if you ask or look like you need help. While he does enjoy showering with you, he doesn't mind showering alone.

Silver does occasionally fall asleep mid-shower, so do be prepared to catch him.

Trey, Silver

Greatly enjoys showering with you. He especially loves washing your hair and body. Enjoys it immensely when you wash him. He will get soap in your eyes (unintentionally and to his great dismay) and will have to be taught how to properly wash your hair, etc., but he is a willing learner and very enthusiastic. Prefers his showers on the hot side.

For Kalim, he takes very long showers classic rich kid behavior. I also feel like he has servants do a lot of things for him, so he might not even know how to do skincare/haircare, etc.

For Epel and Deuce, they take shorter showers due to his upbringing.

Kalim, Epel, Deuce

Mostly showers alone but will agree to shower with you if you ask him very nicely. Whenever you shower at anything that's NOT a lukewarm temperature, he will Insist that the water is actively harming your hair and skin and forcefully change the temperature on you. Has a strict routine that you are not to disrupt. Always enthusiastically helps you with your haircare and skincare.

"Did you wish to boil to death in this shower!?"

Vil

Will steal use your hair products. He also shampoos and conditions his ears and tail. If you ask to wash them for him, he will begrudgingly allow you to, but only in exchange for something. This whole "Fine. If it'll getcha to stop botherin' me-" is entirely a show on his end though, he loves having his ears touched. The tsundere in him will admit it with enough teasing. Accustomed to short showers as force of habit but will abuse the hell out of free hot water whenever he gets the chance.

Ruggie

He takes showers very differently when alone versus when showering with you. Normally, his showers are cold and efficient, wasting no time in getting on with his day.

However, with you, he likes to take his time. He places great importance on the acts of washing you and you washing him. He gets really happy when you wash tail and ears and will gruffly admit that he enjoys it while his tail is fervently wagging (to his chagrin). Social grooming between partners is an important ritual for wolves and Jack is no different.

He will subconsciously lick or gently nibble you sometimes, and when he notices, he'll get very embarrassed and apologize. If you reciprocate, he will be ecstatic.

Jack

The Nervous Wrecks

Finds showering with you (at first) mortifying. Eventually, once he understands that you are not judging him, he will enjoy the intimacy immensely.

He is very self-conscious of his body, so you'll need to seriously support and assure him that he's attractive, as he'll feel very vulnerable and will take a while to gain the confidence to shower 'normally'. Also, doesn't really know how to wash another person, so you'll have to show him. Before getting more used to showering with another person, he'll get embarrassed by any physical contact and tries to avoid looking at you entirely (he fails at this every time).

In Azul's case, he'll stay in human form for ease. Uses expensive hair products but knows very little about haircare due to never needing it in the Coral Sea (he's canonically a big cologne enjoyer, so he probably prioritizes scent).

For Idia, his hair is waterproof and doesn't need to be washed in the standard sense (source: just trust me bro). His hair can be brushed, but brushing doesn't do much and it never tangles anyway. Contrary to popular opinion, doesn't bring his phone in the shower (unless he's grinding out daily's and is running out of time); he's too busy trying to NOT focus on you. Also, you will have to remind him to take a shower, as he routinely forgets to take care of himself.

Azul, Idia

Would accidentally set the water too hot, burning you, resulting in him freaking out, apologizing, and punching the showerhead. Tries to rescue you and will carry you out of the shower like you're dying. You will have to repeatedly reassure him that you're fine. After getting that first experience out of the way, will insist on helping you every time you look like you're struggling (which is rarely, he is totally making this up as an excuse to wash your hair).

"Human! Your feeble arms cannot reach your back! I will wash it for you! No, this is NOT because I want to!"

Sebek

Very similar to Epel and Kalim, but more nervous and easily embarrassed. Very enthusiastic to help you in the shower, but also totally clueless. Knows very little about feminine hygiene or products, so keep that in mind if you use those. But he's eager to learn about your haircare or skincare routines and help you! He will look up WikiHow tutorials.

Easily flustered if you tease him or say something positive about his body. Will flex (in)discreetly and try to not sneakily at all get you to compliment him. He's not egocentric, he just likes being appreciated and little comments make his whole day.

Deuce

The Weirdos (affectionate)

Doesn't like showers, but will happily take baths with you, although he'll likely get bored fast. He will want to bathe in his eel form, which can be problematic in a small (or even large) bathtub. Also, he likes really cold, like arctic-level water. If you complain, he will just squeeze you and say that he can warm you up. Definitely the type to get handsy and also will probably try to drag you into the ocean to swim with him when he gets antsy.

He loves when you wash him. He finds it endearing, his Shrimpy acting like a little cleaner shrimp.

Like Azul, doesn't know much about haircare or skincare and doesn't really care either. He uses 5-in-1 a decent shampoo and conditioner actually. What can I say, he's an enigma (it's probably Jade's doing).

Floyd

Adores showering with you, but unlike the others, he doesn't enjoy showering for the conversations or the act of washing you, although he does enjoy the latter - no, he just relishes in the simple act of 'observing' staring at you.

You will get used to it after a while, but at first, it's a bit weird to watch him so intently observing you engaging in mundane activities like rinsing your hair.

If you say something or shoot him a strange look, he'll say something equal parts creepy and romantic.

Also, heavily emphasizes the importance of proper haircare and will make sure you use good products.

"Hmm? You want me to look away, mon cheri? No? You simply wish to know why? Ha ha! Would you scorn a blind man for accepting the gift of sight? No? Then you understand that asking me to avert my gaze from your ethereal beauté is akin to supplice!" who does this guy think he is

Rook

I will finish the hcs with all the guys when my brain decides to work.

[roseyodditea]

Stiff Joints - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> Some mornings are harder than others. (Established relationship)

Warnings -> Slightly suggestive towards the end

A/N -> 850 words, not proofread and self indulgent because I am also having a bad hand day.

**********

Early. Too goddam early to be awake. The sun wouldn’t even be fluttering in the curtains if you could see the damn sun from the bottom of the ocean. The bed around you was too cold, too uncomfortable, too… empty.

“Wrio?” You muttered, sitting up despite the protest of your back. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Your eyes scanned the dark room until you saw the light underneath the bathroom door. “Wriothesley?” You ask again as you slip out of bed, the metal floor of the Fortress of Meropide cold underneath your feet. You approached the bathroom door only to hear the clattering of something in the sink, followed by the frustrated growl of the man behind the door. “I’m coming in.” You don’t give him a chance to protest as you open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of the man hunched over the sink, wearing only a black t shirt, boxers, and a face full of shaving cream.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up, sweetheart.” He grumbled, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you as he reached for the razor in the sink. 

You stepped close, placing a hand on his back. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He clawed at the shaving cream on his face, wiping it off, frustrated. “It’s nothing” “Wriothesley.” “It’s nothing.” “Wriothesley” “I said-” He turned to look at you, seeing that worried, and tired look on your face. All the negative emotions dissipate immediately. “You want the truth?”

“I’d greatly prefer it, yeah.” He put the razor down on the edge of the sink. “I’ve been fighting my entire life. Boxing with both gloves and bare knuckles.” “I’ve known this, and yet I still sleep in your bed every night. Is this you thinking you’re too dangerous for me again? We’ve been through this. You know I’ll always love you.” You point out, too early to have your normal patience you grant him, instead offering him rather blunt compassion.

Wriothesley sighed, looking into the mirror. “I’ve all but destroyed my hands. It’s why I wear wraps every day. They hurt, my fingers don’t move right, and some mornings I can’t even grip the damn razor and get this stubble off of my face.”

“Is that it?” “Seems a bit dismissive.” He sighs and looks over at you, hurt in his eyes.

You hesitate, noticing he is in a much more vulnerable position than you’re used to seeing him. “I don’t mean that in a dismissive way, my dear. I just mean it’s something I can help with.” He clenches his still foam shaven jaw. “What could you possibly do to help my broken hands?” “Be your hands for you.” You respond, gently taking the razor from his hand, thankful he didn't make a snarky comment at the cheesy words. You hop up on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water. 

“My dear you don’t have to.” He responds, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to hold back his emotions. 

You respond by placing a hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to lean forward, his towering frame shrinking down to reach your waiting hand, the razor running gently across his jaw, taking care of the stubble he found so annoying. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” You guide his face to look to one side, shaving one side of his jaw and down his neck, his icy eyes locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Thank you so much.” “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask as you run the warm washcloth on his freshly shaven jaw. 

He scoffs and doesn’t resist looking the other direction, letting you shave the other side of his face. “What? That my fingers don’t work?” “I mean they were working just fine last night.” You watch as he bites back a smirk, but he couldn't resist it for too long. “There’s that handsome smile.” “You’re the worst, you know… I have a reputation you know.” His eyes soften impossibly further as you finish shaving his jaw and his neck for him. He doesn't hesitate to rest his forehead on yours. “I didn’t want to worry you.” He says softly, answering your question.

“What a silly thing to hide from me you stupid man.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his lips. “What helps your hands the most, hm?”

His lips chase after yours before he lets out a huff. “Heat. Ironic giving the cryo vision.” “Mmm what kind of heat?” You ask with a low voice, your lips still hovering near his, him taking a deep breath between his teeth. 

“That kind works perfectly” He bent down and captured your lips again, his arms wrapping around your waist, he went to pull you off the counter, but stopped when you broke the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

“Absolutely not. Your hands hurt. Let me take care of you this morning.” You chuckle and hop off the counter, grabbing the collar of his shirt, tugging him out of the bathroom and towards the bed, and of course, he follows without hesitation.

“Of course~”

**********

[neyafromfrance95]

i feel like when we talk about sauron x galadriel we often focus on either the dynamic itself or sauron's pov, and we need to talk about galadriel's pov more bc it's really fascinating and complex.

for starters, galadriel loves halbrand. it's been confirmed by the creators and by her reaction to him in 2.08. and it was simply obvious from everything leading up to that point. he is her one true love. the only being with from she established a true connection. a comrade with whom she found companionship. she found herself in a soulmate hurt/comfort au when she was with him. and it seems like, no matter how she feels about sauron, she will always love halbrand. what an epitome of tragedy it is to eternally love a man who never existed?

sauron implied that he wanted to heal her when he said that if he wanted forgiveness, he would need to heal everything he helped to ruin, and he took accountability for galadriel's trauma when he apologized for finrod and everything. and i think one of the reasons halbrand had such an effect on galadriel is that his presence really was healing for her. for the first time since finrod, she wasn't alone. she felt understood and believed. he made her open up to him. she could be vulnerable with him. i find it interesting that she mockingly asks him "do you want to heal me", as if making a point that he can't heal her so that she can pretend like he didn't at some point. it adds another layer to her shame too, bc as much as she believes he can't heal the middle-earth, he was able to heal her when he "created" halbrand for her.

she has spent a lifetime harboring a deep hatred of sauron. her main goal in the life being to take revenge on him for her brother. for her, he is a sworn enemy that she's destined to slay. her hatred and ambition to kill him so all consuming and intense that she turned her back on heaven for him and basically willed him back into life.

galadriel is sauron's mirror. she has gazed into the abyss for so long that the abyss gazed back into her. her fight against him has became an intrinsic part of her identity, and we see how now sauron binds her to himself several times, either by guilt or by stabbing her with morgoth's crown, so we can say he has become an intrinsic part of her very being. always there just above her heart.

i think that sauron believes when he says that he would make her his equal queen, i believe that this is what he wants deep down (she is a natural leader, he is a natural follower). but would that actually happen? i don't believe that galadriel would ever willingly join him in mordor not only bc of the light her gaze is fixed on and bc of finrod, but also bc her pride and fear wouldn't allow it. what sauron offers galadriel is basically what jareth offers sarah (labyrinth) - "just fear me, love me. do as i say and i will be your slave." sauron wants galadriel to tame him, in a way, but she wouldn't be able to torture him into submission like morgoth did, as she could never match his strength, even as a dark!witch-queen, and she knows that. unless he repents and joins her in valinor, as a couple, sauron will always dominate galadriel in their dynamic.

trop recontextualizes what we know about galadriel's future. nenya is a symbol of her relationship with sauron and it causes her an extreme sea-longing, and the sea is another thing associated with her bond with sauron. even tho she has family and friends, she feels alone and her heart has greatly desired what sauron's proposal tempted her with for 3000-5000 years! she didn't go to valinor when celebrian did, didn't stay in the middle-earth while celeborn did, she only left the middle-earth for valinor when sauron was gone! and she took nenya with her! with trop context, it doesn't only signify her holding onto power/fight, it signifies her holding onto the only one thing that materialized as a symbol of her connection with sauron/halbrand! so while she passes the test and resists the one ring, i believe she will always yearn for both power and halbrand.

the dichotomy between her love for halbrand and her hatred for sauron is such an interesting concept, as is the dichotomy of her opposing the darkness of the dark lord as the lady of the light while being the perfect mirror of sauron, completely understood only by him, being the only one he is capable of loving, cosmically bound to him by the sea and the blood.

[roomsofangel]

pairing god of death!seonghwa x fem!reader | established relationship

genre honestly just crack.. nothing serious, just some good fun and giggles :p

word count 2.3k

synopsis since dating the god of death, you never had a dull moment when he decided to stay back and live his life as a mortal (with the exceptions here and there, he cannot help it after all. he is who he is) — whether it be helping him work the washing machine, explaining that ‘lit’ doesn’t actually mean anything caught on fire, or simply also trying to help seven other deities work their way into blending in. today’s quest? the air fryer.

mini wooyoung + san cameo :p !

a/n hi my loves! long time no see </3 i do genuinely apologize for my lack of updates, i have been overwhelmed with a lot since my last post! with ateez concert prep, moving, and my grandmothers eye surgery so things have been quite hectic! i’ve had some work be deleted by mistake so i have been rewriting a lot :( however!! i had some time and an idea.. so i decided to whip up this short work for you all as an apology! (and reminder that i’m still here:p)

decided to try out something new (or at least new to my blog) third person pov is my more stronger point than second person and it felt fitting for this in particular, so i decided to try it out here! so let me know what you think! (and who knows i might end up turning this into a mini series of things like this.. perhaps also with the other boys??)

seonghwa stood in front of the air fryer, eyeing the device with a mixture of confusion and frustration. with a sigh, he approached y/n, who was diligently working on her laptop. “yn, darling," seonghwa called out, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "how do you operate this confounded thing?"

y/n glanced up at seonghwa and couldn’t help but smile at his perplexed expression. she set aside her laptop and made her way over to him. “my love,” she began with a soft laugh, studying the air fryer before them. “what is giving you trouble this time?”

seonghwa gestured towards the air fryer, a hint of irritation and embarrassment on his face. "this contraption," he said, a slight pout in his voice. "i’ve been trying to figure out how to use it, but it's more bewildering than a newborn god's first thunderstorm."

y/n chuckled, her eyes darting between seonghwa and the air fryer. she couldn't help but find his struggle with modern appliances endearing. “let me guess," she teased, a twinkle in her eyes, "you’ve decided to take up cooking, and this little demon is giving you grief?"

seonghwa grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "i merely wanted to cook a simple meal for us, my sweet," he said, his irritation giving way to a hint of embarrassment. "but this device is more stubborn than a mortal refusing their fate." he tapped the side of the air fryer with a touch of disdain, as if it were more than just an appliance. "it has no respect for a god, i tell you."

y/n couldn’t help but chuckle again, a mixture of amusement and affection in her tone. "well, my dear lord of death, i think it's safe to say appliances don't care about your godly status." she sidled closer to him, looking at the air fryer with a smirk. "but don't worry, i shall attempt to guide you through this fearsome battle."

seonghwa let out a huff, but his expression softened as y/n approached further. he secretly relished her banter, even if it did jab at his ego. “your guidance would be greatly appreciated, my darling,” he said, a hint of mock formality in his voice. “please help me tame this infernal contraption before it becomes the cause of my first minor divine tantrum.”

y/n couldn't help but giggle at seonghwa’s formal tone. she loved it when he tried to maintain his air of divinity, even in mundane situations. "of course, my fearless deity," she replied, playing along. "let’s begin by turning the dial to the temperature you desire."

she pointed to the temperature control knob on the air fryer. "this little knob here is your first step to claiming victory over this beastly appliance."

seonghwa watched intently, his irritation melting away as he listened to her instructions. he took the knob and twirled it cautiously, setting the temperature to the desired level. "and now?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of child-like excitement.

"okay, great!," y/n chimed in, clearly enjoying the moment. "now, we select the cooking function. It should be labeled as 'air fry,' 'bake,' or 'roast.' since you want to cook us a meal, 'air fry' is the one you're looking for." she pointed to the selection dial next to the temperature knob. "this knob here will help you choose the cooking function. go ahead and give it a little turn."

seonghwa's eyes followed her finger as it indicated the selection dial. he gave it a careful twist, a sense of accomplishment slowly building in his chest. "ah, i see," he murmured, his voice laced with determination. "so far, so good. what’s the next step, my beautiful guide?"

y/n smiled, noticing the hint of pride in seonghwa's eyes. "you’re doing great, hwa," she reassured him. "now that we have the temperature set and the function selected, we need to place the food inside."

she gestured towards the basket inside the air fryer. "this part," she explained, "is where you put whatever it is you want to cook. it could be chicken, fish, fries, anything really. you just need to arrange it in a single layer here, not too crowded."

seonghwa examined the air fryer's basket with a mix of contemplation and concentration. "ah, so it's like a cooking chariot," he said, "i must arrange my offering within its depths, like placing souls in my domain."

y/n chuckled at the analogy, "exactly," she affirmed

with a nod, seonghwa began to place a few frozen french fries into the basket, his movements surprisingly methodical. "like this?" he asked, glancing at y/n for reassurance, and perhaps a bit of praise.

"you’re doing great. just make sure they're not too close to each other. they need some space to cook nice and crispy." she smiled, secretly enjoying the sight of the god of death arranging frozen french fries with careful precision. "once you've got all your food in there, we can move on to the final step."

seonghwa nodded, placing down the last few french fries, ensuring they weren't too close to one another. a sense of accomplishment washed over him as he completed the task. "very well," he said, his voice tinged with triumph. "i’ve arranged the offering within the cooking chariot. what’s the final step in this culinary quest?"

y/n couldn't help but grin, "the final step," she began, trying not to laugh, "involves closing the lid and setting the timer for the desired cooking time." she pointed to the lid of the air fryer, gesturing for him to lower it. "just gently place the lid back on top of the air fryer, and we're almost there."

seonghwa carefully placed the lid on the air fryer, his hands treating it with a respectful touch. "like this?" he asked, double-checking that he had completed the task to her satisfaction.

“yes, just like that," she confirmed, nodding in approval. "you’re catching on faster than i expected, my love."

he then turned his attention to the timer dial, a sense of accomplishment swelling within him. "and what about the timing? how long must i wait before these french fries offer themselves to me as a delicious sacrifice?"

she glanced at the timer dial and then back at him, chuckling quietly. "for these french fries, a few minutes should suffice," she replied. "let’s start with... eight minutes and adjust from there if needed. just give that timer dial a gentle turn to set the desired time."

seonghwa obediently gave the timer dial a few rotations, setting it to eight minutes. he stood back, admiring his handiwork with a mix of pride and curiosity. "there, i’ve set the timer for our sacrificial fries," he declared, his voice filled with authority. "what now, my wise advisor? do we sit and wait for the air fryer to perform its magic?"

y/n laughed at seoonghwa's use of the term ‘sacrificial fries.’ "that’s right, my love," she replied. "now, we wait for the air fryer to work its magic and transform those ordinary frozen fries into a crispy, scrumptious snack." she leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile.

seonghwa nodded, his eyes transfixed on the air fryer. "i see," he said, his voice filled with anticipation. "so, we simply wait and allow the air friar to carry out its process of transformation. it’s fascinating how mortals rely on these contraptions for their meals."

he moved closer to y/n, wrapping an arm around her waist. "and what shall we do while we wait, my sweet guide?"

y/n relaxed into seonghwa’s embrace, enjoying the feeling of his arm around her. however, before she could respond to his question, they were interrupted by the unexpected knock on the window. they both swung their gazes towards the source of the disturbance.

y/n chuckled, recognizing who it was, and excused herself from seonghwa's embrace to head towards the window. "sounds like wooyoung," she muttered with a knowing smile.

as y/n approached the window, she found wooyoung standing outside, a perplexed expression on his face. "you locked the window, you dolt," wooyoung called out, an amused grin playing on his lips. "now let me in."

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head at wooyoung's impatient tone. "hold on, you impatient fool," she called back, her tone light and teasing. "i’m opening the window." she undid the latch and pulled the window open, allowing wooyoung to enter.

wooyoung casually stepped inside, his eyes flickering from y/n to seonghwa and back. he quickly assessed the situation and smirked. "ah, i see our dark and broody friend is struggling with modern appliances again," he said, his tone laced with playful mockery.

seonghwa frowned, his irritation flaring at wooyoung's teasing remark. "watch your tongue, lover boy," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "i’ll have you know i’m simply learning the ways of modern cooking."

wooyoung chuckled, his smirk widening. "ah, yes, the mighty god of death struggling with an air fryer," he teased, thoroughly amused by the situation. "must be quite a humbling experience for you."

seonghwa's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "humbling indeed," he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "but i assure you, i will master this contraption in no time."

y/n interjected, trying to diffuse the situation between the two gods. "alright, enough you two," she said, her tone light but firm. "wooyoung, stop teasing dear seonghwa, and hwa, stop taking everything he says so seriously."

seonghwa grumbled, still clearly annoyed, but he settled down, his irritation slightly eased by y/n’s intervention. wooyoung, on the other hand, chuckled, apparently enjoying the banter. "oh come on, yn," he protested, a mischievous grin on his face. "i’m just having a bit of fun. it’s rare to see the broody one so frazzled."

y/n rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile played on her lips. "yes, yes, we're all amused by seonghwa's culinary struggles," she agreed, glancing at seonghwa lovingly.

seonghwa, still disgruntled but slightly calmer, shot wooyoung a glare, silently warning him not to push his buttons further.

wooyoung chuckled again, his eyes darting between y/n and seoonghwa, clearly enjoying the tension. "oh, come on, hwa," he said, using seonghwa's nickname casually. "lighten up a little. it’s not like i’m challenging your divine status on the battlefield."

seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation in his gaze. "no you're just mocking my struggle to understand a simple mortal contraption," he retorted, his voice still gruff. "and stop calling me hwa. only yn gets to call me that."

wooyoung feigned innocence, raising his hands in mock surrender. "ah, my apologies, oh great lord of death," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "but you have to admit, it's quite entertaining to see you in this domestic setting, trying to figure out how an air fryer works."

seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin under wooyoung's relentless teasing. "i fail to see the humor in this," he said curtly. "and for your information, i’m only familiar with weapons and tactics, not kitchen gadgets. but i assure you, i will master this air fryer before you can say 'i love you' in greek."

wooyoung burst into laughter, thoroughly enjoying seeonghwa's response. "oh, you're a riot, hwa," he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "and good luck with that. i can say 'i love you' in greek quicker than you can figure out how to change the temperature on that air fryer."

y/n tried to maintain her composure, but a laugh escaped her lips at wooyoung’s retort. "oh, honestly, you two," she said, shaking her head amusedly. "i swear sometimes you're like children."

she stepped closer to seonghwa, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "darling, don't let him get to you. you’re doing fine."

seonghwa huffed, his irritation slowly subsiding in her presence. "i know," he mumbled, his voice softer now. "it’s just... he knows how to push my buttons." he glanced at wooyoung, who was still smirking, seemingly enjoying their banter. seonghwa rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

wooyoung, seeing seonghwa's slight smile, chuckled. "oh come on, hwa, you know you love our banter," he teased, leaning against the wall. "admit it, it adds some variety to your brooding existence."

seonghwa's smile widened slightly, but he feigned indifference. "i assure you, i do not enjoy your childish antics," he replied, his tone lacking its usual grouchy tone. "but i suppose you have a point. it’s always amusing to see how far you're willing to push my patience."

wooyoung grinned, pleased that he was slowly breaking through seonghwa's tough exterior. "ah, you see, hwa," he said, a smug expression on his face. "you’re actually starting to enjoy our little banter. soon enough, you'll be begging me to stay and keep you company."

as wooyoung finished speaking, they all heard a sound from the kitchen, as if something had been knocked over. y/n turned her attention to the kitchen, a frown on her face. "what on earth was that?" she said, already on her way to investigate the source of the sound.

when they entered the kitchen, they found san sitting on the counter, with a mouthful of fries. surprisingly, he looked guilty, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but the source of the sound was obvious: a bottle of ketchup that had been knocked over, leaving a growing red pool on the floor.

san’s eyes widened as he noticed them, his cheeks still puffed with fries. he quickly swallowed the food before speaking, his voice laced with guilt. "uh, hey," he said, offering a sheepish smile.

y/n crossed her arms, a mix of surprise and irritation in her gaze. "you left the back door unlocked again?" she asked, mainly towards seonghwa, shaking her head. "san, how many times do i have to tell you?"

san shrugged, unabashedly continuing to munch on his fries. "i was hungry," he said simply. "and the door looked inviting."

[seungkw1]

stress relief — yjh

♡ pairing: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader ♡ theme: fluff, smut (18+ mdni), established relationship ♡ wc: 1.7k ♡ warnings: oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), brief wrist pinning (f. receiving), slight degradation kink, petnames (m. & f. receiving - babe, baby, love, etc.) ♡ a/n: requested by my bestie <3

“Surprise!”

Jeonghan stops halfway through the doorway, hand lingering on the knob - his tired eyes trying to process what he is currently seeing. 

His schedule has been nonstop lately, and even though he does a good job at hiding it you’ve noticed how worn out he’s been every time he gets home, usually at a very late hour. 

So - you decide to try and cheer him up. 

You cooked up a big pot of jjajangmyeon, careful to follow the recipe exactly as you are not always the best cook - but you tasted it and it was surprisingly delicious. You turned off the overheads, instead opting for low-lit lamps and lighting various candles around the condo; you also put on some relaxing classical music, playing at a low volume. The vibe is relaxing, and a bit romantic - not either one of yours’ usual style, but you know it’s what he needs. 

Finally processing his surroundings, he looks at you - his big brown eyes turning even wider. You also happened to be wearing his favorite top of yours - the one that hugs you nicely, that he always compliments you on (and very much likes to take off of you). 

You take his bag from him and set it on the ground, helping him out of his coat. You turn him around and immediately grab him by the waist, pulling him in and planting a big kiss on his lips. You pull back, a puzzled expression still on his face. 

“What’s all this for?”, he asks, and then a concerned look colors his face. “Shit, did I forget an anniversary or something??”

You shake your head. “No dummy, it’s just for you! Figured you deserved a relaxing night in for once, you’ve been so stressed lately.”

You squeeze his torso and bury your head into him - he lets out a sigh and you feel his body relax into you. 

“Yeah, I definitely have been.” 

He kisses you on the forehead. “Thanks babe.”

You grab his hands and pull him toward the dinner table. “Come on, don’t want the food to get cold!”

—-

You jump under the covers, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan and squishing yourself against him as tight as possible. After dinner and then curling up on the couch together to watch his favorite movie, his tension seems greatly diminished. But, you’re not quite done with him yet. 

Your legs and arms now wrapped around him like a koala clinging to a tree, you start kissing him on the cheek over and over again. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says as he rolls his eyes at you, but the smile on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying being showered with affection. 

“Just making sure you know how much I love you,” you state matter-of-factly, nuzzling your face into his neck and kissing him there too. 

He lets out an involuntary giggle. “Hey, that tickles!”

You softly turn his face toward yours, your nose pressed against his so you can stare eye-to-eye with him. 

“Really, though - I appreciate you so much. I don’t tell you nearly enough.”

His face begins to turn pink. “You’re being far too nice to me, I haven’t even been around all that much because of schedule and-“

You smush his lips with your hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Hush. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just-“

You kiss him to shut him up. It’s been a hot minute since you two have had any quality time together, nevermind anything alone and intimate. You savor the softness of his lips, lightly stroking his hair as you kiss him slowly, your nose pressed gently against his. You always love the way he holds you tightly when kissing you, squeezing your body into his as he rubs your back. Before long, though, your soft and sweet kisses turn into full-blown making out - both of you grasping at each other needily, neither one of you wanting to spend one millimeter apart. 

Your hand makes its way down his torso - resting on his chest, then his stomach, then to the band of his underwear. You pause, fiddling with the hem for a few moments (you can’t help but tease him a little bit). He breaks away from your lips, a slight smirk on his face he places his hand on yours, continuing it further downward onto the bulge forming underneath the fabric. He lets out a low hum as you begin to caress him, the semi-hard bulge almost instantly turning into a full-blown erection. 

“My baby’s been so tense lately,” you coo at him. You pull his underwear down, his cock springing up onto his stomach. Leaning into his ear, you whisper, “But luckily I know a great way to relieve stress.”

He moans as you begin to stroke his length. 

“Does that feel good, love?”

“Mmm yeah, feels amazing…” he mutters, his usual soft, mellow voice turned low and husky. 

His cock begins to glisten with precum as you continue stroking - you feel your pussy becoming wetter by the second as well, but your focus right now is on Jeonghan. 

You move down, positioning yourself between his legs, taking his cock in your hand as you place the tip in your mouth. You swirl your tongue over the head, causing him to groan as he lazily places his hand on top of your head. You take his length in your mouth, swallowing all of it. 

“Ohmygoddd,” he mumbles. “It’s been too long, baby.”

You slide his cock out of your mouth, gazing up at him as you lick up and down his entire length a few times, stopping only to take his balls in your mouth as you stroke him with one hand. You resume sucking his cock as the hand resting on your head begins to tighten its grip - that and the soft moans coming out of him tell you he’s close already. 

His tip hits you in your throat nicely, the choking sensation turning you on even more. You sneak your hand down to your cunt, moaning as you feel its wetness and gently begin touching your clit. Jeonghan’s moans have quickly become much louder - you know he’s about cum. A few more good pumps and you feel his cock begin to twitch, the thick ropes of his release hitting the back of your throat. He holds your head down as he finishes - you continue sucking on him to ensure his pleasure to the fullest. His body relaxes as he comes down; you slowly pull your mouth off his cock, making sure you get every single last drop of his cum. He lifts his head up slightly, looking at you through heavy eyelids - you swallow, then open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, to show him its vacancy. His head plops back down onto the pillow, a contented smile on his face - you haven’t seen him this relaxed in weeks. Your mission accomplished, you crawl back up the bed to cuddle up beside him again, but as you do he abruptly rolls you over, laying on top of you as he pins your arms down to the bed by your wrists. You must look surprised, because he grins at you - giving you that sly look of his that means he’s about to have a little fun with you. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you touching yourself just now, love. What makes you think you get to do my job for me?”

Before you can protest he has one hand at your cunt, swirling your juices around delicately with one finger. You let out a soft whimper, then suddenly a bigger one as his fingertip ever so lightly brushes against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. 

“Look how wet you are - choking on my cock turn you on that much, did it?”

You nod, crying out as he slips his finger inside your pussy. He knows how to make you feel incredible with the lightest of touches - but you need more. You roll your hips, your clit softly bumping against his palm, but this just makes him withdraw his finger. You whine as your cunt is far too empty now;  he tuts at you as he cups your breast, his thumb grazing over your hardened nipple.

“So needy - isn’t that right?”

You nod at him again, but you whine as he pinches your nipple in response. 

“I’m gonna need more than that if you want me to make you cum, darling.” His lips hover over yours, his voice gravelly. 

“You know what I like. I want you to beg for it.”

“Please, Jeonghan.”

He drags his fingertips lightly over your skin, his hand heading back down where you want it.

“Please what, my love?”

“I wanna cum - please.”

You moan as the pads of his fingers begin to circle your clit. He kisses you, then scoots down - your cunt now right before his face. He kisses your clit, then inserts two of his fingers - you whimper as he begins to fuck you, his long fingers curling perfectly to hit your g-spot. He teases you, looking like he’s about to put his mouth on you but then just blowing onto your clit gently. 

“Jeonghan please.”

He smirks at you before finally licking your clit, a massive pang firing through your lower abdomen. He swirls his tongue around before taking it in his mouth, sucking intensely. You cry out, feeling your orgasm approaching already. Jeonghan definitely notices; normally, he’d continue teasing you here, taking you nearly to the edge before pausing again and again - but this time he gives in, continuing to fuck you as his mouth refuses to leave your cunt. His free hand presses down on your stomach, and you feel your body tense up, your legs starting to quiver. Before you can even say a word, you’re cumming - your body shaking as shockwaves pulsate throughout, the sensation overwhelming. 

As you come down, you realize how relaxed you are now too, more than you’ve felt in weeks. Seeing Jeonghan so stressed lately must have been subconsciously stressing you out as well. You giggle as he kisses your pussy a few more times before crawling back up to your side, immediately wrapping his arms around you as he draws you into his warm body. 

“Thank you,” he says sleepily. “I really needed that.”

“I did too,” you reply, your head tucked into his neck. 

You lay there in silence, your breathing synchronized, Jeonghan caressing your back slowly, and slower still as you both drift off to sleep - blissful, relieved, and most importantly: together. 

[end]

[sinsirellaxx]

The anon who asked for the putting them in their place have amazing taste and your writing is so good too! ❤️ Please write a part 2 of the groveling part whenever you're free and have the inspiration! Of course, it's still up to you and if you're not feeling it, it's completely okay! 🎀

Also, remember to drink water and always stay hydrated! Your writing is amazing! <3

Slytherin Boys – You put them in your place and now they want you back

Warning: Toxic Boys alert!

A/N: Thank you so much, that is very sweet of you! Hope you're taking care of yourself as well! ❤️ Sorry this took me so long – life is a bit busy right now and sometimes my brain just isn't braining. 🙃

This is as much "groveling" I could do, because honestly – I don't see them toxic boys being truthful when apologizing for being too controlling or possessive. It is up to you: Would you forgive them?

Also: Not proofread!

Comments are greatly appreciated!

Mattheo …

… didn’t let you walk far. He willed the anger away as best as he could before rushing after you. He couldn’t believe it himself, but you had him wrapped around your finger and he hated it. But the thought of you leaving him and being with someone else seemed unbearable – it made him want to rip his hair out and scream until his lungs bled. Was he afraid you’d reject him after the attitude you just displayed? Yes! But if you did reject him, he'd just have to resort to more … drastic measures. He is a Riddle after all.

He quickly found you at the party and pulled you aside by your arm. You raised your eyebrows at him as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest – the smirk from before long gone.

“Look. I’m sorry for telling you what to wear. You are right – it isn’t my place to do so.” Hell yeah it is. Mattheo thought, not liking the bitter aftertaste the words left in his mouth. They were all lies. But it was either that or probably losing you.

His eyes lit up when he noticed your shoulders relax – your arms uncrossing and now hanging by your sides.

“Please forgive me. You’re just absolutely gorgeous and I guess I suddenly felt so insecure – which is not like me.” Mattheo added, inwardly gagging at the nonsense and vulnerability he was displaying. But you didn’t need to know that.

Jackpot. He thought as he watched your face soften, a reassuring smile on your face as you told him that there was no reason for him to be insecure.

Theodore …

… sighed defeatedly as you immediately pushed his hands off your body. He was caught off guard when you suddenly pushed him back out and slammed the door into his face.

“What the – come one!” He groaned, the lust from before being replaced by frustration. He tried turning the doorknob, but you had apparently locked it. Theodore rolled his eyes – he could always use his wand to unlock it. Leaning his forehead against the wooden surface of your door he spoke loud enough for you to hear.

“Bella, please open the door. Aren’t you overreacting?”

He was met with silence.

“Come on, open up and let’s talk about it.” He sighed heavily as he pressed his hear against the door.

But he was met with silence again.

“I was just worried about you, love.” Theo spoke louder, his patience wearing thin as he knocked loudly on your door.  He heard rustling behind the door but instead of unlocking the door you turned on some music. Loud music.

“That’s it.” Theodore grumbled under his breath before taking a step back. However, instead of using his wand – like any other student would have done – he chose to kick down the door. After a few tries he managed to break the lock, kicking the door open and walking into your room. He could fix the door later.

You stared at him in disbelief, your eyes wandering from your ruined door to his stoic face. He was panting slightly – obviously out of breath from the force he had to put into kicking the door down.

“Will you listen to me now?” He asked with his brow raised.

You crossed your arms defensively in front of your chest while avoiding eye contact. You wouldn’t give up that easily. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Theodore moved closer to you, his hands ghosting over your hips before slowly pulling you closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry for suffocating you with my love,” He murmured softly, his voice laced with hidden sarcasm, “I’ll stop annoying you with all the questioning. But I want you to know, that I’m just worried.” Theodore finished, his grip on your hips slightly tightening when you finally look up at him.

“Even Hogwarts isn’t as safe anymore.” His voice broke slightly towards the end of his sentence, his eyes downcast as his shoulders sagged. He knew you’d fall for it. You could never resist him if he acted so vulnerable in front of you – you’d have to hug him. And just as expected you immediately flung your arms around him, pulling him down to hug him. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent with one of your hands combing through his hair. Theodore smirked as he tightened his hold on you, listening to you apologize for being such a diva and promising him to always tell him about your whereabouts – because he was right. Hogwarts wasn’t as safe anymore. Your boyfriend knew best, and he definitely knew how to play you like an instrument.

Lorenzo …

… was seething in his room. His mind swirling with what-ifs as he thought about you and Potter. His jaw clenched, gritting his teeth as he thought of the male. He hated him so much.  He hated him even more because he dared to befriend you – the love of his life. His girlfriend. He scoffed as he thought about your words. Annoyed that he couldn’t control you – that he couldn’t convince you to quit talking to that damned boy. He wanted to pay you back for it, make you suffer just as he was now. He wanted to see you cry and beg for him to love you. Only you. But he knew that whatever he had in mind would just push you away and right into that stupid Potter’s arms. He’d go ballistic if that happened.

He'd have to apologize. No matter how much he didn’t want to – because there was no reason to apologize, he had done nothing wrong – he knew that was what you wanted.

Letting himself fall on his bed he closed his eyes. He’d handle it tomorrow – he had to calm down first.

The next day Enzo went to Hogsmeade to buy you roses and your favorite sweets before making his way back to school. He kept going over the apology-speech he had thought of before going to sleep – hoping he’d not mess it up.

When he’d finally find you somewhere in the hallways he’d grow tense: There was still the lingering fear of you rejecting his apology. However, as soon as your eyes connected his shoulders relaxed slightly – you were so beautiful. Clearing his throat, he stopped two feet away from you, gripping the flowers in his hands tightly as he took in your appearance. You looked sad.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. That was not fair of me at all.” Lorenzo apologized; his voice soft as he frowned slightly.

“I’ve been thinking about it the whole night …” Oh he had – he’d been thinking about all the ways he could make the Potter disappear.

“I feel horrible for the things I’ve said.” No, he didn’t. He still strongly believes he’s right.

“I have no right to tell you what to do and who to befriend.” Unfortunately, not. But he’d try to change that.

“Will you please forgive me?”

Draco …

… felt pathetic as he stood before you. His head hung low and his arms uselessly hanging at his sides – just as useless as he felt in that moment. He felt your eyes burn into him as you took in his appearance – you must be shocked to see him this disheveled. This broken. Your eyes softened slightly, your hands itching to lift his head and embrace him. He looked like he had been through hell. When he heard your soft voice uttering his name he dared to look up, his eyes red from the nightmares that haunted him in the nights. You couldn’t help it – you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, your thumbs drawing small circles on his cheeks. You were close to tears.

“I’m so sorry …” He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his eyes again. “I’m so ashamed for the things I’ve said …” His voice broke, his whole body shaking from the sob that forced its way through his lips. Your heart shattered into tiny pieces – your poor boyfriend. You suddenly felt stupid for being friends with Potter and the rest, knowing well that he suffered so much because of them. Shaking your head you pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly as you patted his back reassuringly, telling him how sorry you were for being so inconsiderate. For putting them above him.

Draco returned the hug hesitantly, desperately clinging onto your sweater as he cried into your hair with a small smile on his lips. Everything was going according to plan.

Blaise …

… wasn’t so sure anymore. Three days had passed, and you had still not come to him – neither did you reply to any of his messages. With a heavy sigh he stood up from his bed: He’d have to make it up to you, there was no other way around it.

Finding you was rather easy – he had gone to your dorm-room first. Knocking on your door he waited for a few seconds before you opened it, clad in joggers and his hoodie. You immediately frowned when you saw him, pushing the door close. Blaise reacted quickly and put his foot between the door and the doorframe.

“I want to apologize.” He rushed out, pulling his foot back when you opened the door again.

“I’m really sorry for what I did. I know you hate it when I get violent and I’m sorry I acted that way. Really – please, I’ll change.” He whispered brokenly as he stared deep into your eyes.

Tom …

… Riddle didn’t beg or ask for forgiveness. Never. But after a whole week of you ignoring him, he has had enough. He apparently needed you more than he let on – and more then you needed him, which bothered him tremendously.  He had tried everything: Read your mind, manipulate your thoughts – he even made Snape partner up with you for a project. But nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t see into your mind, and you skipped potions to avoid him as well. He had to talk to you. With clenched fists and a tight jaw, he approached you after dinner when you were alone.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He questioned. His voice causing you to flinch and spin around to face him. You looked slightly nervous when you noticed him. Good. Tom thought. You didn’t answer him right away, which further added to his frustration. He wasn’t known to be a patient man. “Do you think you can survive without me?” He asked cockily, with his hand in his pockets – his fingers playing with his wand. Just in case.

You scoffed at his attitude. Even now, when he should be apologizing, he was nothing but arrogant. Rolling your eyes at him you told him to leave you alone – telling him it was over before taking a few steps back. You were afraid to turn your back towards him. And right you were – but you underestimated him. For he didn’t need you to turn his back towards him to take action. He whipped out his wand and grit out the imperio spell with a small flick of his wrist. You never stood a chance. Your eyes turned a misty color as they watched the tall male step closer to you. His free hand shooting out to softly caress your cheek before gripping your chin tightly.

“Foolish little girl. There is no escape. You will stay with me and obey me … no matter what.”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion: 

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 

Gale: 

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll: 

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 

Halsin: 

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc: 

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 

Raphael: 

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 

The Emperor: 

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Beginning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 7,300 Summary: You return to your hometown as a successful defense attorney to represent SAMCRO President Jax Teller, the former love of your life, in a murder trial. Years after your painful breakup, unresolved feelings resurface, and the lines between your professional duty and personal desires blur. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, cheating, mentions of parental death. A/N: So, this is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This establishes Jax & Reader's beginnings as teens/young adults. Feedback is so greatly appreciated! Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. I am also new to posting like this so apologies now if I've missed anything. We'll learn as we go. Please be kind.

Jax Teller leaned against his bike in the Charming High School parking lot, his leather kutte draped over his broad shoulders. With a lean, muscular build, he exuded an aura of danger on two wheels. His sandy blonde hair was a tousled mess, falling just below his ears and framing his face in a way that highlighted his rebellious charm. One flash of his boyish, crooked grin sent girls swooning, but when you walked past, you didn’t even glance his way.

Curiosity piqued, Jax straightened up. “Hey,” he called, his voice smooth yet laced with cocky confidence. “You too good to say hi?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I’m Jax Teller.” He starts. “You’re Jimmy’s daughter, aren’t you?” his eyes narrowing slightly as recognition dawned. “I saw you at the clubhouse a few weeks ago when your old man patched into our charter.”

You shrugged, barely reacting. “Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

Jax smirked, intrigued by how unimpressed you seemed. “Just surprised I haven’t seen you around more,” he said, stepping a little closer. “You’re not into the whole MC thing?”

You quickly glanced him up and down, a playful glint in your eye. “Not really my scene.” 

Jax tilted his head, genuinely interested. “That why you won’t give me the time of day, huh?”

You shrugged again, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”

His grin widened. Most girls would’ve melted under his attention, but you? You gave as good as you got. He liked that. “You might be right, but that’s not going to stop me from trying, darlin’,” he replied, adding a flirtatious wink. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, gesturing toward his bike.

You scoffed, glancing down at his bike and then back at him, your tone teasing. “With you? On that? No thanks. I only ride with my dad.”

“Alright, Pep, another time then,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious, making you bite back a smile.

“Pep?” you asked, confusion furrowing your brow. 

“Pepper,” he explained, grinning widely. “You’re kind of spicy, and I like that. I think that nickname suits you.”

After rejecting his ride, he hopped on his bike, strapping on his helmet, ready to leave. “We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging me to give you a ride.” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. 

You flashed him a smirk, determination in your eyes. Cool, calm exterior. “Oh, don’t hold your breath, Teller.”

But inside, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. His words caused your stomach to flip. The easy banter was just a front; beneath it lay the undeniable pull between you, and you felt it tugging at your heart. As you watched him take off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be craving that ride sooner than you’d like to admit. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that first encounter, it was like a slow, steady burn between you and Jax. At first, you made it a point to keep your distance, though it was impossible to ignore the magnetism between you. He’d always find an excuse to talk to you in the halls, leaning against lockers like he owned the damn place. You’d roll your eyes, give him sass, but there was always that spark — the kind that lit up the air around you both.

Then came the day he convinced you to ride with him. He pulled up to your house one Saturday afternoon, engine rumbling beneath him, and shot you that devil-may-care grin. “C’mon, Pep. You’ve been avoiding this long enough.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, one hand on your hip. “I told you, I don’t do rides, Teller.”

But there was a challenge in your voice, and Jax heard it loud and clear. He just revved the engine, making it purr, his gaze never leaving yours. God, he was cute. “One ride with me. You don’t like it; I’ll never ask again. Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, but the way your heart thumped in your chest betrayed you. Something about Jax made you want to push your own limits, and this was no different. Relenting, you grabbed the helmet he offered and swung your leg over the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His body was warm and solid beneath your hands, and you could feel his heartbeat through his leather.

The bike roared to life, and before you knew it, you were speeding down the back roads outside town. Wind whipped through your hair, the world a blur of color as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Every time Jax took a sharp turn, your grip on him tightened, but soon you weren’t holding on out of fear, you were holding on because you didn’t want to let go. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the wind, the pure freedom - it was intoxicating. And the way Jax handled the bike, confident and effortless, only added to the rush.

He’d glance back at you every now and then, smirking when he saw you weren’t just holding on anymore; you were leaning into it, craving more of that wild thrill. And with every ride, it became more than just adrenaline. It was the way he made you feel when you were with him, completely invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you.

The weeks turned into months, and a montage of memories built up between you two. Sneaking out at night, the hum of his bike your only soundtrack as you wrapped yourself around him, laughing into the wind. Bonfires by the old quarry, where he’d pull you close with that cocky grin, his touch always gentle with you.  Late-night rides to nowhere, where you’d hold him a little tighter, whispering sarcastic comebacks into his ear even as your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every mile.

Then there were those unexpected moments, the quiet ones that caught you off guard. Like when you found yourselves perched on the roof of Teller-Morrow, cocooned in your own little world. In those instances, a different side of Jax emerged—one that was introspective and thoughtful. He would often pull out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts and feelings, exposing a vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to his tough exterior. As he lit a cigarette, you would lean into him, savoring the warmth radiating from his body. You’d tease him playfully, the banter punctuated by that same smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, your gaze would linger on him just a little too long. 

It wasn’t long before you realized something had shifted. The thrill of the ride was more than just the speed and adrenaline. It was the way Jax’s hand would find yours when you weren’t paying attention, the way he’d look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes softened when he saw you, the fire and sass he loved to tease but never tried to tame.

One night, after a long ride along the coast, the two of you sat by the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing beneath you. Jax was beside you, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, “I didn’t think you’d ever actually give in.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Give in to what?”

He grinned, that playful glint in his eyes. “To this. To riding with me. To… us.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, the sunset painting his features in warm, golden light. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The exhilaration wasn’t just from the rides, it was from him. 

“I guess you’re not the worst company,” you admitted, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, you’re my Pep. No one else like you.”

And that’s when you knew you had fallen, not just for the rides, but for the boy who had made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t expected. The boy who saw through your sarcasm, who called you Pepper because he liked your fire, and who made your heart race faster than any ride ever could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Senior year was a whirlwind. While you were focused on your classes and keeping up with your honor roll status, Jax was slipping further away from school. He barely showed up anymore, spending most of his time at the garage or with the club. There were days when you’d catch glimpses of him, riding in with Opie, that familiar roar of their bikes, the MC patch on his back more of a constant presence than his textbooks.

You had always known Jax was different, more interested in bikes and the MC life than anything school had to offer. But now, it felt like he was already halfway out the door while you were still trying to figure out where the future would take you.

The contrast between the two of you was glaring. You were getting acceptance letters from universities across the country, each one congratulating you on your achievements. It felt surreal, but there was this gnawing ache every time you thought about leaving Charming — leaving him. You had spent the last couple of years with Jax as your constant. The idea of being somewhere without him felt like cutting away a part of yourself.

One afternoon, you met Jax at the garage after school, where he was elbow-deep in the engine of a Harley. He looked up when he heard you approach, wiping his hands on a rag, that familiar grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Pep,” he called, dropping the rag and walking toward you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “How was your day? Ace another test?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Actually, yeah. I got into Berkeley.”

Jax’s face lit up with pride. “Damn, look at you. That’s huge, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you affectionately.

You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, grease, and smoke. “Yeah… but it’s kinda far, Jax. And I don’t know if I want to go that far. I was thinking maybe San Fran or even Fresno. Somewhere closer.”

Jax looked at you, brow furrowing a bit as he leaned against the workbench. “You’re gonna throw away Berkeley for Charming? Why?”

You shifted, feeling the weight of your answer before you even said it. “Because of you,” you admitted, voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to be miles away from you, from everything I know, my dad. I want to study law, stay close, and—”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling you closer, his hand resting at the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft but conflicted. “You’re too good for this place. You’ve got this big, bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

You searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You’re not holding me back, Jax. I want to be near you. Law school, everything — I can do that here.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t have a plan. Shit, I’m barely gonna graduate. I’ll probably work at the garage, help with the club… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it’s not gonna be college, that’s for sure.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. You don’t have to have some perfect plan. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Jax smiled softly, but there was something behind it, a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You deserve more than just ‘figuring it out.’ You deserve everything. And I don’t know if I can give you that.”

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “You’ve always been enough for me, Jax. Always. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

Jax only kissed you, this time slower, deeper, like he was holding on to something he was afraid to lose. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I could never tell you to go. I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

You kissed him back softly, the noise of the garage fading into the background. “You won’t,” you promised.

But even as you said it, there was a part of you that knew things would never be that simple, not with the club, not with the way Jax was already tied to a world that didn’t leave room for easy choices. Still, in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world at your feet, you believed that somehow, you could make it work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Two years into undergrad and everything felt different. The late-night rides and stolen moments that used to bring you and Jax together now seemed like distant memories. You were buried in textbooks and case studies, drowning in deadlines and long hours at your internship. The law classes were brutal and balancing your workload with everything else left you running on fumes. You’d chosen a college about an hour outside of Charming, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep Jax in your life.

But even with that proximity, things were… different. The once easy connection between you and Jax felt strained, pulled thin under the weight of time, distance, and the lives you were both living now.

You were sitting at a small table in a coffee shop near your campus, your laptop open and legal notes scattered everywhere. Your phone buzzed, a text from Jax lighting up the screen. Hey, been trying to call. Busy?

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt swirling in your chest. You had seen the missed calls earlier, but your study group had gone long, and then there was work. You typed out a quick reply: Yeah, sorry. Studying. You okay?

His response came fast. Yeah, just haven’t seen you in a while. Miss you.

That simple sentence hit harder than you expected. You missed him too, desperately. Lately, it felt like missing him was all you did. You weren’t the same girl who had spent nights riding on the back of his bike, laughing into the wind. Now, you were someone constantly pulled in a dozen directions, and Jax was being swallowed up by the club. He was taking on more responsibilities with the Sons, more rides, more late nights. And you knew what came with that lifestyle - the danger, the temptations. You’d heard about other women. Nothing concrete, but the rumors alone were enough to keep you awake at night.

You texted back, I miss you too. Maybe I can come by tomorrow?

Yeah. I’ll be at the clubhouse. Be good to see you.

The next day, you drove back to Charming, your stomach knotted with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You parked outside the clubhouse, a place that used to feel like a second home, but now felt distant — like you didn’t quite belong in Jax’s world anymore. You walked inside and immediately saw him at the bar, his back turned as he talked with Opie.

“Hey,” you called, and he turned, that familiar smile lighting up his face as he saw you.

“Hey yourself!”  he said, walking over to wrap his arms around you, a tender kiss placed on your lips. The feel of him, solid and warm, instantly melted some of the tension inside you. For a moment, it felt like everything could be okay, like you were still those two kids who fell in love years ago. But as soon as he pulled away, reality slipped back in.

He led you back to his clubhouse room. Both of you sitting on the bed, his hand resting on your leg as if to anchor you both. You made small talk, catching up on each other’s lives, but the conversation felt stilted. There were gaps now, things unsaid between you, like the life he was leading in the club, the hours he spent with them, and the stories you heard but never wanted to ask about.

“School’s killing me,” you admitted. “I barely have time to breathe, let alone come back here. It’s just... a lot.”

Jax nodded, but you could see the distance in his eyes, the frustration he was trying to mask. “Yeah, you’ve been busy. I get it.”

You sighed, looking into his eyes. “Do you? Because it feels like… I don’t know, like we’re both living these separate lives. When’s the last time we spent more than an hour together?” There was always this heightened tension between you two now.

Jax’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, I know. But it’s not just you. I’ve got a lot going on too, with the garage, the club and everything…” he trails off.

“And what does ‘everything’ include?” you asked, your voice quieter, a trace of the hurt you’d been holding back slipping through.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes shadowed with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “What are you asking?”

You hesitated. This was the conversation you’d both been avoiding, but you couldn’t pretend anymore. “I’m asking if there’s someone else, Jax. I’m asking if the club has taken more than just your time.”

His expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it - regret, maybe. “There’s no one else, Pep. Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped. “But this life… it’s not easy. And you’re not here as much. I’m not saying that’s your fault, but it’s how it is.”

You nodded, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I get it. You’re right. We’re both busy, and it’s hard. But we’re growing apart, Jax. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to fix it either.”

There it was — the raw truth neither of you had said out loud until now. You still loved each other, deeply, but it was like trying to hold on to something that kept slipping through your fingers. The connection that had once felt so unbreakable was fraying at the edges, and neither of you knew if you could tie it back together.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you like it always had. For now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay. But deep down, you both knew that things had changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another year had passed, and your relationship with Jax was hanging by a thread. Between the LSAT’s, your paralegal job, law school applications, you were constantly thinking about the future. A part of you still wanted that future to include Jax, despite all the cracks.

The tension between you two had been building for months. He’d invited you to a big MC party, but things between you were so fragile that you weren’t sure if going was the best thing. The law firm you worked for was in the middle of a huge case and you didn’t think you would be able to get away from the piles of research you had in front of you. Just as you were grappling with whether to go, your phone buzzed, Jax’s name lighting up across your screen.

Hey Pep, you coming to see me, or what? ;)

The pull between duty and heartache twisted in your chest. The case you were working on was critical, your future in law depended on it, and yet, a part of you longed to see him, to feel connected again. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping sense that you no longer fit in his world. The MC lifestyle felt more alien with every passing day.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. I’m slammed with work right now… not sure if I can make it.

The moment the message left your screen, a wave of anxiety hit you. Would he be disappointed? Relieved? Part of you wanted him to push back, to make you feel like you still mattered enough for him to want you there.

A few seconds passed, then your phone buzzed again. His response appeared almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your message just as eagerly.

You’re always slammed with work. But this is important to me. Come on, it’s just one night. I miss you.

Your heart clenched. He was good at that, making you feel guilty for choosing anything that wasn’t him or the MC. You read the message repeatedly, feeling the weight of his words.

"I miss you."

It was what you wanted to hear, but at the same time, it left you more torn than before. School, the case, it all seemed so distant now. Your mind flickered back to the last time you'd seen him, the strained goodbye, the unsaid things between you two. Maybe one night wouldn't change anything, but what if it did?

The screen dimmed as your phone idled, but you couldn't take your eyes off the words, wondering if you could keep walking this fine line between your past and your future.

You typed out ‘I'll try’ and stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. It felt like a compromise, a way to keep one foot in each world without fully committing to either. But as you sent it, a pit formed in your stomach. You knew deep down that it wasn’t just about this one night—it was about all the nights before and all the ones that could come after.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

That's my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.

His words sent a familiar warmth through you, but there was something bittersweet about it too. His girl. You weren’t sure if you even belonged to him anymore. Jax had a way of making you feel like nothing had changed, like the years apart hadn’t put a canyon between who you were and who you’d both become.

You sighed, glancing at the stack of case files on your desk. The logical part of you said you should stay, focus on the case. But another part, the one that still longed for the way things used to be, pulled you towards him. Like always.

You decided to work for another hour, hoping the mountain of research would drown out the thoughts of Jax and then head to the party. But time slipped away from you and when you finally glanced at the clock, a surge of panic shot through you. You were hours behind. Cursing under your breath, you threw everything into your bag and bolted out of your dorm.

The drive to Charming was long and familiar, each mile pulling you back to a life you’d tried so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t heard from him; you knew you were hours later than you planned, and he probably thought you weren’t coming. You decided to surprise him at this point, to see his face when you showed up after all. Maybe you could feel like you still belonged in his world, even if only for one night.

The roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the distance, a sound you knew all too well. You parked a little way down from the clubhouse, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked toward the sounds of the party.

The parking lot was crowded with bikes, the familiar smell of leather and gasoline hitting you as you approached the entrance. The music was loud, people spilled out from the doors, laughing and drinking. You weaved through them, feeling the weight of old eyes on you, some curious, others familiar.

As you stepped inside, the chaos of the party washed over you. It was everything you remembered - loud, wild, and unapologetically SAMCRO. You scanned the room, looking for him, the anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race.

As you navigated through the crowded room, the air thick with smoke, alcohol, and the unmistakable roar of laughter and loud voices, you couldn't help but notice the women, Crow-eaters as they were not so affectionately referred as, draped over several members. They were scantily clad, their bodies pressed close to the bikers, and you felt the sharp sting of being out of place. Their boldness, their ease in this world, it was a stark contrast to the careful, controlled way you lived your life now.

You tugged at the hem of your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of the more conservative clothes you wore and the way you didn’t fit in. You were polished, buttoned-up, and in a crowd like this, it made you feel like an outsider. The club girls knew their place, their roles in the MC hierarchy clear, but you used to think you belonged here. Now it felt foreign, like you were intruding on a life that had moved on without you. You weren’t one of them, and as much as you tried to pretend this night was about reconnecting with Jax, the reality was painfully obvious. This just wasn’t your world.

When you finally spotted him, it wasn’t the reunion you imagined. There he was, in the corner, alone with another girl, a girl too close for comfort. She was laughing, her hand on his chest, and his expression wasn’t one of protest.

Your stomach dropped. You’d heard rumors swirling around for a while, whispers you hadn’t wanted to believe, but this? This was undeniable.

You stormed over, heart pounding. “What the hell, Jax?”

He looked up, startled and shocked, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. The girl backed off immediately, sensing the tension, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Pep, wait—” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“Wait for what? For you to finish whatever this is?” You could hear the anger and hurt in your voice, and it took everything not to lose it right there in front of everyone.

Jax stood, frustration mixing with his own guilt. “Shit, Babe - It’s not what it looks like. She’s no one, I swear—”

“Then why was she all over you?” You could feel your hands trembling, the betrayal sharp in your chest. “Do you even care anymore, Jax? Or am I just holding on to something that doesn’t exist?”

He stepped closer, grabbing your arm gently. “Of course I care. Pep, you know I love you and I’m not screwing around.”

You wanted to believe him, but that image of him with her was now burned into your mind. Still, as you stared into his eyes, the same eyes that had looked at you with love for years, you found yourself softening. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was out of hope, but you nodded, letting out a shaky breath, not wanting to do this with an audience. “Jax, this can’t happen again.”

He nodded quickly, pulling you into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”

After the confrontation, he had come to you, apologizing, trying to explain away the situation as a misunderstanding, a mistake. And in that moment, you wanted so badly to believe him, to let the history between you two be enough to erase the pain of what you’d seen.

You stayed and he held you close that night, whispering promises that felt hollow. His arms around you were familiar, but they no longer felt like home. You could feel the space between you two, even as he lay beside you, his breath steady as he fell asleep.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. Everything about this night, this life was a far cry from what you had imagined your future would look like. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized or promised to change. Something between you had shifted, and no amount of love was going to fix it. You knew deep down, as you lay there in the dark, that this had to be the end.

It wasn’t just about the girl he flirted with or the way he had laughed with her like you didn’t exist. It was about the path you were on, the future you were fighting for. It was about who Jax had become and who you had grown into. Jax had chosen this life, and in exchange, never fully choosing you. The club would always come first, and that realization cut deeper than anything else.

Your heart felt heavy as you got dressed quietly, careful not to wake him. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye tore at you, but you knew this had to be done. You had to walk away before the weight of staying crushed you.

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, your hand resting on the side of his face, memorizing the feel of him one last time. His lips moved slightly under yours, and for a moment, you thought he might wake, but he didn’t. Part of you was relieved, saying goodbye right now would have been too hard.

Standing over him, you took a deep breath, knowing this might be the last time you’d ever see him like this, your Jax - peaceful, vulnerable. Your eyes lingered on him before you turned and walked out of the room, your heart breaking with every step.

The drive out of Charming felt endless, every mile putting more distance between you and the life you once knew. It gutted you to leave him behind, but deep down, you knew it was the only way to save yourself. You had outgrown this world, and it was time to let go of the one person you thought you’d never lose. As you merged onto the highway, the sun barely beginning to rise, you wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. This was the end, and even though it hurt like hell, you knew it was the right choice.

It had been a few weeks since that night and the heaviness in your heart had only deepened. You spent countless hours wrestling with the decision to end things with Jax. The memories of laughter and love felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your lives drifting apart. Tonight, you’d finally decided you were going to have the talk - the one that would sever the last ties binding you to him.

As you gathered your things, the clutter of books and notes on your desk only reminded you of the life you were trying to build apart from him. The stack of law books felt like a barrier, protecting you from the emotional storm you knew was about to hit. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you would say.

Just as you were about to walk out, a firm knock echoed through your small dorm. You paused, quizzical. You weren’t expecting anyone, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Hey,” came the gruff voice from the other side, and your heart dropped. It was Jax.

You opened the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked pale, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with something heavy. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.

“Jax? What’s wrong?”

He stepped inside, his presence both comforting and terrifying. “I—” His voice cracked, and he took a moment, visibly struggling to find the right words. “It’s your dad. He… he’s gone.”

The world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. “What do you mean, gone?” you stammered, heart racing. “What happened?”

His gaze dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach churn. “There was a deal that went south. He got caught in the crossfire. They got him to the hospital, but it was too late.”

Shock flooded your body, a cold wave that left you feeling numb. “No. No, this can’t be happening.” You stumbled back, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. Your father had always been your rock, the steady hand guiding you through life, it had always been just the two of you. “What do you mean caught in the crossfire? He was just… he was fine. I just saw him!”

Jax stepped closer, his expression pained, his own tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept the reality he was laying before you. “You don’t understand. This is… I can’t… I don’t even know how to process this.” The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding that fell flat.

He reached for your arm; his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The warmth of his touch ignited a swirl of conflicting emotions within you. He was the last person you wanted to turn to, yet in that moment, the desperation for comfort overpowered everything else. You felt so fragile, and the thought of facing this tragedy without him was daunting.

He cupped your face and in that moment, it was like the ground dropped out from under you. The room spun, and suddenly, everything—the fight, the tension, even your plans to leave Jax, seemed insignificant. Your dad was dead, and the club, the same club that had taken so much from you with Jax, had taken him too.

You collapsed into Jax’s arms, your tears soaking his shirt as you clung to him. And just like that, all your plans shattered. You weren’t thinking about law school anymore. You weren’t even thinking about breaking up with him. All you could think about was the fact that your dad was gone, and Jax was the only one who could understand the weight of that loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jax made it through your father’s funeral, now bound together by grief, but even in the depths of your sorrow, it was a fragile connection. He had become your lifeline, holding you close as you navigated the crushing waves of loss. The club surrounded you, providing support in ways you hadn’t expected, ensuring that you wanted for nothing as you buried yourself in your studies during your last year of undergrad. You moved through life on autopilot, the world around you fading into a blur as you focused on school, pretending that everything would somehow work itself out.

As the months passed, acceptance letters from several schools filled your mailbox, a testament to your hard work and determination. But the joy of those accomplishments felt overshadowed by the grief that still clung to you like a heavy fog. Each letter was a reminder of a future you were hesitant to embrace. You were torn, unsure of where to go. Part of you wanted to stay close to Jax, to the familiarity of Charming, while another part yearned for a fresh start, a chance to break free from everything that haunted you.

But while you clung to Jax for comfort, the distance between you was palpable. You knew he was there, physically present, yet your relationship had become stagnant, a shell of what it once was. Jax provided a familiar solace, but it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had formed. The love that had once burned brightly now flickered like a candle, struggling against the grief that surrounded you both.

Everything came to a head one night at the clubhouse. As you paused outside Jax’s door, your hand froze on the doorknob, heart racing at the faint sound of laughter inside - his laughter. But he wasn’t alone. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, and everything seemed to freeze around you.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned, lips locked with some woman you didn’t recognize. Her laughter mixed with his, a sound that shattered your world once again. Time felt suspended as the reality of the moment set in.

“Jax!” The sound of your voice echoed painfully in the room, causing their laughter to halt abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, but they quickly filled with shame as he processed your presence. The woman beside him blinked, confusion dancing in her eyes, but you ignored her, shaking with betrayal as you stared at him. You didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“Shit! Pep, I—” he started, his voice thick with regret, but the words evaporated in the tension that filled the room.

Anger boiled within you, raw and relentless, as you stepped forward, heart racing. “You said you loved me! You promised you’d do better!”

He shifted uncomfortably, guilt etching deeper lines on his face. He couldn’t meet your gaze, knowing he had fucked up royally. The realization of what he had done hung heavily in the air, a small part of him recognizing that he had sabotaged your relationship out of fear. Fear of feeling stifled, of the stagnant love that no longer felt like home to him either.

When he reached out to touch you, desperation tinged with shame, you yelled. “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” The slap was swift, fueled by raw emotion, landing with a force that surprised even you. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and definitive, as Jax's head snapped to the side, his face flushed with the imprint of your anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, and everything inside you unraveled.

The warmth and safety Jax once provided had turned cold. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to undo this betrayal.

That’s when Opie appeared, his expression a mix of sadness and empathy. He stood silently, a protective barrier between you and the pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as everything inside you threatened to collapse. Jax remained quiet, his shame on full display, knowing he had lost something precious but feeling powerless to reclaim it.

“I’ll take care of her,” Opie said quietly, his voice steady. He didn’t need to say more; Jax knew better than to push. The hurt in his eyes was evident, but it was too late for apologies.

“Pep, please,” Jax finally managed, his voice hoarse, but it lacked the strength of conviction. His eyes were desperate, but beneath that desperation lay a deep-rooted acknowledgment of his failures, the realization that he had successfully pushed you away.

“Stop,” you snapped, tears streaming down your cheeks, anger morphing into deep-seated sorrow.

He stood there, paralyzed, unable to find the words that could ever justify this.

Opie stepped forward, his presence a comforting weight, trying to navigate you out of the room. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

You turned away from Jax, feeling the ache of loss settle in your chest like a stone. Only a silent farewell passing between you. It was done. You and Jax were over.

As Opie led you away, the weight of everything crashed down on you. You had lost your father, and now, Jax too – his love that once brought you to life felt distant, unreachable. The noise of the clubhouse disappeared into the background, leaving you in a world where the only constant was your grief, and you didn’t know how to move forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving Charming felt like tearing a piece of your heart out. You had chosen the best law school you could, deliberately picking one as far away from California as possible. It was a decision that both terrified and relieved you. You needed to escape the memories, the grief, and, most of all, Jax.

As the day of your departure drew closer, the reality of it settled in, leaving you with an emptiness that clashed with your determination. You packed your things meticulously, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. But as much as you wanted to flee from your past, a part of you still ached for closure.

So, you agreed to meet Jax for a final goodbye, knowing it was something you both needed, even if it felt hollow. You chose a secluded spot in the park where you used to share lazy afternoons, a place where laughter once rang in the air. But today, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering sadness.

Jax was already there when you arrived, leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking every bit the man you'd fallen for. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence felt thick, filled with all the things you couldn’t say anymore.

“So, this is it,” Jax finally said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no edge, no teasing, only rawness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond without unraveling. “Yeah, it is.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair, the same way he always did when he didn’t know what to say. “I get why you’re going. You need to do this.” Jax replied, his eyes searching yours for something - understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. “It’s just… hard to believe you won’t be here.”

You swallowed, your heart tightening in your chest. All you could muster was a simple nod of understanding.

For a solitary moment, it was like time rewound, and you were back to being the two of you, before everything got complicated. Before the weight of the club, the violence, and the grief. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms, but you held yourself still, knowing that this moment wasn’t about holding on, it was about letting go.

Jax straightened, stepping closer, his blue eyes still searching yours. “I wanted this life for us, you know? A real future.” His voice broke, just slightly, and it hit you harder than you expected.

“I know,” you whispered, your own emotions threatening to spill over. “But that’s not where we’re headed anymore.”

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but tender, as if it was the last connection keeping you from drifting apart. “Just… promise me one thing.”

You looked at him, your throat tight with unshed tears. “What?”

“Don’t forget about me, alright? Even if I’m just a memory, don’t forget.”

The weight of his words settled deep inside you. You could promise that, but you weren’t sure how much of Jax would be left in you once you stepped onto that plane. Still, you nodded, because in that moment, it was the only thing you could give him.

“Goodbye, Jax.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a hug, strong and secure. The scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Jax, washed over you, making you dizzy with the realization that this was truly the end. And when he let go, you didn’t look back.

As you walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, there was no turning around. Not now. You had to let him go, even if part of you never would.

Part 2 - The Reunion

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back. 

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both. 

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before. 

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend. 

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second. 

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him. 

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion. 

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!” 

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair. 

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.” 

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words. 

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!” 

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously. 

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him. 

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering. 

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters. 

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have. 

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches. 

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity. 

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one. 

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror. 

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.” 

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh. 

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.” 

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form. 

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort. 

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.” 

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it. 

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago. 

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama. 

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce. 

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas. 

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.” 

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat. 

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.” 

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.” 

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort. 

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap. 

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle. 

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff. 

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?” 

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement. 

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead. 

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect. 

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously. 

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face. 

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door. 

Eddie though, he starts chuckling. 

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more. 

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you. 

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.” 

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch. 

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.” 

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy. 

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers. 

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers. 

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything. 

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm. 

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music. 

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related. 

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face. 

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively. 

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.” 

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.” 

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.” 

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen. 

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin. 

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard. 

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt. 

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else. 

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t. 

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was. 

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees. 

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first. 

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda. 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you. 

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch. 

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. 

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him. 

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling. 

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes. 

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.” 

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.” 

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask. 

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips. 

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it. 

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. 

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you. 

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes. 

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!” 

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you. 

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again. 

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head. 

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. 

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise. 

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder. 

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again. 

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan. 

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing. 

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum. 

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again. 

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side. 

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued. 

“I never got to taste it,” you pout. 

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either. 

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent. 

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum. 

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it. 

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp. 

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare. 

Got you. He thinks. 

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle. 

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy? 

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened. 

Because it was nothing… to him. 

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.” 

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks. 

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not. 

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw. 

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear. 

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.” 

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again. 

He left you speechless. 

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.” 

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink. 

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face. 

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does. 

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other. 

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness. 

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have. 

You look down, frowning at your drink. 

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table. 

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him. 

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning. 

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.  

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?” 

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.” 

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers. 

“Two sips.” 

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him. 

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you. 

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P. 

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm. 

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp. 

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you. 

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too. 

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously. 

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you? 

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little. 

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face. 

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question. 

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning. 

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington. 

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries. 

Joyce looks down in amusement. 

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike. 

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow. 

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face. 

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up. 

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table. 

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech. 

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand. 

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.” 

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little. 

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.” 

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.” 

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved. 

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again. 

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it. 

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you. 

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this. 

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.” 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. 

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness. 

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh. 

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?” 

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly. 

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!” 

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple. 

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes. 

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.” 

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be. 

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily. 

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!” 

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike. 

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle. 

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours. 

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you. 

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you. 

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans. 

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway. 

What the hell. 

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous. 

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve. 

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is. 

“Running away from me?” Steve asks. 

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights. 

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door. 

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time. 

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you. 

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?” 

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car. 

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.” 

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw. 

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car. 

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight. 

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word. 

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat. 

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it. 

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him. 

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’ 

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along. 

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something. 

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day. 

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers. 

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something. 

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him. 

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting. 

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long. 

He was guided by lust, not by interest. 

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you. 

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you. 

But it’s something that will never happen again. 

He swears, it will never happen again. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)