#but i figured it made more sense to keep this all together since this piece is so tied to the symbolism lol

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

-

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

[joontroverted]

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

[mochinek0]

Family Secrets

Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.

"Nonna!" she cried.

'Grandmother?'

"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.

"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"

"Egypt." his mother declared.

The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"

His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.

"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."

"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.

"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.

Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."

"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"

Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.

"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.

"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.

"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."

"Yes!" the girl cried.

Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.

It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.

"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.

Gina walked in Damian's direction.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.

"Of course not!" Gina snapped.

"Who is she?" he asked.

Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."

"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.

"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."

She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."

"What was it?" Damian asked.

"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."

"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"

"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."

"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject

"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."

"What about the man?" her son asked.

Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."

"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.

"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.

Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.

"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."

Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.

'Clothes? Designs?'

He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.

'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'

"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."

The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.

'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'

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[gatorbites-imagines]

Um... uh... um... would you willing to do a threesome with logan, steve rogers and X-men? reader. I think they will have an interesting dynamic or you could just add this to your kinktober list. (Btw i love your fics they made me happy and also i hope you have a nice day)

Steve Rogers x mutant male reader x Logan Howlett

Headcanons

Im guessing you mean the mutant reader from the two different things ive written with steve? Hes who Im going with at least. As a reminder to anybody who hasn’t read the other two things, the readers hero name is Titan. Not crazy detailed, but I hope its still good anyways.

You can read the other parts here and here

As mentioned in the other parts. You are, were? An X-man. X-men? You were part of their team, on and off for the years between your loss of Steve and you getting him back.

You still helped them out on the regular, going on missions where they needed a guy who couldn’t be knocked down. And yes, you did tell them everything you figure out about SHIELD and the government. You aren’t loyal to the government at all, especially since they wan to use or get rid of mutants like yourself.

You used to have a thing with Logan, but honestly, who in the x-men hasn’t had a thing with Logan at this point? You’ve joked once or twice that he’s like a bowl of mashed potatoes at thanksgiving, or a blunt at a party. Somehow his gruffness charms a lot of people.

If you weren’t so sure in your relationship, you might have been jealous when his gruffness charmed Steve too. But you knew Steve was yours and no one else, but it didn’t stop you from letting him prove it to you every now and then.

You still flirted with Logan when you went on missions together. As the only guys older than everyone else and with insane healing factors like you did, you two bonded.

It also quickly caught your eye how your boy would glance at you two. It really shouldn’t have surprised you to see Steve floundering a bit when it came to Logan. You two were so damn alike sometimes you could see Steve accidentally saying “yes sir” when Logan told him to do something.

Logan noticed it too pretty damn quickly. But for him it was more the fact that he could smell Steves interest and arousal with his heightened senses.

Logan might be an asshole most days, and he had his whole thing with Scott and Jean, but he did ask you how you felt about it, what you wanted to do and whatnot.

Like mentioned earlier, you were sure and secure in your relationship. You knew you wouldn’t lose Steve no matter what you did, and yeah, it did entertain you to watch your pretty boy stumble every now and then.

In the end you and Logan agreed to just keep it up to see where it all went. And it wasn’t like Steve saw Logan a whole lot, at least before. But now you found yourself inviting the x-men to the tower for drinks or whatever else you two got up too.

Steve tried to stay polite and leave you two to hang out together as the old friends you were, but you quickly pulled him into it. mainly because you and Logan liked to watch him blush as you both borderline purred at him.

The flirting kept up over time, and you and Logan had thought it was going in the right direction as Steve became somewhat receptive. That was until Steve one night burst into tears, burying his face into your chest as he apologized.

He was so ashamed of finding another man attractive and flirting with somebody else, he was so so sorry, he would never do it again, please forgive him. He loves you so much, it doesn’t mean anything.

It leads to you having to comfort and kiss him, rocking your lover as you explain what you and Logan had been up too, because you thought Steve would enjoy it. turns out Steve hadn’t picked up all the pieces like you thought, and had felt so bad, imagining that you’d leave him for being disloyal.

Of course, you quickly fix up that misconception, and explain everything to him. And you also had to tease him a little when his face reddened, and his pupils blew when you mentioned your past with Logan.

Youd save those stories for another day, when you needed to get him hot and bothered.

In the end you have to explain Steves reaction to Logan, since none of you wanna make anybody uncomfortable or step on anybodies toes. You both feel pretty bad about it, which is why you also agree to pamper Steve from then on.

Steve is obviously your partner and lover and has been since the 40s, meaning he’s most affectionate with you. He also wont kiss Logan on the lips, wanting it to only be with you.

Logan isn’t offended by this, he knows he’s just a third wheel in your bed, and he’s sure of himself enough to not mind. Logan is happy to get down between Steves thighs instead and lick him out as you kiss him, putting his best into it so you both can listen to Steve keen and whimper.

You two had had a few threesomes before, and yeah, it had been with Bucky every time, so this was new. But there’s a reason Logan is the x-mens shared bicycle. Dude knows what he’s doing, and boy is he skilled.

Any other time, you might have been a little jealous of somebody making your lover moan like that, but knowing it’s just Logan helps. Plus, getting Steves mouth all to yourself is pretty damn good too.

It takes a lot of work to open Steve up, his healing factor making him tighten up over time. His healing factor is nothing compared to the powers you and Logan share, but its close enough that you both know what to do.

Which means the first hour is spent on just pampering, touching and kissing on Steve as Logan works him open and pushes his way inside.

At this point Steve is a teary-eyed shivering mess as he whimpers and moans, his body quivering as Logan pulls him into his lap so you can slot up behind Steve. You and Logan aren’t small in the compartment that matters, so it takes a while to fit yourself inside Steve too, your lover throwing his head back and arching his back beautifully at the new experience.

You and Logan pretty much just sit back as Steve slowly rides you, his hands gripping Logans shoulders hard enough to bruise, even if the bruises fade almost immediately.

Steves hair a mess sticking to his forehead with sweat, his lips bitten red as his strong thighs shudder as he slowly lifts and lowers himself. When he gets too embarrassed, the blonde turns his head around to kiss you again, not wanting the two of you to hear his noises.

It being his first time doing something like this, means neither you nor Logan feel annoyed or sad that Steve spills so easily. The hour or more of prep also left him already teetering on the edge, his voice cracking as he sobs through the orgasm, thank yous spilling from his lips as he couldn’t help but thank you both for doing this with him.

Neither of you x-men got to cum, but in a situation like this it didn’t really matter, you got enough satisfaction out of getting Steve like that.

You end up on cuddle duty, lifting Steve into your arms as Logan expertly changes the sheets and blankets, letting you lay down with Steve before going off to find whatever else your lover might need.

Steve gasps a few times as Logan wipes him clean and makes him drink some water, praise falling from both your and Logans lips, telling Steve how good he did, how beautiful he is, and so on and so forth.

In the end you kinda have to bully Logan into bed with you two. He isn’t just a bootycall expected to leave the moment you guys have had your fun. Plus, Steve wants to lay squeezed between you two more than anything.

Steve ends up dozing off pretty damn quickly, exhausted but oh so satisfied. Logan and you just end up talking about whatever, before you put on some movie from the 70s you both like, the comforting rumble of your voices only putting Steve deeper to sleep.

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[munsonify]

lost bracelet

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. after finding a lost bracelet at a house party, steve keeps ahold of it in hopes someone comes looking for it. luckily for him, he notices that the pretty girl at the video store with a matching necklace.

genre. fluff

tropes. meet cute (kind of)

content warning/s. alcohol and weed consumption, making out and sexual touching (in a flashback), not proofread lol.

word count. 1448

disney princess collection

A shiny, dainty bracelet dangled, hooked on a loose screw on the brown banister of Mike Lewinski’s house. It was late, streetlights shining through the houses front doors. Even through Steve’s slightly drunken haze, the silver jewelry caught his eye quickly. The streetlights shined perfectly as it caught the dangling beauty.

Steve stumbled over slightly to the banister, thick fingers grasping at the bracelet gently as he admired it. The design looked familiar - small multicolored flowers dangling from the chain. He admired it, thoughts racing and blurring together as he tries to piece together where he’s seen this bracelet before. With a frustrated huff, he carefully slid it off of the nail, holding it in his hands as his thoughts betrayed him. Steve cant quite remember when he’s seen it. Instead of dwelling - his head beginning to pound and swirl - he hooked it around his own wrist.

“Bracelets like that are the first steps to cross dressing, Harrington. Is there something you need to tell the class?” Robin retorted in a slurred voice, stumbling to Steve’s side. Even drunk, she could find a way to poke harmlessly at her friend.

“I’ve seen it before, Rob,” He mumbled. He made his way to the door. “Think someone lost it. Gotta make sure they find it.”

Robins eyebrows raised at him, watching his drunken figure stumble out of Lewinksi’s house with a serious look on his face.

“So you decided to steal it?”

“I’ll know whose it is when I see them. Gotta keep it safe.”

Stumbling after Steve, Robin just let him be. There was no use trying to talk some sense into him, especially when he’s drunk. With a mumbled “dingus”, the two found their way to a sober Jonathan, who promised to drive them home.

A few days had passed since the night Steve found the flowered bracelet. He’d since taken it off, storing it in his jeans pocket everywhere he went. He was certain he knew who it belonged to - the memory was just buried somewhere in the back of his mind. Long fingers gently fiddled with the silver, becoming almost a nervous habit he’d become comfortable with.

There wasn’t much Steve remembered about that night. He remembered the beers and the loud thumping music, and the possibility that he’d gotten a hit off Eddie’s joint earlier in the night. He also remembered finding the bracelet - it dangled off his wrist even while he crashed and burned into his welcoming bed. He just wished he remembered who it belonged to.

His head snapped up quickly as the bell at the door of Family Video rang out. A group of young boys came in, babbling on about what rated R movie they were hoping to rent. Steve also wished he wasn’t constantly waiting for this mystery person to appear.

“If you keep getting distracted like that, Keith’s gonna fire your sorry ass,” Robin said with a glare. She caught the glare Steve threw back at her and ignored it. They both knew Kieth was too short staffed to do anything more than threaten him.

“Give it up man,” Eddie quipped, his curly hair shaking around his head as he spoke. Steve found himself, once again, fiddling with the bracelet in his pocket. It’d gotten so bad that Eddie of all people picked up on it. “You stole the bracelet, of course nobody’s gonna come looking for it.”

He earned himself a rough smack in the arm, returning with his hands up in defense. Steve seemed more pent up than usual, so Eddie dropped it. He gave him a wonky side eye, before he went outside for a smoke. One he thought Steve would benefit from.

A stack of videos rested on Steve’s hip as his eyes scan the shelves. He hadn’t worked in three days, and Kieth had somehow rearranged the entire store. That left Steve and Robin scrambling to familiarize themselves with the new set up. Steve couldn’t help but let out a frustrated huff.

He stumbled around the store with heavy feet, placing each returned film in its proper place, completely focused on his task. He was walking in circles in a dull attempt to finish the stack. Steve had already found himself in a bad mood to begin with. Rain poured outside, the dark clouds making Hawkins look more depressing than usual. He made sure to make a comment about the humidity and his hair to Robin before they were forced to work.

So engrossed in the task at hand, Steve failed to notice the front door opening. Somehow his ears didn’t register the chiming of the bell. With one last final trilogy in hand, he was determined to find its home before he even dared to look back at the register or the front door.

It wasn’t until a nice smelling perfume filled his senses that he came back to his surroundings. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He recognized that scent. It wasn’t Robins, he knew that, the scent too distinct for him not to pick up on it. It certainly wasn’t Nancy’s. He’d grown a slight adversity to it.

A sweet voice rang into his ears before he could come to his own conclusion.

“Excuse me, sir?” you asked. Steve shuffled around on his feet at the question, eyes locking with yours the moment he finds them. His eyebrows knitted together even more at the sight of a woman his age - why were you calling him sir? He quickly chalked it up to politeness.

“Can you help me find the romance section please? You must’ve rearranged the store, I can’t find it.” Your pretty smile ignited something inside of him. His mind quickly flooded with the memory he’d been looking for since the party at Lewinski’s.

He quickly remembered your soft lips against his, the gentleness of your fingers brushing through his hair, the loud music surrounding the two of you. Steve had your back pressed into a corner of the dining room, locking you in place. He remembered the strawberry lipgloss you had on, too. It was an odd contrast to the liquor on your tongue. More importantly, he remembers the pretty necklace that you wore that night. It was a perfect match to the bracelet in his back pocket.

An awkward cough escaped your throat at the sudden quietness. Your eyebrows were raised in a confused sort of way as you stared up into his eyes. You hardly noticed his blush before he turned his head. Steve began babbling about how Keith - his manager - switched everything around without warning. You followed his awkward stumble towards the new spot for romance in the store.

There was something familiar about the man, you just couldn’t pinpoint where the familiarity came from. You fiddled with the flowered necklace around your neck as you moved past the thought. Your eyes landed immediately on the romance movie you were in search of. A giddy laugh rang into Steve’s ears as you slid the video off the rack and into both hands.

You walked up to the front of the store, letting the man guide you once again. Quickly, you noticed the way he reached inside of his front pocket and fidgeted. He seemed nervous, or deep in thought. He slid behind the counter to the register, eyes flickering up at you as he speaks.

“You were at Lewinski’s party last weekend, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at the reminder. A quick nod of your head gave him his answer, though you still spoke. Steve noticed the way your nose scrunched up in annoyance. It made his heart flutter.

“Yeah, but I kinda wish I didn’t.” Your words made his heart drop. He wondered if you remembered, or if you were too far gone to recall it. Your next words washed that away, though. “I lost my bracelet that night. It was my favorite, too.”

Steve’s hand found its way down to his pocket again. This time, he tugged out a thin bracelet. The same bracelet you were missing. Your eyes lit up again at the sight of it, relief filling your body. More rambles spew from his mouth, explaining that he found it when he was heading out and didn’t want to leave it.

He felt your fingers brush against his as you took it from his hand. Your bright smile and your gentle touch had his head spinning. You rambled on much like he did about how grateful you were of him. It didn’t take long for you to get choked up on your words. The way Steve stared into your eyes, you remembered where you’d knew him from. Warmth bloomed from your neck and stretched to your face. He’d been on your mind for days - you had no idea you’d run into him like this.

You weren’t sure what stars aligned for this to happen, but you were beyond grateful it did.

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 7

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1 | Part 8

It wasn’t hard to talk to Simon—it was just… hard. But not in a bad way. It was the kind of hard that made her pause, choose her words, and really think about what she wanted to say. And honestly? That was kind of terrifying.

She had figured out one crucial detail, though: Simon Riley was a really good listener.

Not the kind of listening where someone just nodded along and threw in a polite “oh, really?” No, Simon listened like every word she said mattered. Like he was gathering pieces of her story, stitching them together in that quiet, focused way of his.

His brow would furrow when something didn’t quite click for him, and she’d catch herself explaining things in more detail just to smooth out that little wrinkle between his eyes. Other times, he’d give her a small, almost shy smile, lips pressed tight as though he was holding back. And when he did decide to speak—rare as it was—his sense of humor was… well, awful.

Dry, sarcastic, and so poorly timed that it made her laugh harder than it should have.

But the most important thing? His eyes.

They had never left hers.

It wasn’t just polite eye contact. It was deep, unwavering, intentional. Those warm, brown irises seemed to pull her in, like magnets designed to drag her under his surface. Every time she tried to look away—to collect herself, to focus on something less overwhelming—she’d find herself drawn back to him.

And in those moments, the noise of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the hum of conversation… all of it faded. It was just her and Simon, his gaze anchoring her to the spot, making her feel seen in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

It wasn’t just attraction. It wasn’t just curiosity about the man behind the mask. It was something quieter, something deeper.

It was connection.

It had been a long time since she’d felt like this—so long, in fact, that she didn’t even know how to articulate it to herself.

Was there even a word for it? This warm, jittery, completely maddening sensation in her chest?

She didn’t know, but damn, she was into him.

Into every little thing about him—the way his voice wrapped around words like they were secrets meant only for her ears, the way he moved, so calculated yet effortless, as though every step was planned without trying to be. Even the way he drank his bourbon, the subtle way his lips pressed against the glass.

And that… that was terrifying.

Because the truth was, she didn’t know much about him. Not really.

God knows she’d tried. She had peppered him with questions earlier—little things about his day, what he liked, if he’d always been this serious—and he? He was as cold as a stone wall when anything remotely personal came up. It wasn’t rude, exactly, just… unyielding.

And there was no way in hell she’d push him. No. That wasn’t her. She wouldn’t pry, wouldn’t force him to share.

But it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Because damn it, she wanted to keep him around.

Not just as the guy who drove me home that one crazy night. She wanted a second date. A third. A fourth. She wanted…

Shit.

She wanted him.

“What you thinkin’ so much?” His low, rumbling voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

“What—huh? Me? Thinking? No, I mean—yes! I think, like, most people do, but—”

“Careful,” he murmured, his eyes sparking with amusement, “might bite ya tongue.”

The grin tugging at his lips was slight but devastating, sending heat straight to her cheeks.

And just like that, he had her spinning all over again.

She leaned back slightly in her seat, trying to steady the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her nerves were rattling inside her like a thousand tiny earthquakes, but hell, she wasn’t about to let that show. She needed to feel confident—wanted to feel confident—not this shy, not this flustered. Not this… undone.

"I want a wine," she blurted, scanning the room for a waiter like her life depended on it.

Simon didn’t respond immediately, and the silence was deafening. She shifted in her seat, suddenly hyperaware of his stillness. "Everything's fine?" she asked, hesitantly.

His response came low and even, carrying a strange weight. "Not a big fan."

"Of wine?"

"…Can’t handle it well."

Her lips parted in a silent gasp, her mind racing. Oh. My. God. Was it bad that her immediate thought—her absolutely terrible thought—was to see him a little tipsy? Just a little? She could practically feel the wicked urge tugging at her. It was irresponsible. Immature.

And, apparently, irresistible.

"Maybe a cup won't hurt you, Simon," she said, trying to keep her tone light, teasing.

His eyes—those unrelenting, burning brown eyes—locked onto hers, and her heart stuttered. He didn’t move, didn’t shift. Just looked. And in that moment, she was sure of two things:

1: He knew exactly what she was doing. 2: He was going to make her pay for it.

"Hm. Really?"

The words were a challenge, laced with that unmistakable edge of his.

She swallowed, feeling her resolve waver. "…We can share a cup."

"Can we?"

"Yes?"

His head tilted slightly, assessing her like a predator deciding whether the hunt was worth it. Then he leaned back in his seat, the tiniest smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fine."

Fuck.

Her pulse raced, and she could already feel her cheeks burning again. What had she just done?

Simon wasn’t an impulsive man. He never let his feelings dictate his actions. Discipline was his armor; control was his weapon.

Until now.

Until her.

Her laugh still echoed faintly in his head, soft and teasing, like it had been etched there. And now this—this moment, this glass of wine—was tipping him over some edge he hadn’t realized he was standing on.

What the hell are you thinking, Riley?

The question circled his mind as he took another sip, the rich red liquid burning less than he remembered. Or maybe it was the heat in her gaze that dulled everything else. Her eyes stayed on him, shining like they held secrets he wanted to pry out. And her lips—soft, slightly parted, tinted just right—were driving him mad.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a small, almost absent-minded gesture, and yet, it had him utterly fixated. Every move she made seemed calculated to undo him, and worse, he wasn’t sure if she even knew it.

Fuck, he wanted her.

He wanted her to want him, too.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice dipping slightly, pulling his attention back to her lips.

"Late," he answered, the word coming out rougher than he intended. He didn’t bother looking at his watch; the time didn’t matter.

Her eyebrow arched, playful, daring him. "…Really, late?"

Sarcasm. Teasing. She was testing him, pulling at the string between them to see how tight it could stretch.

"Really late," he repeated, his voice quieter this time, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else but her.

And then it was just… there. That thick, invisible tension wrapping around them like a cord, pulling tighter with every shared glance, every stolen breath.

The air felt heavy, charged, like it could ignite if one of them moved an inch closer. Their bodies stayed still, a careful distance apart, but their eyes… their eyes refused to let go.

He didn’t blink, didn’t look away.

What’s next?

The question clawed at him, louder than his heartbeat, louder than reason.

His hands twitched, the slightest movement, as if they were ready to reach for her. To break the distance. To shatter the moment.

What do you want from her, Riley?

The thought settled in the pit of his stomach like a weight he wasn’t ready to carry.

Where do you want this to go?

The answer was right there, coiled in his chest, hot and undeniable.

Fuckin’ hell.

Simon had never been in this situation before. Well, not exactly this situation. Sure, he'd had his fair share of nights where things spiraled a little too far out of control, but this? Sitting across from her, her lips flushed from the wine, her laughter soft and too sweet, her hands resting on the table like an invitation? This was new.

He wasn’t in any condition to drive, and he knew it. The wine had gone straight to his head, his pulse pounding louder than reason. He was good at hiding it—so damn good at keeping his composure—but not tonight.

She caught it. Of course, she caught it.

His eyes betrayed him, breaking from her face to linger on her hands, tracing the curve of her knuckles as she fidgeted with her glass. They dipped lower, to her shoulders, her neck, the line of her collarbone disappearing beneath the fabric of her dress.

He cleared his throat, trying to reset, but she was staring back now, wide-eyed and flushed, and that damn tension was snapping tighter by the second.

"So… how are we getting home, huh?" Her voice wavered, but her smile stayed steady, teasing.

He blinked, his brain working slower than usual. Drive? Right. He wasn’t driving. Absolutely not. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk that, but… he also wasn’t ready to let this night end.

He pulled out his phone, fumbling slightly as he swiped at the screen. "Uber," he muttered, voice gravelly.

She laughed, a soft, almost nervous sound. "Oh, a real Uber this time? Not the personal one?"

He glanced up, catching her grin, and something in his chest tightened. "Don’t push it," he muttered, but his lips twitched just enough to betray him.

The Uber arrived quickly, and they stumbled out into the cool night air. Simon opened the door for her—always, always—his hand brushing her lower back as she climbed in.

She didn’t notice, not at first. She was busy pulling out her phone, probably texting Lottie or someone equally amused about the fact she was heading home with him. But then…

The driver’s voice broke the silence. "So, your address is…?"

Simon leaned forward, his voice steady but quieter now. "Hers."

Her head snapped up, her heart lurching so fast it hurt. "Wait, what?"

He didn’t even look at her, just leaned back against the seat, his arms crossed over his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"My house?" Her voice cracked, disbelief flooding her chest.

"You got a problem with tha'?"

Oh, her brain was short-circuiting now. "I—uh, no, it’s just…" Fucking shit, is he STAYING? Is he STAYING at my place?

Her heart hammered harder, racing into the kind of panic that wasn’t fear, but anticipation.

Shit, shit, shit. Did I shave?

Her eyes darted to him again, her cheeks flaming. He looked so calm, but she knew better. She could see the way his hands twitched, the way his gaze dipped to her legs for a fraction too long before darting back to the window.

She felt the warmth rise in her throat, a blend of nerves and something deeper, darker.

And then it hit her.

This wasn’t just about him staying. It wasn’t about whether she shaved, or whether she had fresh sheets, or if she had leftover takeout in the fridge to awkwardly offer him.

This was about the fact that he chose her.

And hell, if she wasn’t ready for it… but maybe that was the point.

Her house.

Her rules.

Her Simon.

She bit her lip, her mind spiraling, her pulse racing, and as the Uber sped down the empty streets, she decided… whatever happened next, she wasn’t holding back.

Her thumbs moved faster than her brain, texting Millie in a frenzy. The Uber wasn’t even halfway to her place, and already her head was spinning.

Her breathing quickened as she stared at her phone, waiting for Millie’s reply. A second felt like an eternity.

She glanced at Simon, who was sitting completely still, staring out the window like the world outside held all the answers. His shoulders were so broad, his jaw set, his hands resting on his thighs.

Oh fuck.

Cool? COOL? She wasn’t sure she knew what “cool” was anymore.

She stared at the screen, Millie’s rare display of actual best-friend-mode sincerity grounding her, if only slightly.

She sucked in a deep breath, clutching the phone like it was a lifeline.

She glanced at Simon again, and her pulse fluttered. He turned his head slightly, catching her in his peripheral. His eyes flicked down to her phone.

“You alright?”

Oh god. His voice. Deep and low, like he knew she was spiraling.

“Y-yeah! Just… texting Millie.”

“About me?”

Her face burned. “No!”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. He didn’t press further, but she saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

And just like that, her nerves flared again, but this time… she kind of liked it.

Tags ♥: @sleep101 @all-by-myself98 @h0ney-mushroom

Omg, next chapter.... next chapter.... (evil laugh)

[junosmindpalace]

May I request Senku developing a crush on his childhood friend after the petrification? fem!reader if possible (if not gn!reader is completely fine)

hope you have a good day :)

Something is different. 

Senku isn’t referring to his environment, which is so far removed from everything he used to know and love. Instead of brick buildings and concrete pavements, there is seemingly never ending forestry, green and gravel beneath the heels of his makeshift shoes. 

It isn’t Senku’s clothing, which is only some thin tattered animals skins that he had spent days working to hunt down the material for, then skin, then tan, and then stitch together with whatever he could to make the haphazard, ugly garment he wears on the regular to provide him with whatever kind of protection from the elements he can with the resources available to him. It’s a stark contrast to the color he used to wear long ago. 

It isn’t even the new friends (and enemies) he’s made since freeing himself from his petrified state. A whole village of people, now, who look toward him for guidance and instruction, upon him with admiration and reverence. People who help him against the newfound stakes, newfound work, newfound responsibilities that haven’t in the slightest been easy to take on. 

Something is different, and amongst nearly everything in his life becoming dirt and dust nearly overnight, Senku is referring to something different about you. 

But he isn’t referring to the environment he’s used to seeing you in, a school setting, perhaps a park, maybe his own room. There’s no new observation to make about a change in your room or a decoration in your locker, because like him, those things are long gone. 

It isn’t your appearance, a similar reflection of your new environments and state of the world. Random pieces of tanned skin poorly stitched into something that resembled clothing, a Frankenstien’s monster of a garment. More simple and plain assuming compared to the various designs and fabrics you wore way back when you’d spend time on an experiment with Senku. He watched you mature from one phase of your life into the next, and this was no different.

It wasn’t even the new people you surround yourself with, found comfort within. It wasn’t listening to their stories, the things that made these people, so far removed from your time, human. It wasn’t the small, pleasant things that he knew grounded you when you got too caught up in your head, the new habits you made out of retrieving materials, crafting things to keep your hands (and mind) busy, new skills you learned (or were forced to learn) and previous skills you learned to develop.

But for the life of him, Senku cannot figure out what it is that’s different. He drives himself a little further mad each time he looks on at you. There’s something in his mind, almost like an itch, that intrusively takes hold on the rest of his senses when there’s a moment between the two of you, whether it’s a quiet one, whether it’s one of shared excitement or mutual understanding. There’s a warmth and a chill that wash over him at the same time when your gaze settles on him a little too intensely, or when you say something wise and agreeable. There is something he’s missing, and he can’t figure out what. 

Maybe it’s your laugh that’s different, though Senku doesn’t know why that would be a thing of prominent notice, or notice at all. It’s a little rougher, and at times with a little less heart than he’s accustomed to after so many years of hearing it bright and enthusiastic. But it’s still kind, and most of all, genuine. Perhaps something about that makes it distinguishable from another. 

Or perhaps it was your new approach to, your new outlook on, life. No, perhaps it was the way you applied your already existing approaches and outlooks to your new, unique circumstances. To help cope, to help others, to help him. 

It was something different, Senku was sure of it. However, he hasn’t had much time to linger on what could possibly be the source of such…irritation, for very long. 

Perhaps a more irritating point was the fact that Senku could hardly place a time when he first observed this difference. 

At the very least, he could estimate it to be sometime after the both of you emerged from the stone. 

The simplest solution, perhaps, could be for him to just ask you directly. It’s the easiest way to confirm or deny hypotheses’. He would ask if you had gotten haircuts in the past, ask if you had gotten any sleep after noticing prominent circles under your eyes and sluggish movements. This was no different.

But when Senku finds himself hesitating on an evening when the two of you are working in the lab together, Senku thinks that maybe this is the different thing. For some reason, he’s slower to communicating such personal things, despite it being nothing more than simple, casual and menial conversation. 

You’ve had hundreds of conversations about a million different things over the years, from careers you aspire to pursue in earnest to the more daunting topics about love and loss. He’s seen every side of you, good and ugly, he’s heard every side of you. Every insecurity, every point of pride, about every friend who’s come and gone and stayed behind; and in a more Senku like fashion, you’ve heard the same from him, in that straightforward and logical way of communicating that you’ve always been able to see through from the wavers in his voice to the passionate glints in his eyes. 

But something is different. Something has been different. 

Yet the two of you work away in the lab as if it were any other evening, the twinkling stars in the sky he admires so much hidden away by the walls and bamboo roof. It’s what you’ve been doing since you’ve established some sort of lab to work out of ever since the petrification. Senku has felt quite disturbed by this difference of yours, but at the very least, he finds it comforting that it doesn’t affect this routine that the two of you established early on in your relationship. The content, collaborative efforts the two of you put in to create something satisfying, worthwhile; exciting. 

It’s what he’s always felt with you in your relationship. Thrill to indulge in something he’s passionate about together, thrill to create something with you, thrill to be with you--

Senku pauses his work for a moment. He shifts his gaze from the notes in front of him to where you stand just down the opposite end of the table, completely enamored with the tests you were performing. 

Something is different. He thinks, at that moment, that he’s almost figured out what. 

But the realization he was about to reach disappears from him suddenly, and he can’t seem to become conscious of the conclusion when he stares at you. He tries desperately to recall it, reach for it in his mind, through a frantic look at your features. The warm light against your skin, the gentle movement of your hands, the concentrated furrow of your brows. 

His heart feels like it might burst out of frustration the more he looks at you, and he forces himself to turn away. It’s there, it was there!

(And it still was.)

He’ll figure it out eventually.

[renstardust]

Two months.

It had been exactly two months since you fled the First Order, leaving behind your life as Apprentice beneath Commander Ren.

You left without any trace or explanation. Ren assumed you left because you didn’t think anyone would care; that they could track down another dark side loving Force-user with ease. He worried that maybe, you thought you were disposable.

It’s not like the lingering glances or touches between you and your Master meant anything anyway — it was all just business. Neither of you had time for feelings or any of that soft shit.

He assumed you’d think he wouldn’t care if you left. That if anything, he’d probably be relieved. That he could find someone older, stronger, more serious about being in one of the most sought after positions in the galaxy.

Kylo was losing his fucking mind, actually.

The worst part was that he could feel you. Everywhere. Not just in the Force signature you’d left behind that lingered in the cold, metal hallways of the Supremacy, or in your former quarters (the same quarters he now only visits once a day, sometimes twice), but he could feel you, out there, running about.

Driving him utterly insane.

He replayed every little conversation in his head, every moment you’d spent together: training sessions, meditations, meal times, quiet moments in cockpits during missions. Trying to piece together every memory, trying to figure out exactly when and how he screwed up.

What he did — or didn’t do — to keep you.

Losing you made Kylo realize how deeply he actually felt about you. The sound of your voice that he felt soothed by, the way your black clothes hugged your body in a manner that would make his pants feel uncomfortably tight, how graceful and calculative your combat skills looked, both in training and actual fights.

He missed the warmth of your scent. The softness of your hair. Those beautiful fucking eyes. Your little quirks, your sense of humor, your confidence, your occasional stubbornness, your persistence.

Gods, he missed you. You haunted his dreams, interrupted his meditation sessions, caused a tightness in his chest that hasn’t disappeared since the day you were suddenly gone.

As if you were never here to begin with.

Kylo’s lip trembled, tears pricking at his hazel eyes as he sat in his quarters after a particularly rough day of training with the Knights. He shook his head, shoving his feelings aside, including the everlasting urge to go sit in your old quarters across the hall and try to smell the barely-there scent of your perfume. He still hasn’t let the cleaning droids come near that room.

Was he….grieving you?

Should he go looking for you? Maybe he could coax you back-

“Why is everyone being a dick to me today?”

Your voice suddenly filled his quarters, pulling him from his daze, the metal door sliding shut behind you. Kylo blinked, tense as ever, quickly rising from his seat and adjusting himself. His eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted.

“I get it, I took a little leave to visit my family, but I really needed it, and I’m glad I did it. Two months without my datapad was really refreshing too. It’s not my fault everyone else here is married to their job.”

Kylo cleared his throat, confused as all hell.

“Apprentice-“

“Especially Hux! He looked at me like I was a ghost. I get that we aren’t on the greatest terms, but he could’ve at least acknowledged me with a nicety.”

“APPRENTICE.”

Your lips snapped shut, eyes widening at your Master’s stern, husky voice. The extra deep version that you only heard when he was at his breaking point.

“What, Kylo?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“…On vacation? I sent everyone notice like three weeks before I left. And the night before…?”

“Nobody knew you went on vacation.”

“But Officer Mitaka told me to have fun before I left.”

A beat of silence. A creak of leather in Kylo’s gloved hands, now squeezing into big fists. Tight, trembling fists.

“Which database did you forward the notice to?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Eleven. I usually message in eleven.”

“Highest ranking officials message in database thirteen, Apprentice.”

Your pupils dilate, lips parting. “Fuck, is that why none of you guys reacted to the pictures I sent?”

Kylo didn’t know whether he wanted to kill you, or take you right then and there. Irritation and relief pulsed through his body simultaneously as he took in slow breaths of frustration. He was fucking pissed.

And so, so fucking happy.

You were here.

You never really left.

Kylo pulled his lips into his mouth, eyes darkening before he responded. “Medbay. Now. Let’s go.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting you tagged, Apprentice.”

[thetriplets3]

When you're about to cry and he does that "hey, hey" thing

please do this with chris

❝𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬❞

chris and i have been together for almost 4 months now having met at a small get together of a mutual friend, which when it comes to them a small get together turns into a party.

-flashback-

i had wandered off starting to feel overwhelmed from the constant talking around me. soon enough i found myself in a room that was turned into a makeshift music studio. the room felt inviting and safe for me to hid in for a while. any open space that wasn’t cover with furniture of some kind was filled with more plants than i could name. the warm soft light beckoned me to make myself comfortable, choosing a bean bag nestled in the corner for an extra sense of security. i curled into myself getting comfy figuring it’d be a while till my friend wanted to go home since i went with her. shutting my eyes i listened to the soft sound of the music playing from the other side of the house. the sound of the mini fridge closing startled me, snapping me back to reality.

“oh shit my bad i didn’t think anyone would be here sorry if i scare you. i was just grabbing a pepsi and was hang out here for a bit but i can go if you wanna be alone i mean you came up here for a reason”

“no no you’re good you can stay i just needed to get away from the crowd it was too much for me. so much for a small get together i should have expected this”

“i get that that’s why i came up here. want a drink? there’s pepsi, root beer, water or iced tea?”

“iced tea please”

he grabbed my drink and made himself comfortable on the adjacent bean bag and didn’t hesitate to ask if i was okay and if i needed anything having heard me mention the party was getting too much for me. i had just met him and he wanted to make sure i was okay, something about that just warmed my heart how concerned he was. we began talking about how we knew the host and the more we talked the more we realized how much we had in common. i’m usually wary of men joining me if i’m alone at a party, you can’t trust everyone most of the time they’re drunk or have some weird intention, but something about chris just made me feel automatically safe. before i knew it it was 4 hours later my friend came in the room outta breath complaining how she’d looked everywhere for me and that she’s ready to go home. not wanting to keep her waiting any longer but also not wanting to leave chris, i begrudgingly get up from my comfy spot.

“i’m sorry i’ve gotta go she’s my ride. thanks for keeping me company i really liked talking to you”

“me too. would i be able to get your number? i’d love to see you again if that’s not too forward”

-5 months later-

safe to say i gave him my number. when we first started dating we both opened up about being hesitant of relationships seeing as it’s my first one and he’d been hurt before, the whole idea of dating was unfamiliar to us but we worked through it and i think getting all of our worries and insecurities out really strengthen our relationship.

despite bring together for a few months he’s yet to see me cry which i know isn’t a big deal but that’s just who i am. i’m a sensitive person but i hold it in and break when i’m alone. i was always a very emotional empathetic child the slightest thing made me cry whether it be sad or happy tears. constantly being told “stop crying” or “you’re crying over that?” really got to me now i try and keep my emotions in.

sure chris has seen me get upset or worked up about something so silly. one time i was putting the dishes away and could hardly reach the mug shelf but nonetheless i tried putting a mug in a spot that looked like it’d fit and pushed it a little too hard knocking the mug i made for chris when i did a pottery class on a friends birthday. the mug was coming straight towards i tried catching it but couldn’t and it landed on the ground with a loud smash. tears instantly pricked my eyes seeing the cup i was so proud of smashed to pieces.

third person

chris was playing video games in the living room with his headset on, one ear slightly uncovered so he could listen to you softly sing to your music finding comfort in your voice and presence. a shattering sound followed by your silence had him ripping his headset off and running to the kitchen to see you with the saddest frown on your face and your breathing picking up. rushing over to you he kicks the remnants of the mug out of the way.

-your pov-

“what happened? are you okay? are you hurt? did you step on any pieces?” his voice filled with concern as his eyes dart across my face for any signs of hurt.

“your mug. i broke your mug” my voice so quiet it’s barely audible but the cracks in it indicating in close to tears.

“oh baby it’s okay it’s just a mug i can get another one as long as you’re okay i’m not concerned about the mug. are you okay?” he says lifting my chin drawing my attention to him instead of the tragedy on the floor.

“but it’s the mug i made you your favorite mug and i just smashed it to pieces i’m sorry i shouldn’t have tried reaching when i knew i couldn’t. i broke your mug” i spew out apologies as tears start escaping my eyes.

“hey hey no tears baby. look at me forget about the mug for a sec i care more about you right now, are you okay?” he says cupping my cheeks as his thumbs rub across my cheeks in a soothing manner, wiping away tears as they fell.

“yes i’m okay”

“good i’m glad” he says as he lifts me onto the counter away from the shards and stands between my legs. “i’m not upset about the mug baby. yes it was my favorite mug but only because i know you made it and i loved how excited you were that you made a mug on your first try making pottery. it melted my heart that you could have made anything and you immediately thought to make something for me. it was the thought and love that went into the mug that made me love it. things are replaceable no need to get upset i’m glad you didn’t get hurt. i appreciate you putting the dishes away you didn’t have to do that”

“you had a busy week i just wanted you to relax and not have to deal with the dishes but then i made a whole scene and- and i- your mug” my voice falters, eyes still watery.

“nope don’t wanna hear it pretty girl i’m not upset or mad don’t worry about it okay. i’ll clean it up. how about for our next date we do pottery huh how’s that sound? then i can make you something too i have ideas already”

“i love you thank you for being so gentle with me and my silly feelings”

“i’d never get upset or over something like this or anything really. it’s not silly for you to be upset over this i know you were proud of it you’re allowed to be sad. i love you and i think it’s beautiful that you have the capacity to feel things so deeply” he wraps his arms around body one arm holding my head to his chest as he plants kisses to my hair.

i love the way he loves me

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @strniolo @abbie13sworld @luvsturniolo

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Bespoke kisses

Gil-Galad x reader. Modern AU. NSFW!!

*****

You really thought you had made it. 

“I knew you could do it, (name)!” your friend Mirdania comments happily as you both walk out of the door, leaving the large building that houses the Arda Fashion Academy, which you both attend as final year students, behind you. She is prettier than ever in her deep green halter dress -personally designed by her, of course, just like you created your shirt and altered your knee-length skirt so that it better fits your body; nothing more natural, for two budding fashion designers like you are! “That three-piece suit was beautiful, I knew the examination board would appreciate it!”

You smile, sincerely flattered and happy for your recent success, even though, you have to admit, she is the one who should be congratulated, since the mullet dress she created was enthusiastically received by the board, and was awarded the highest marks among the thirty submissions on behalf of as many seniors, and she was the first student selected for the internship. “I bet the designers came to blow for the privilege of having you as an intern.”

“Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating…”

You are -just a little- but it’s hard not to feel overenthusiastic in a moment like this. The internship you and your friend have been selected for is an exceptional opportunity, the sort that happens only once in a person’s life; the Arda, the country’s most prestigious institution in the field of fashion, has established a collaboration with three important designers, each of whom would be be paired with a final year student for a six months collaboration. The selection was to be based, as well as on the hopefuls’ academic records, on the submission of a personal creation: a set of clothing, be it a dress, a suit, a simple trousers-and-shirt combination -someone submitted a bikini paired with a sarong, flip-flops and a beach hat- that a panel of the Arda’s most respected lecturers would judge. 

As expected, most of your fellow seniors applied for the internship, and you and Mirdania were among the three chosen, together with a talented student named Elrond, who you know less well. You really can’t wait to begin: not only a period of employment in a prestigious fashion house will undoubtedly improve your resumé, but you’ll have the chance to see a talented designer at work, and to learn from them; the pay is low and between the internship and the classes you’ll still have to attend you’ll end up sleeping three hours per night, but who cares? Fashion has always been your passion, and while being admitted to the Arda was the first step to fulfilling your ambition of becoming a famous designer, you feel this could be your chance - the chance to find new inspiration for your works and learn on the field, rather than in class. 

And who knows, I would not be the first intern who remains to work for their mentor even after the allotted time… 

“I still can’t believe I am going to meet Celebrimbor, the Celebrimbor, tomorrow.” Mirdania comments as you both walk towards the metro station, which is where you’ll have to part to return home. Your friend has long been an admirer of one of the designers who offered their collaboration to the school, and was ecstatic to learn Celebrimbor had expressly asked for her as an intern, having been favourably impressed by her submission “I swear, I keep pinching myself because I think it might be a dream!”

“You’re not dreaming; and since he has already proven to appreciate your work, I’m sure you’ll enjoy working for him.”

“I think so too. What about you? Looking forward to putting a face to Gil-Galad’s name?”

You have to admit you are more than a little curious. Unlike Celebrimbor and Cirdan, the designer Elrond will intern for, your allotted mentor, Gil-Galad, is a mysterious figure in the world of fashion, well-known for his sense of style that has been appreciated, and worn, by celebrities all over the world, but very few people can say to have met him. He is probably the only fashion designer in the world who does not attend his own shows, nor does he give interviews in person - only by phone or mail. No official, proven picture of him exists on the internet, and you have heard that his closest collaborators -an inner circle among which, you imagine, you are going to be admitted tomorrow- are required to sign a non-disclosure agreement to swear not to share his personal information with third parties.

All it is known about Gil-Galad is that he’s a male, native of Lindon, and probably on the young side, since he started making a name for himself only a few years ago, soon before you started attending the Arda, and the rest is nothing more than gossip and assumptions; there is even the possibility he is using a pseudonym rather than his real name. The thought that you are going to meet such an elusive personage, whose identity fashion lovers and journalists all over the world would give an arm to discover, is intriguing, but all things considered, the personal matters of your mentor are none of your business; all you want is to learn as much as you can from him, and hopefully begin your career as a fashion designer.

“A little bit.”

“I can imagine. We’re celebrating tonight, yes? It’s Friday, we can go to the Moria.”  

The Moria is one of the city’s best-known clubs; the music is good, the cocktails even better, and you always have a good time there, especially on Friday, when the club hosts its famous theme nights.

“I don’t know, Mirdania.” you confess as you follow your friend down the steps leading to the metro station, surrounded by a veritable crowd moving in both directions; it’s almost rush hour, and you already know that finding a seat on the train will be impossible “You do remember we are going to meet our mentors tomorrow, yes? I was planning on going to bed early, to be well-rested…”

Your friend assures you she is as determined as you are to make a good impression, and doesn’t plan on showing up to the Arda for her first meeting with Celebrimbor still tipsy from the night before, her make-up smudged and her breath smelling like alcohol. “But we do deserve to celebrate, don’t we? Come on, just a couple hours! We have a drink, we dance a bit, and then we return home. Keep in mind how busy we will be for the next six months!”

She has a point, you have to admit as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, especially because you haven’t been to the Moria, or to any club or pub for that matter, in ages, since you were so busy with your classes and preparing your submission to the internship. An eight-, or even nine-, hours sleep would do you a world of good, but on the other hand, you do feel the need to celebrate…

By the time you have come to a decision, you and Mirdania have reached the station’s central joint: from here you’ll have to part to take different lines. 

“Alright; I’m in.”

“Great! We’ll have fun, I’m sure.” Mirdania comments happily, her excitement contagious as you find yourself smiling “We deserve it, (name); we won fair and square.”

You assure her that you know, and your friend promises she’ll come pick you up at your apartment that night. You had no doubts she would be chosen for the apprenticeship, since Mirdania is undoubtedly the most talented student in your year, but you are happy the panel recognised the value of her work. You were a little less sure about yourself, since there are so many talented designers in your course, but since you got in as well, you have to have done something better than the others, right?

“I’ll see you tonight.” you promise, and Mirdania waves you goodbye as she walks away, her bright blonde hair soon swallowed by the crowd; you linger for a moment, already excited both for the night awaiting you and the day that will follow, and then turn to walk towards your train. 

*****

You really thought you had nothing to worry about. 

One of your favourite fashion designers, you read once in their autobiography, used their siblings as models at the beginning of their career, since they couldn’t afford to pay professional ones. You can’t do the same, being an only child, and most of your friends don’t have the time, or the patience, to let you spend hours fitting clothes on them, which is why most of your creations, except those you realise as presents, are tailored on a specific body type: yours.

Wearing the three-piece suit that won you to the internship for your celebration night felt like the most natural choice, and as you observe your reflection in the full-length mirror of your bedroom, having already taken care of your hair and make-up, you have to admit you do look good; more importantly, you feel good, and are quite proud of your creation. 

A quick honk outside your window announces Mirdania’s arrival. You go out to meet her, and when you find yourself face to face with your friend, both of you burst into laughter: like they say, great minds think alike, and Mirdania looks amazing in the mullet dress the internship panel awarded full marks to. 

“I doubt this is the Moria’s style.” you point out, amused. 

“I don’t care; come on, I need one of Durin’s drinks.”

You happily sing along with the radio during the short ride to the club, and finally the Moria appears in front of you. You leave your coats at the entrance, and as you predicted, almost every person present turns to look at you and Mirdania as you step in the room, intrigued by your clothes; you and your friend share an amused smile, and you privately have to admit how flattered you feel, even though as a fashion designer what you enjoy is creating clothes, not wearing them yourself. 

“Oh, it’s you guys; and here I thought two top models were gracing my humble club with their presence.” the barman and owner, Durin, jokes when he sees you approach, already busy preparing drinks behind the counter “You really put the rest of my clientele to shame tonight.”

“Thank you, Durin; we made these ourselves!”

“You both look lovely, truly. I wish I had worn a suit like yours on my wedding day, (name), rather than looking like a penguin…”

A grand piano is set on the stage at the centre of the room, a young musician playing a classic piece you vaguely remember hearing before. You and Mirdania decide to sit at the counter for a while, nursing the drinks Durin has already prepared for you. You let your gaze drift over the room, the people sitting at the small tables surrounding the stage, the soft notes soaring from the piano, the few couples who have already started dancing, gently swaying in the arms of their partner. You should feel happy tonight, relieved for your success and excited to begin your internship, and you do! You are happy, even though at the same time you can’t help but feel a bit wistful, and worried…

Mirdania is asking Durin about his wife, Disa, who recently gave birth to their first child, but then she notices your expression, and preoccupation colours her lovely face. “(name), are you alright?”

“Yes, yes; I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About the future. About where I will be, nine months from now.”

By then, barring accidents, you will have graduated from the Arda, free and at the same time forced to begin earning your living. “I thought you planned on finding a job in an important fashion house, just like me.” she points out; that is the most natural choice for a person with your education, unless they are exceptionally talented -or exceptionally wealthy- and are therefore able to get the funding to open a fashion house of their own. 

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know if I can actually manage that.” you confess, to Mirdania’s open surprise; while you like to think you are not as presumptuous as some of your fellow students, who already imagine themselves as top selling designers, whose creations grace the covers of magazines and fetch top dollars among celebrities and members of the elite, it’s not like you to doubt your talent and potential, not to mention your chance of turning your passion in a profitable career.

“Why shouldn’t you? You are one of the best students of our course, you have obtained a prestigious internship, and many alumni of the Arda went on to become famous designers.”

“Yes, but not all of them; in fact, I bet many former students ended up doing something else, and not because of lack of talent. Fashion is one of the most difficult fields in which to break in; why should I succeed where so many others have failed?”

“(name)...”

“I’m sorry.” you murmur, suddenly melancholic, and scared, for a reason you can’t quite describe. Rationally speaking you have every reason to be happy, satisfied, and even hopeful regarding your professional future, given your excellent academic record and the prestigious work opportunity you just obtained, but thinking that at the end of it you’ll be only a few weeks away from your graduation led you to reflect on your future, which you have never felt more pessimistic about “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight…” 

Who says your academic successes will be enough to guarantee you a career in the field of your choice? So many aspiring artists, actors and singers and writers, wait years and even decades for their big break, which never comes, no matter how good an education they have received, and even how objectively talented they are; it’s the same, or even worse, in the field of fashion, where maybe one out of a hundred or more hopefuls reaches some level of notoriety. 

You already knew when you enrolled in the Arda how hard it would have been to actually become famous, or even just earn your living, as a fashion designer, and you don’t regret choosing such a difficult field to work in. Fashion has been your passion, your only ambition, ever since you watched shows on television with your mother and your grandmother taught you to sew when you were ten, and there would be nothing shameful in having to get another job to support yourself while you wait for your shot to stardom. But if you think that while you wait might end up meaning the rest of your life, and that your years at the Arda, and all the time and effort you have dedicated to your dream, all the hopes and the ambition, might amount to nothing, and you will have to work maybe a steady, even prestigious job, but that you find no joy or even just interest in, just to pay your rent and bills…

Oh, God; what am I doing? Maybe I should stop while I still can, and get a job at a  supermarket or as a bank teller, it’ll be less exciting but at least I won’t have to fear any disappointment…

“You want to return home? I can drive you, it’s not a problem.” Mirdania proposes, an offer you actually consider but that you don’t have the heart to accept, given how excited your friend was about tonight.  

“No, I’m fine; it’s probably because of the stress of these past weeks.” you try to reassure her, forcing yourself to smile “I just need to relax.” “If you change your mind we can leave; I don’t mind, truly.”

You thank your friend, sincerely grateful, and do your best to relax and enjoy the music and your drink, both of them actually good. You turn your gaze back to the piano, the musician having now switched to a melancholic jazz piece… 

… and then, almost casually, your eyes meet those of a man sitting across the room from you, and time seems to stop.

He has dark hair, and is wearing something black; that is all you can see of him, given the distance and the soft light permeating the club, but it’s his gaze that compels you… a gaze intense and open, even blatant, proper of a person who feels no shame in expressing their thoughts and feelings. 

He seems to have stared at you longer than you have been aware of; the man smiles at you, and you smile back, suddenly shy, and force yourself to look away to talk to Durin. 

A few minutes later a man your age approaches the two of you: it’s Malendol, a friend of Mirdania you know she has a particular interest in. You chat for a while, and soon after your friend is invited to dance.

“I’d like that, but…”

“No buts; you go and dance.” you tell her, well aware she’d decline in order not to leave you alone; you actually don’t mind, and the last thing you want is for your bad mood to ruin your friend’s night “Come on, off you go.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

“Absolutely sure. Malendol, keep her away for at least half an hour.”

He nods, grinning at you, and a moment later your friend is walking towards the dancefloor, her dress once more attracting the attention of whoever she walks past. 

Durin smiles at you, his arms resting on the counter. “That was kind of you.”

“No one wants to be the third wheel with a friend and a potential partner; and I don’t want to infect her with my bad mood.”

“Something bad happened?”

“No, and that’s the worst thing of all. I should be happy, but…”

“Hello.”

You realise it’s him even before looking; you remain still for a moment, suddenly struggling to swallow, and then turn, offering your best smile. “Hello.”

The first thing you notice, as natural for a future professional in the field of fashion, is his suit; expensive, clearly tailored to the body of the person wearing it, emphasising the width of his shoulders and his narrow waist, and paired with an elegant golden-coloured shirt. 

And then there’s him, his face, and no matter how much you like his clothes, that is what makes your heartbeat accelerate suddenly.

“I hope you won’t consider me too forward, but I noticed you from my table, and… I saw your friend left to dance. May I sit?”

“Of course.” you answer happily, and a moment later the man has occupied the stool next to yours. Like you had noticed, his hair is dark, and longer than most men’s, a soft-looking, lucid mantle falling to his waist; he has a classically beautiful face, the sort you usually find on marble statues or antique paintings, bright dark eyes, and a friendly, open smile.

He is handsome. No, you correct yourself as you move your legs away to make space for him, too slowly to avoid his knee brushing against yours, he’s absolutely gorgeous, without a doubt one of the most attractive men you have ever met -and that’s saying something, with all the male models you have seen at the various fashion shows you have attended- and the way he’s looking at you is making you feel as if Durin had turned the heating to the maximum.

“My name is Ereinion.” he introduces himself offering you a hand you shake; he is wearing several rings, even though not, you notice with relief, the one that suggests he may have a spouse waiting for him at home.

“I am (name), good to meet you.”

“... you said (name)?”

“Yes, why?” you ask, surprised; is there perhaps something wrong with your name?

“... nothing. The pleasure is all mine, (name); may I say I really like your suit? It’s very smart, I like the embroidery on the lapels.”

“Thank you.” you say, sincerely flattered “So, uhm, is this your first visit to the Moria?”

You spend a few minutes talking, the conversation flowing free and relaxed like it rarely happens to you with a person you have just met. You tell Ereinion you are still in school, but when he ask what you are studying you propose to change the topic; you’re usually more than happy to talk about your studies, and the Arda, and all that concerns fashion, but at the moment the less you think about your future, and how little chance you have to actually earn your living as a fashion designer, the better. 

“No problem.” he answers easily “Can I buy you a drink?”

You gently refuse, since two drinks per night is usually your limit and you don’t want to lower your guard in the company of a man you still don’t know you can trust. You and Ereinion end up talking for more than an hour, discussing everything from movies and literature, to travels and even politics. Your new acquaintance is an endless source of interesting facts and ideas; he has told you he’s self-employed -which, you gather, means he’s a businessman- and he travels much for work.

He’s interested in you, you can see it in his eyes, the feeling blatant and open even though he’s acting like a perfect gentleman, and even though this has happened to you before you feel both flattered and a little intimidated. Ereinion can’t be much older than you, but his suit, the heavy watch at his wrist, and something in the self-confidence he exudes suggests he is a man of wealth, which is as different from your situation as it can be, since you are attending the Arda on a scholarship and still have to rely on your parents’ help to pay rent. You seem to have hit it off, but you doubt you and this man have much in common…

“... and then my cousin, Galadriel, took offence, and threatened to carve that man’s face with a steak knife; had I not intervened, physically lifting her to carry her outside, she probably would have.”

“Oh my God!” you say, unable to stop laughing as Ereinion tells you about the latest disastrous family reunion he attended “I can’t believe she really threatened him!”

“She did. I am very fond of Galadriel, but sometimes I wish she had more self-control.” he admits with a soft smile; he remains silent for a moment, as if debating his next move, and then his hand covers the one you have placed on the bar’s counter, the touch feather-light but enough to make you perceive the warmth of his body “Would you like to dance?”

You swallow. “I’d love to.”

Durin looks approvingly at you as you let Ereinion’s hand at the small of your back guide you to the dancefloor; a moment later you have joined the couples gently swaying to the music, his hands resting on your hips, your arms circling his neck. He is the one leading, which is good, because by now you have completely stopped listening to the music, too focused on the firm, warm body embracing yours.

“What’s wrong?” Ereinion asks after a few minutes, his murmur caressing the shell of your ear. 

“Nothing!”

“I can feel you are tense; is something bothering you?”

“I’m fine, really.” you try to reassure him as you meet his gaze, but you don’t seem to succeed, because a moment later, with a jolt of panic, you feel him pulling back.

“(name), if I have… made you uncomfortable somehow, I am truly sorry.”

“You haven’t; really, err, it’s not your fault. You can’t help being so terribly handsome, after all.”

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but you have, and blushing and covering your mouth with your hand doesn’t help. Ereinion grins, openly flattered.

“You really think so?” Despite your embarrassment, you find yourself smiling. “Oh, don’t be coy; I wanted to ask you if you ever considered a career as a model.”

“I… haven’t, actually; but thank you very much. I think you are extremely beautiful as well.”

“Well, thank you…”

You share a smile, the tension between the two of you dissipating. The next two hours pass quickly; you dance, you talk, you drink -a non-alcoholic for you- and in the end Ereinion accompanies you on the club’s tiny veranda for a breath of fresh air. You have met Mirdania’s eyes a couple times, as she danced with Malendol or sat with him and his friends, and you’ve seen approval in her eyes; clearly neither of you is disappointed her friend has found someone else to spend the evening with. 

“I like this place.” Ereinion comments as he rests his back against the wall by your side, his eyes focused on you rather than on the sky full of stars above you; he has already offered you his jacket to wear, in case you felt cold, and you declined, secretly flattered by the offer “I’ll have to thank the people who recommended it to me.”

“You have a favourite place here in the city?” “A few. I, err, haven’t been to a club, or any other place really, for a long time. I’ve been very busy with my work and… people say that I don’t know how to relax.”

It’s a feeling you know well. “And they are right?”

“They are. But I’m feeling very relaxed right now, which is pleasant.”

Ereinion smiles; and you thought he couldn’t look more gorgeous. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, and you hesitate only for a moment before answering in the only way you can: truthfully.

“I’m thinking that even though this is one of my favourite clubs and I had been in the company of my friend until a minute before I was feeling pretty down, so I really have to thank you for coming to talk to me; I feel much better now.”

“Glad I could help.” 

A moment of silence as Ereinion turns to look at you; his hand cups your cheek, and you forget how to breathe. “Do you want to know what I am thinking?” he asks softly, and you not imperceptibly, heart pounding in your chest “I’m thinking that you must be the most beautiful woman I have met in a long time, and I’m dying to kiss you.”

It’s as if you had been holding your breath ever since your gazes first met; and now, finally, you can exhale. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You are surer of this than you are of your name, and you don’t care how desperate it makes you look to say it. “I am absolutely sure; please, I want it too, I want it so much…”

A moment later Ereinion has claimed your mouth in a searing kiss; you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, and whatever he feels seems to please him, because you hear him moan in your mouth. His body is large, warm, powerful, and you lose yourself in the intensity of his embrace; your hands move up and down his chest, and Ereinion holds you by the hips as his tongue takes possession of your mouth. 

The next ten minutes pass as if in a dream. Ereinion is now kissing your neck, the sweet caress of his mouth leaving goosebumps behind it, and you moan out loud, well aware that whoever among the club’s clients -or worse even, Durin- felt the need for a smoke or a breath of fresh air could see you, and physically unable to care.

“Oh, God…”

“Good?”

As if he could doubt it! “More than good. Please, please don’t stop…”

He has no intention to, and he proves it by holding you tight as he moulds the shape of your body with his hands. You can feel him smiling against your mouth as he kisses you again, and for some reason the sensation fills your heart with joy… and then you jump, when Ereinion lifts your leg around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. 

“Fuck.” you murmur. You can feel how hard he is, and you barely know him, way too little for something like this to be the smart, or even just the safe, thing to do, but caring, reminding yourself of the rules you have set for yourself when you started dating as a teenager, is suddenly the hardest thing you ever had to do; you’ve never felt so aroused in your life, you want this man desperately, you need to feel his body against yours and in yours as soon as possible, you need to feel his hands on your skin and his mouth kissing every part of you…

Ereinion groans as he feels you rubbing yourself against him, desperately searching for some relief, a raw, blatantly erotic sound that makes you wish you were truly alone, naked, on a bed or whatever other surface sturdy enough to support your combined weight “God, you feel amazing…”

Your heart is pounding; your mind is spinning; your body is begging for contact, and if you don’t do something about it now you’ll end up on your knees in front of him - which will be undoubtedly amazing, even though not completely satisfying. So you meet his eyes and

“Can we go somewhere else?” you ask, and Ereinion grins. “Do you want to come to my place? My car is outside.” 

“Yes, it’s fine; I just need to tell my friend, and take my coat.”

He nods, clearly happy, and you return inside together, his arm resting on your shoulders. 

*****

Ereinion’s car is exactly like you had imagined, and exactly like him; large, elegant, powerful, and you feel yourself shivering with pleasure as you lower yourself on the leather seat, after he had chivalrously opened the door for you.

He drives unhurriedly among the city streets, focused on the road ahead but looking away to meet your eyes once in a while; you share a smile, no need for words between you.

You’re not at all surprised that, when the car finally stops, you have reached one of the most upscale neighbourhoods of the city, and the building in front of you must cost more per square meter than your yearly tuition at the Arda.

Ereinion once again opens the door for you, and offers you his hand to get out; you smile, secretly flattered. “Can I ask you a very straightforward question?”

“Of course.”

“You are rich, aren’t you?”

He laughs, sincerely amused. “I’m… comfortable.” he admits “I am fortunate enough to have a job that pays well, even though I do work hard and have paid my dues.”

You assure him that he has no need to justify himself, even though you must admit you do feel a little intimidated; most of your friends, and former partners, are or were students like you or people who work to support themselves, and while Ereinion looks only a few years older than you and doesn’t seem the sort of man who boasts about wealth, you have already perceived there is a huge gap between the two of you. Would he think less of you if you told him you still need your parents’ help to pay rent, don’t own a car, and still buy most of your clothes at the mall?

The sense of inferiority feels like a heavy and unpleasant weight on your stomach: still, he did not ask for your bank statement before bringing you home, and as you take his hand to be led inside, any fear and anxiety you may have felt disappears, leaving behind only joy and desire. Mirdania, who you have left in Malendol’s excellent care, asked in a whisper if you were sure of what you were doing, and you are, you are like you have rarely been of anything before.

You want him; and you only need to look at the handsome man now opening the house door -after you, miss- to know he wants you too. 

“Come, make yourself comfortable.” Ereinion invites you kindly as he guides you through the door, which is as elegant and refined inside as it looks outside, all marble and fine furniture “Something to drink?”

You tell him you’d be happy to have a glass of water, since anxiety has dried your mouth, and he leads you to the kitchen, where you find out that, as was to be expected, Ereinion does not live alone.

“This is Aiglos; Aiglos, meet (name).” he introduces you, fondness evident in his voice, as the beautiful German shepard that stood from his bed near the fridge approaches and starts sniffing you; the inspection must yield satisfactory results, because a moment later the dog is licking your hands “I’m sorry, I should have asked you if you have problems with dogs.”

You assure him that you don’t, even though you have never had a pet in your life, and briefly play with the animal, a beautiful adult specimen with black and brown fur and bright, intelligent eyes, while Ereinion takes care of your last drink of the day.

“So it’s only you and Aiglos?” you ask then, after you have quenched your thirst and his dog has gone looking for his toys in the living room “Living here, I mean.”

“Is this your way of asking whether I am married?”

You blush, unable to hide it behind your water glass. “No, I… I’m sorry, I was just thinking that this house seems too large for a single person…”

“It’s fine.” he reassures you with a smile “And it probably is, I have come to realise since I moved here. And I am free as air, I swear.”

You believe him; you have no reason to, all things considered, but you just do. “I am single as well, in case you want to know.”

“I do… even though I don’t doubt you have several admirers vying for your attention.”

You don’t, actually, even though the main reason you have been single for more than a year, after your latest partner cheated on you, is that you have been so focused on your studies, and the upcoming internship, to have much time to dedicate to relationships. 

It bothered you, at times; but right now, you couldn’t be more relieved. 

You place your empty glass in the sink, and smile as Ereinion takes you in his arms once more. “God, you really are gorgeous.” he murmurs; he’s holding you close, not hurting you but tight enough you would probably be unable to wiggle out if you wanted to.

Good thing, then, that I don’t.

“I haven’t done anything like this in at least five years, you know?” Ereinion murmurs; then, as if realising his words could be misunderstood: “Taken someone home, I mean.”

“If you’re… uncomfortable in any way, we don’t have to…”

“No, absolutely; it’s just that… the last time that person stole my wallet and my dog while I was asleep, so it’s not exactly a good memory.”

“Oh, God, that is horrible…”

“Well, I was able to find Aiglos at least, a few days later.”

“That’s good. And in any case…” you murmur as you slip your arms under his jacket, feeling the firmness of his torso against your body “... I can promise I want nothing from you, if not what you are willing to give. I… I had never felt like this before; I need you, Ereinion, I just need you to take me…”

He sighs, as if overwhelmed by what he feels. “Then I will.” he murmurs, before cupping your face in his hands once again “You have my word.”

You keep kissing as he guides you to his bedroom, where a huge bed, its dark-coloured sheets soft to the touch, is waiting for you. You start taking each other’s clothes off, and once both of your jackets have been abandoned on a chair, you hear Ereinion groan as he unbuttons your waistcoat. “I just wish I could tear this off you…”

You pout. “I think you liked my suit.”

“I love your suit; it’s very elegant and you look amazing in it. I just wish it was easier to take it off…”

In the end you manage, and within a few minutes your clothes are scattered around the room, and you’re both in your underwear. Ereinion guides you to the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs as you kiss senselessly; his hand moves up and down your thigh, but a moment later you have unclasped your bra, and he is pulling you close by the hips to kiss your chest, whispering words into your skin that make you thank God the room is bathed by the pale moonlight, because you don’t want him to see you are blushing. 

You murmur his name as you arch your back, waves of pleasure running through you as he kisses and licks and sucks as if your breast were the last glass of water in a deserted world, hungry and reverent, almost worshipful, and your fingers play with his dark locks as you murmur how handsome he is, how good he’s making you feel, and how you can’t wait to feel him inside you. 

When he stops, you can see he’s grinning. “Up.” he orders, and you lift your legs and then your hips to let him take your panties off.

You are naked, naked on the bed of a man you have known for four hours, and you’ve never felt so happy in your life. Ereinion kisses your legs as he opens them, and then he’s standing, taking off his black pants to expose his strong, sensual body, which is even more handsome than you thought, so perfect you struggle to breathe as you admire him.

“You’re beautiful.” you murmur, and Ereinion smiles at you as he reaches you on the bed, looming over you. 

“I’m going to make you feel good.” he murmurs before kissing you once more “Just tell me if I hurt you or you want to stop.”

You appreciate the thought, but you know already nothing he’ll decide to do will make you want to stop. You sigh as you feel his body pressing against yours; your heart is pounding, desire tensing your muscles as every fiber of your being screams begging to be fucked, but at the same time you’re relaxed, at ease and safe as if you were in your own home, with a person you had known all your life, and with whom you shared something deep and real and destined to last.

It might be a sign; and it might be not. You don’t care about the future, just like you don’t care about the past, and the differences between your lifestyles. All that counts is the present, and what you’re living together, and oh God he’s started pushing and it feels so good he’s so big…!

“You’re so wet for me.” Ereinion groans; he smiles at you, eyes full of desire, and a moment later he is fully inside you.

Your lovemaking is slow, soft and intense, Ereinion hiding his face in the grove of your neck as he relentlessly pushes himself in, and in your delirium part of you fears he’s going to split you open, but you don’t care, because it feels so good, he’s so warm and strong and hard, and you’re moaning and crying and digging your nails in the flesh of his back -painful, theoretically, but Ereinion seems to appreciate- and begging him not to stop, because you love this and you love him too… 

World dissolves in ecstasy; you stop thinking, hold on to him, and let your body join his in the dance. 

*****

You really thought you had found something beautiful.

It’s the sound of water falling that wakes you the next morning, coming not from outside -the sky is clear, with no sign of rain- but from the room adjacent to the one you are in, a large, pristine bedroom with elegant modern furniture and a beautiful view of the city out of the windows. You have only a few minutes to observe it, since you were too busy for it last night, and to enjoy the quiet happiness bubbling in your heart, before the water in the en-suite bathroom is turned off, and a minute later Ereinion, wearing only a pair of dress pants, his hair still wet after the shower, enters, immediately walking to you.

“Good morning.” he greets you softly as he bends on the bed to kiss you; he is happy, and does nothing to hide it “Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s no problem.” you answer happily; you are now sitting on the bed, not bothering to use the soft blankets to cover yourself as you savour the honey on his lips, and the warmth of his body still enveloping your skin. It has been the most amazing night of your life, and while you have no intention of saying it out loud, you know it’s the same for him “Can’t you stay a little longer? Please?”

“I really wish I could; but I have to meet someone soon.”

“A woman?”

“Yes; but it’s not like you think. It’s for work.” he hurries to explain; he cups your face in his hands, clearly anxious to convince you “I told you I wasn’t seeing anyone, and I’d never lie about something like this.”

“I believe you.” you assure him; you have no right to be jealous of him -nor he of you, clearly- but you can’t deny, at least in your heart, that knowing he is single is an enormous source of relief. Only a few hours, albeit very intense, after your first meeting you already feel Ereinion is a drug you could easily become addicted to, but at the moment you are too happy, and sated, to worry about it “I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound possessive.”

Ereinion assures you he is pleased to know you still desire his company, and you’re free to remain in bed as long as you want - and as long as you don’t take Aiglos with you when you leave.

“No, it’s fine; I have things to do as well.”

And you really do; according to your phone you have little more than two hours to go home, shower, change, and then go to the Arda in time to meet your mentor for the internship. Had things -specifically, your evening- gone differently, you would be trembling with anxiety; instead, you feel perfectly calm, excited but in control of yourself, ready to make a good impression on the famous designer you’ll be working under for six months. And after that, and after your diploma… well, you’ll have time to worry about the future in time, you decide; doing it in advance is pointless.

You take a quick shower -the bathroom is, just as the rest of the house, enormous, but it’s the sort of luxury that evokes cosiness, rather than unease- and by the time you are wearing your suit once again and have joined him in the living room, Ereinion has put an elegant white shirt on, filled Aiglos’ bowl with food, and prepared two cups of coffee, one of which he offers you with a smile.

“Something tells me you’re a black coffee sort of woman.” “I actually am!” you confess, impressed “How do you know?”

“Just a talent I was born with.”

Ereinion grins; he places his cup on the counter to kiss you once more, hard, loving, intense enough to make your head spin as you enthusiastically kiss him back. You’ve had sex three times already, but you’re not sated yet; part of you has already begun thinking you might never be, a thought that is both terrifying and exhilarating. 

“Tell me I can see you for dinner.”

“I can see you for dinner.”

He moans, even though not in the particular way you have already come to appreciate. “(name), please…”

“Sorry, sorry.” you murmur, raising your hand to touch his soft hair; you have spent the whole night making love but God, that simple contact is enough to make you tremble “I’d really love to. Believe me, if what I need to do today weren’t extremely important, I’d remain here waiting for you to come back.”

Another of those beautiful smiles, and then Aiglos comes in to reclaim both of his food and a bit of cuddles from you, both of which are readily offered to him. 

“He likes you.” Ereinion points out as he observes you playing with his dog; then, softly: “And I do too.”

“I like you too.” you readily admit, standing to look at him; again, you share a smile.

You leave the house together twenty minutes later. “The metro is that way, only five minutes away.” Ereinion informs you, pointing the direction with his finger “I can drive you home if you want, I need to take the car in any case, but I guess you wouldn’t accept, would you?” “I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t.” you say; he doesn’t seem the sort of man who stalks a woman after she broke up with him, but one can never be too sure. 

“It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You assure him he will, and that you really can’t wait for your date; you share a last, long kiss, and then Ereinion is looking at you as you move a few steps away, turn, and wave your hand good-bye before setting out.

*****

And now…

You walk through the Arda’s main door -there are no classes today, since it’s Saturday, but a few students come to take advantage of the well-equipped atelier to work on their creations, which means the building is technically open in the week-end as well- ten minutes before the appointed time for your meeting with your mentor at a quick but unhurried pace, wearing your best suit, which you have paired with a blouse of your creation. 

You should feel tired, since sleep was the last thing on your mind last night, but you aren’t: you feel lucid, excited but in control, ready to make a good impression without letting the fear for the future get you down. 

And tonight you are seeing Ereinion again. Thinking back to last night, part of you still can’t believe what happened was real and not the plot of a cheesy rom-com; but it was real, it happened, to you, and while you have never believed in love at first sight, you are determined not to let this chance go to waste. He is so handsome, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in what you had to say, and he took care of your pleasure as well as his, which is more than you can say for some of your past partners. There is so much you still don’t know about each other, and the thought of dating a wealthy, already self-sufficient person while you’re still a student relying on her family’s help should probably make you hesitate, but it does not. You don’t plan on becoming Ereinion’s kept woman, nor to let your relationship, should the two of you actually begin one, divert you from your studies, and you actually don’t care for his economic status either way. 

It’s less than twelve hours to your first date; you can’t wait, and you’ll need to think about what to wear… even though, you remind yourself as you quickly cross the main corridor, now you have to put aside your new fling, and focus on what could be your big chance to start building a career as a fashion designer.   

You meet Mirdania and Elrond in the tiny break-room on the first floor. Your friend, looking very smart as usual in a blouse and frilled skirt she bought expressly to improve it according to her personal style, smiles knowingly at you as he sees you approach. “Well, look who seems in a markedly better mood than last night.”

“I had a wonderful evening.” you admit “And, I’m meeting him for dinner.”

“Good for you. I do admit your new friend looks very handsome.” 

“I agree. What about you? Did you have fun?”

Your friend, blushing a bit, admits that Malendol did ask her out last night, which she accepted. You are discussing the possibility of organising a double date -at the Moria, obviously- when one of your lecturers enters the room. 

“Your mentors have arrived, and are ready to meet you.” they say, before explaining which room each of the designers is waiting in “You have one hour to make their acquaintance and discuss your internship, then you are all to come to the administration office to sign a few forms. Good luck to you all.”

You and Mirdania share an excited smile, and whisper good luck to each other before following Elrond out of the break-room. 

The class where Gil-Galad is waiting for you is at the end of the corridor; you reach it, take a deep breath as you square your shoulder, knock on the door, and open it.

“Good morning, sir. I am your new intern, (full name), and I am very happy for…”

“(name).” a soft voice interrupts you, and you blink, stopping dead as the door closes behind you. Then you see the person waiting for you, their hands and back resting on the edge of the professor’s podium, and you stop breathing.

The anguish on Ereinion’s expression is so intense it borders on panic; he starts walking towards you, slowly, like a hunter trying not to spook a doe… before he has time to shoot her.

“(name), I’m so sorry.” he says, his tone pleading “Let me explain… I swear I didn’t know…” 

May I say I really like your suit? It’s very smart, I like the embroidery on the lapels. This is what Ereinion said upon meeting you, an apparently sincere compliment that immediately charmed you. Not many men would have noticed a detail like that, let alone thought of complimenting it, but a person who knows much about fashion, who works in the field and loves it as much as you do, would have.

You can’t stop staring at him -him. HIM!- as the enormity of the truth comes crashing down on you, burying you alive. It’s not possible, you desperately tell yourself, suddenly feeling dizzy, there must be an explanation, it can’t be true…

But it is, the reality too clear and evident to be denied, and it is now standing in front of you, close enough you could touch him.

Ereinion is Gil-Galad. Gil-Galad is Ereinion. The famous fashion designer you couldn’t wait to work for and learn from, and the charming man who seduced you and gave you the best night of your life. They are one and the same, the two sides of the same coin, and they both made a fool of you. 

“I am sorry, truly.” he murmurs, kind and anguished as he takes your hands in his, but you have quickly stepped back, putting as much space between you as you can.

“No… no…” you stammer, barely aware of the words you are uttering; your head is spinning, and your legs a moment away from giving way, as you realise the enormity of the mess you have gotten yourself in “I can’t… it’s not possible…”

“(name), please… we can find a way to make things work, if you just let me explain…”

You don’t; you have no interest in whatever this man, whoever he is, may have to say, and you don’t want to remain in his presence a moment more, not to mention your eyes have already filled with tears and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how shattered you feel. So you swat his hand away, like you would do with an insect, and

“You… you bastard!” you scream in his face “You ruined everything!”

before turning and running out of the room, deaf to his pleads to stop. 

*****

You really thought you had made it. You really thought you had nothing to worry about. You really thought you had found something beautiful. And now… all of it has disappeared like snow at the coming of spring, leaving behind nothing but shame and rejection.

There is no alcohol in the apartment, since you usually prefer to drink socially rather than when alone, and this is at the same time a very good thing and the worst possible outcome. You spend two hours lying on your bed, crying inconsolably as you hide your face in your pillow; your phone hasn’t stopped ringing ever since you ran out of the Arda, but you didn’t even bother taking it out of your bag. You can’t be fully sure all those calls and texts are his, and not of Mirdania, who might have heard what you did and be consequently worried about you, or someone else, but you don’t care; you feel so humiliated, so completely annihilated, you don’t even bear the thought of talking to your friend or your family.

You still can’t believe it. You were so excited, and nervous, of meeting Gil-Galad, a famous fashion designer whose work you had long admired, and then you end up in bed with him, making love with an intensity you had never experienced before, without even realising.

Is Ereinion his real name, and the one all fashion fans in the country know a pseudonym? Or is it the opposite? Did he realise the woman in front of him was his future intern when you exchanged names at the club, and decided to have sex with you simply because he found you desirable, and to hell with the work relationship you were due to begin only a few hours later, or he seduced you with the precise intent of making you his lover as well as his intern? Did he plan on spending his days teaching you the finer points of the art of fashion, and his nights with you in his bed?

Well, if that’s the truth, you’ll have to disappoint him. A relationship, whether romantic or sexual, between a mentor and a mentee would be absolutely inappropriate, it might get you in trouble should the Arda learn about it, and the power imbalance alone is something you are determined to avoid, because how could you care, and trust, and deal as equals with a man who could make it impossible for you to be hired in any fashion house in the country after a simple fight?

You’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours, and he clearly does not deserve your affection given how he deceived you, but the thought of losing Ereinion, that you’ll never see him again and never get to feel the emotions he filled your heart with in the few, precious hours you have spent together, breaks your heart. And that’s not all: you’ll also have to give up on your internship, because since the simple thought of seeing Ereinion again feels unbearable, how can you hope to work closely with him for six months? Despite his undeniable talent as a designer you are not even sure you want to work for him; what if he actually asks for sexual favours in exchange for his teachings…?

A small part of you is aware you are being too harsh in judging him, and that his heartbroken expression when you met at the Arda clearly suggests Ereinion was as unaware of your future working relationship as you were when you met, but you are too heartbroken to reason. The internship was all you aspired to and worked for for almost a year, you had invested so much on it, hoping it could help you start building a career as a fashion designer, like you had dreamt of doing since you were little, and now all of it was in vain. And last night… you really don’t believe in love at first sight, but you had never felt so intensely attracted to someone; you sincerely enjoyed the time you spent talking and dancing, and your lovemaking was sweet, intense, even loving; Ereinion had been everything you had ever looked for in a partner and then more: handsome, passionate, generous, able to share his pleasure with you and to take care of yours.

You really thought you could build something together; at the very least you wanted to, desperately, and the loss of that potential future makes you feel more lonely than ever. 

Only a few hours ago you felt amazing, about to begin a prestigious work experience and pursue a relationship with a partner who had stolen your heart; and now you have neither, you have lost everything, and while there will -might- be other job opportunities, and other men, you can’t help but think this was your chance, he was, as a lover or as a mentor if not both things together, and you have wasted it all away…

Deep in your sadness as you are, it actually takes you a while to realise the doorbell is ringing, more and more insistently. You ignore it, since you have never felt so unsociable and really don’t want to see anyone, but after a while the shrill sound hurting your eardrums is replaced by a voice, one you have heard for the first time only twelve hours ago but that you can’t help but recognise…

“(name), it’s me!” Ereinion calls for you from outside the door “Please, it’s not like you think! Let me explain!”

He came to your apartment! You never told him where you live, which means he must have found it on your curriculum, which the Arda has provided him with. Anger mounts inside you; how dares he? Had you wanted to talk to him you would have answered his calls, or called him yourself, since you exchanged numbers; what gives him the right of coming to bother you at home?

You rise from your bed and walk to the door. “Go away!” you cry, forcing yourself to make those words sound like an order rather than a plea.

“Not unless you let me talk to you.” he promptly answers from outside.

“Listen, Ereinion or whatever your name is…”

“Ereinion is my name. Gil-Galad is my second name, that I use for…”

“... you have until the count of five to leave, otherwise I’ll call the police to say you are threatening me. One!”

“You won’t do it. You’re not that cruel.” He is not wrong, and the fact he’s still able to see right through you pains and angers you both; you ball your fists, wishing he could see how furious you are.

“Are you really sure?” you ask in your most cruel tone “If you get arrested the papers might come to know about it; is this the sort of publicity you want for your brand? Two!”

“(name)...”

“Stop saying my name, it won’t help you. Three!”

“(name), I swear I didn’t know!”

You stop counting, hesitating despite yourself. “It changes nothing.” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the door “What is done is done. I can’t work for you after what we shared last night, and I don’t feel comfortable dating you either, since you are everything I wish to be and will never get to become. I am very sorry, but we should both forget we ever met.”

You hear him grunt. “Don’t I get a saying in this? It concerns me as well.” he points out unhappily “It’s also my relationship, and my job.”

“You don’t. I’m very sorry, but this is the only thing I feel comfortable with doing. Ereinion, please, if you care for me just go.”

Silence.

“I know you’re still there. Please…”

“I like the way you say my name.” you hear him murmur; his voice is hoarse, deep, and damn, you wish it didn’t make you shiver “I like it very much, you know? I wanted to make you scream nothing more all night long, and I almost did…”

You strife a sob as the unbidden memories of your night together fill your mind; your self-control has reached its limit, and you don’t know how much longer you can resist before opening the door and throwing yourself into his arms to beg him to make it all go away. 

“Please. Please just go…”

“I will; you have my word. But let me speak to you face to face, please. I swear the next time you say leave, I’ll walk out of this door and you’ll never see me again.”

The thought is terrifying; a moment later you have opened the door, and moved silently aside to let Ereinion, who looks as tormented as you feel, walk inside.

The door closes, and the two of you can do nothing but stare at each other. You must look horrible -half dressed, puffy eyes, make-up smudged- but there is nothing but tenderness in Ereinion’s eyes as he looks at you; tenderness and heartbreak.

“I swear I did not know.” he starts after a minute “I know the matter is more complicated than that, but I want you to know. When I met you last night, I had no idea you were my trainee. Remember you never told me you attend the Arda, or even just that you study fashion; there are so many universities and schools in this city, how was I supposed to know?”

Once again, he’s not wrong. “But had the school not given you my curriculum? (name) is a pretty uncommon name, didn’t you remember reading it? There’s even my picture on it!”

Openly embarrassed, Ereinion admits he didn’t - not properly. “I received an email from the school yesterday morning, with the data of the student I was going to mentor. I was actually excited about it, but I was busy with something else at the time and, err, I just read the text real quick, without opening the attachment. Your name did sound familiar, but I didn’t make the connection. I only realised what was happening fifteen minutes before you arrived, when I finally opened that blasted -I’m sorry- email.”

“I see.” you murmur, and while you are relieved he did not try to deceive you, as he said, the problem at your hands is much bigger than a simple lack of goodwill. 

“The suit I wore yesterday… I made it myself, you know?” you murmur as you hug yourself; it’s pointless to mention it, but you want him to know “It’s the piece that won me the internship.”

Ereinion smiles; you have no way of knowing, since you’ve only met yesterday, but his closest associates would marvel at how often he’s doing it while he’s with you. “I should have known; it is lovely. And I went to the school’s atelier, I saw your creations; you really are talented, (name). I would be proud to work with you… and I would have thought the same had I not met you last night at the club.”

It is a beautiful thing to say, beautiful enough to fill your eyes with tears. “Thank you; I would have been happy to work with you too.”

“Then let’s do it. I have a new collection coming out next year, I want your input, there are so many things I want to discuss with you, people I want to introduce…”

“But we can’t. Ereinion, I…” you sigh, because nothing is harder than making a case while at the same time desiring the opposite “It’s always been important for me to keep my private and work life separate, which is why I would never date one of my lecturers, and it’s the same, if not more, for a mentorship.”

“Because you think I could fire you if you refuse to sleep with me?” “I don’t think you would; but it wouldn’t be fair for you either. What if I make a mistake you would dismiss someone else over, or I am up for some promotion someone else deserves more? I would never ask for any special treatment, but I don’t want you to have to choose between making me happy and treating me fairly. Becoming a fashion designer has been my dream since I was ten, but I don’t want people to say I have built my success because I slept with someone.”

You both reflect on the matter for a minute; Ereinion folds his arms to his chest, as if he had to physically stop himself from reaching out and embracing you. “And I guess you would not want me as a partner, since you can’t have me as a mentor.”

“I wish it was that easy. I do want you; I want you desperately. But knowing how successful you are, and the fact I haven’t even started my career, and this whole mess with the internship… I don’t think it would work; I need to be in a relationship where there is no power imbalance, and I’m afraid this is not our case.

“So you’re throwing away everything we have? Everything we could have?”

“It’s not like I want to!” you cry out, frustrated; why can he not see how much you’re hurting? “What I feel for you, what I have shared with you… I had never felt it before; but I am not going to sacrifice my principles, and my self-respect, for a lover. Not even you, Ereinion; and if you can’t understand it, and accept it, you’re not the sort of man I want to be around.”

Silence falls; your heart has the time to pound five times before the tall, handsome man in front of you sighs, takes a step forward, and cautiously reaches out with his hand. “May I touch you?” “I am not radioactive.”

He grins, and a moment later he’s holding you in his arms. “There might be a way for you not to have to give up on your internship.” he murmurs “You could do it with someone else.”

“... what?”

“I could swap interns with another of the designers. Celebrimbor is set on working with his mentee, who I have realised is your friend Mirdania, but Cirdan is an old friend, and when I spoke to him he said he doesn’t mind taking you and letting me take his new intern, Elrond. You would love working with him, I’m sure; Cirdan is a gentleman, and knows more about the business than any person I know. You would have much to learn from him.”

You consider the matter for a minute, safely held in his embrace. “You told him why you can’t work with me?” “I told him we are family friends, and therefore it wouldn’t have been proper for us to work together. It’s not exactly the truth, but I think it was a more appropriate explanation; and he promised he’ll keep the truth for himself.”

Working for a successful designer like Cirdan is an opportunity anyone in your situation would give an arm and a leg to get; and you must admit it, the prospect is exciting. 

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I don’t want you to lose this internship, (name); you deserve it, and it would be a great opportunity for your future.” Ereinion murmurs; he kisses your hair, sweet and chaste “I don’t want you to have to give up on your dreams… but, if I may be selfish just for a minute, I also wish you wouldn’t give up on us simply because we’re working in the same field.”

“I don’t work; I’m still a student.” you mumble; you rest your cheek against his shoulder, and suddenly you feel as if you hadn’t rested in a year.

“You know what I mean. (name), do you really think I care about that? Because I don’t, and the last thing I want is you to feel you have something to prove, or some standard to reach, in order to be somehow… worthy of me. And you shouldn’t either.”

He’s right, and you know it; you never thought Erenion could lose interest in you, or not consider you a partner on equal terms, simply because he’s more successful than you - which is an unfair comparison to begin with, since your career hasn’t even started yet. The problem is you, and your insecurities, which maybe you’ll never get rid of completely, but as he said, you shouldn’t allow them to stop you from pursuing a relationship with a person you sincerely care about. 

You can become a successful fashion designer relying on your own strength; and you can keep your private and professional life separate, like you’ve always done.

You feel him smile as you circle his shoulders with your arms, and now you’re holding each other, the intimacy different from what you shared last night, but equally precious. “I should probably go back to the school.” you murmur “To talk to mister Cirdan, and the administration office.”

“Sounds fair; as long as you remember you have a date tonight.”

You assure him you do; you share a smile. “Can I drive you there?”

“I’d like that. Come, I need a minute to prepare.”

You share a new kiss, and Ereinion smiles as you take his hand to guide him inside.

[sorchathered]

Heartbreaks & Happy Birthdays

Happy sleepover Saturday y’all, I thought I’d kick it off with a miracle, yes you are seeing this right I wrote a fic for Bradley! @roosterforme I know you are somewhere victory dancing 😂. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

Warnings- drinking, allusions to smut, language, angst.

Summary- you throw Bradley a birthday party and it ends in disaster, can you move past it or is it time to let him go?

It had started out as such a good weekend, for the life of him he couldn’t figure out when it went wrong.

Bradley had turned 40 on Thursday and you’d agreed to spend the weekend with him, getting off of work early Thursday to cook his favorite dinner (a recipe of Carole’s you’d found in storage) and treating him to a fancy new lingerie set that had been an absolute hit, you even let him take some pictures and videos for his next deployment which he couldn’t wait to watch over and over again on nights when he couldn’t hold you close. You were his sweet quiet girl and although the two of you couldn’t be more different it just made sense when you were together, he brought out a side of you that no one else could, he was a live wire, his bright smile and infectious energy captivated everyone who interacted with him but when he was with you? It was like puzzle pieces snapping in to place, a perfect mix of yin and yang that just fit seamlessly.

You and a few members of his squad had been planning him a surprise party for weeks, you’d mostly let Phoenix handle all the invites and had thrown yourself into decorating and finding a caterer, even Jake had helped by asking one of his buddies to dj for the night, the country club the boys played golf at had graciously let you rent the conference room and it was sure to be an evening to remember.

Friday night came and you had convinced him that he was just going out for dinner at the restaurant in the clubhouse with a few of his friends, dressed in a floral button down with some black slacks he looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine, you were having trouble keeping your thoughts together as he pulled into the lot in his shiny blue bronco, swollen biceps stretching the soft material from all the pushups he’d been doing lately. You hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to you until he stroked your cheek, eyebrow cocked and a knowing smile on his face, of course he could see right through you, he knew you’d been checking him out. “Oh Bradley I’m so sorry, I don’t know where my head was, what did you say?” He chuckled as he unbuckled you and pulled you across the bench seat by your waist, rucking up the sides of your sundress as you went, using his massive left hand to curl around your jaw and the back of your neck as he kissed you breathless, running the other hand up your back and shoulder as he ran his tongue along your lips and you opened for him with a breathy moan, tongues tangled together and reducing you to a puddle. He pulled away much sooner than you would have liked, causing a whine to tear from your throat as you chased his lips. “I know it, I’m gonna take my time with you later sweetness but you did all this planning for dinner so let’s go eat and then I can have my dessert.”

When you made a sharp turn towards the conference room he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly realized what you were up to as the doors were thrown open to everyone yelling surprise at him. He’d never had a surprise party, hell he hadn’t had a birthday party since he was a kid, he couldn’t believe that everyone had pulled this together under his nose, the boys quickly drug him away for a drink and you and Phoenix just laughed at how excited he looked. It looked like just about everyone Bradley worked with was here, including quite a few people you’d never seen before, but it was expected really; your boyfriend never seemed to meet a stranger and that much was evident by the wall to wall crowd dancing the night away. Somehow he’d pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, twirling you around the floor and kissing you breathless amongst the sweaty bodies and flashing lights, it should have been overwhelming but he always seemed to make you feel comfortable in the most vulnerable situations.

You finally excused yourself and headed for the rest room, you were sure you looked a mess and as you checked yourself over in the mirror you were definitely right. Kiss swollen lips and smudged lipstick, hair all in disarray and you giggled to yourself at the thought of what was to come later that night. As you stepped into the stall you heard a group coming in behind you, no doubt doing the same as you but when you heard them talking you realized they were gossiping about you. “I really don’t get it, she’s a librarian or something right? Could she be any more boring looking?” One said to the other and you could hear her friend agreeing, “I mean at least when you guys were hooking up it made sense, you both have so much in common, I’m sure he’ll get bored eventually Lisa don’t even worry about it, she can’t honestly think they’re going to last.”

You were so humiliated, had you really come off as plain and uninteresting? Was Bradley bored of you? You thought things were going so well and yes you had honestly been thinking about what a future with him might hold, it had only been six months but you’d never felt so loved by anyone. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you waited for them to leave, finally it got quiet and the booming music filtered through the room as someone opened the door, unlocking the stall you made your way out of the door only to realize the girl who had apparently hooked up with your boyfriend was still preening over herself in the mirror. You swiped your eyes with a tissue as you felt your skin flush and prickle, knowing her eyes were on you. She capped her lipstick and fussed with her hair, giving you a once over as she stepped towards the door. “No offense sweet pea, you seem nice but what Bradley needs is someone wild; a big personality to match his and you just aren’t that. You won’t be enough, he needs more than just a quiet wallflower to keep his attention, I’d enjoy it while it lasts if I were you.”

It felt like you’d been slapped, you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond as more tears came, you needed to get out of here; the room was spinning and you couldn’t get a deep breath, you stumbled out into the crowded space only to see that same girl with her hand on Bradley’s arm, you didn’t stick around to see anything else, your heart couldn’t bear it. Opening the ride share app you typed in your address and thanked the stars that there was only a two minute wait, typing out a half ass apology about feeling sick to Bradley and Natasha as you cried all the way home.

By the time Bradley got your message you were long gone, he had been wandering around looking for you but no one seemed to know where you’d been. He stepped outside and called you immediately but it went to voicemail, trying again with the same result. He messaged you ask if you needed him to come to you, but you replied that he should enjoy the party and that you needed to sleep, and as torn as he was he trusted that everything was ok, promising to bring you breakfast in the morning and spend the day with you. You’d cried until you couldn’t anymore and then had the worst sleep you’d had in ages, waking up to a pounding headache and knocking at your door. It was nearly 10 am, you weren’t the sleeping in type and when you checked your phone you had a litany of missed calls and texts. You groaned as you trudged down the hall to your door, not bothering to see who it was before you opened it, only to be met with the honey brown eyes of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend, coffee and a donut from your favorite shop in hand as he looked you over. “Oh baby you look like you feel awful, come on let’s get you back in bed, dr. Bradshaw has exactly what you need.” He’d said with a wink, he was acting as though everything was normal but you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate, just shrugging lightly and letting him usher you back to bed.

You’d let him in and settled into bed with him as he turned on a movie, but your smile wasn’t meeting your eyes and he could barely get a word out of you. He was really starting to worry that he’d done something wrong, but no matter how he wracked his brain he was coming up with nothing.

He’d told you once that when you smiled at him it was like you held all the answers in the universe in that one look, like you could solve any problem with a kiss and make everything ok. He wanted to be that for you, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. You’d all but turned away from him in bed and fallen asleep halfway through the movie, leaving him even more confused than before, you’d planned him an elaborate party and now you wanted nothing to do with him? What the hell was going on?

When you woke a few hours later you felt more yourself, but turning over in bed to find it empty sent worry through you all over again. “Bradley?” You called as you came down the hall, hearing the drone of the tv you sighed in relief as you found him texting on his phone while some basketball game played in the background. He gave you a small smile and held his arms out for you, but you hesitated; and he noticed. “Ok, you gotta talk to me baby I’m completely lost here, what is going on with you? We were aces yesterday and now you don’t want to touch me, I can’t fix it if I don’t know why it’s broken honey, you gotta give me something.” Your eyes welled up with tears again as you plopped down on the couch, if Bradley had been confused he was even more so now. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I know I probably ruined everything. I know I’m not the prettiest or the most fun to hang out with but I want so badly to be enough for you and I’m worried that you’ll get tired of me.” You couldn’t meet his gaze, and he was looking at you like you’d grown a third eye, his handsome features scrunched up in confusion as he tried to process what you meant. “Baby have I been making you feel like that? Shit if I have I’m so sorry-“

“Wha-no! You haven’t at all, it’s just there was this girl last night at the party, she said you guys had dated and that I wasn’t your type, and then I saw you talking with her at the party and I just- I couldn’t stand it. Thinking that I was holding you back from being who you are, I never want to be that to you.” You were staring very intently at your hands when you saw his come in to view and wrap them around you, pulling you to face him. “That girl that you’re talking about, was it Lisa?” You nodded and he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like he might snap it. “Honey I never dated her, we had a drunken hookup one time and I told her she wasn’t my type, I don’t know what the hell she said to you but she’s dead wrong. You’re everything to me, and if you’d waited around long enough last night you would’ve seen the surprise I had planned for you.”

Now it was your turn to look confused, why would he have planned something for you on his birthday? But as you looked up at him he knelt on the floor, producing a small box from his pocket. “I mean it sweet girl, you’re everything I want and I had planned on asking you this last night but you vaporized before I got the chance. I don’t need some wild free spirit, I need someone to keep me on solid ground, someone who loves me for who I really am and not the persona I have to put out to everyone around me. I want quiet nights and dancing in the kitchen and maybe one day a house full of little ones but I want it with you. So if you still want that, will you be my wife?” He was crying now too, this perfect man was everything you’d ever dreamed of and you’d nearly let something so trivial take it from you. You didn’t have to think of an answer, surging forward into his arms as you both toppled to the floor, laughing and kissing as he placed his mother’s engagement ring on your finger. All he needed was right here, warmth and love and happiness, he couldn’t think of a better birthday present than you.

Tagging🏷️- @attapullman @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @bradshawssugarbaby @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @mynameismckenziemae

[terry-perry]

I loved what you wrote, and I was wondering if I could request a follow up?

This time, Alastor has entered his rut and the reader (from the last ask) ends up helping him with it. Smut and consensual cannibalism, please!

Did I spend time reading a couple of horror erotica to get inspiration? Yes!

Do I regret it? Hell no!

Also, the request should tell you all you should know about this story, but still, TRIGGER WARNING!!!

Previous Part

You were the first thing in his life (and afterlife) that made him feel something good. You willingly gave him control when he craved it but was too proud to admit it. He didn't need to confess anything to you, however, since all you had to do was be your normal charming self while doing exactly what it took to provoke him into starting a fun cat-and-mouse game between you two.

He'd then love to see the scared look you'd have for him. He loved how you'd make an effort to run from him. He would chase you across time and space if he could. You'd never be able to get away from him even if you actually wanted to.

Once he did catch you, he would waste little time seducing you and would get to take out his aggression on you. He devoured you from the inside out, consuming every inch of your sweet body in both a figurative and literal sense.

As you continued to breathlessly take him in your bed, you mustered up enough energy to lift up your arm so you could hold your hand to his lips. This action was enough to have him release a snarling grunt as his thrusts grew harsher as he did all he could to push deeper inside of you. You cried out in bliss as he did so while capturing your hand to rip off a few of your fingers.

You'd be forever thankful for learning about Alastor's annual rut that could now satiate both of your desires. The two of you just couldn't get enough of this: how everything was forgotten as he embraced you, his hardness, and how every crevice was his for the taking.

He flipped you over so you were now on your stomach as he thrusts back in. You continued to breathe heavily, whimpering at how he yanked your hair so your head was lifted and your neck was exposed. To add to the sweet torture, he slowed down his movements, leading you to whine some more. He absolutely loved how beautiful your desperation was. Ultimately, you will think of nothing but how much more he could have of you and how much more you can take!

He relented and leaned forward to take a chunk of your shoulder as he resumed his fast pace. With that, you let out a scream you wouldn't be surprised all of Hell could hear.

If redemption could be found in others, Alastor would make it his afterlife's mission to find it in you. However, because you were the best thing he had, he'd become obsessed with keeping you. In that case, he'd rather stay in Hell to selfishly keep a hold of you, break you, shatter you into pieces, and put you back together in a way that would have you fit into his arms for all eternity.

[risingoftime]

ECHOES OF THE MIND | POOLVERINE X F!READER | CHAPTER TWO

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From your vantage point on the balcony, the world appeared distant and intimately close. The cigarette in your hand, its ember glowing softly, was a ritual, a brief escape from the whirlwind of thoughts and memories that swirled within you.

You often found solace in these moments of stillness, where the city’s rhythm became a backdrop to your internal landscape. The city, with its bustling streets and towering buildings, was both a friend and a stranger. Growing up in foster care had left you with a fragmented sense of belonging, and the cigarette was a small anchor in a sea of uncertainty. Each drag was a pause, a breath amid a life that had often spiralled out of control. Your search for solace was a constant, a thread woven through the fabric of your life.

Despite the challenges of growing up in the system, shuttling in and out of foster care, you remained resilient. The absence of a family, the mystery of your origins, and the note your mother left behind were all obstacles you faced with determination. You refused to let these circumstances define you.

The note your mother left behind was a stark reminder of your beginnings, a solitary piece of paper with just a name—a name that had been both a gift and a burden. It was a marker of your existence, but it had never been more than a name to you, a label without the context of a family or a past. This struggle with your identity was a close companion, a weight that you carried with you every day. When your gifts first made their presence known at the age of eleven, you naively thought that you were cursed, evil in a way. But as you grew, you learned to accept and understand your unique abilities, and in doing so, you found a sense of reconciliation within yourself. No one’s been your knight in shining armour. 

Now, it's just you and Amera. Amera, your loyal friend, has been by your side for as long as you can remember.  It feels as though fate intervened to keep you together because you were blessed to remain by each other’s side regardless of the tumbles and jumbles that came with being in the system. Her presence has been a source of comfort and strength, a reminder that you are not alone. She made life tolerable. As you approached the age of eighteen, the looming threat of being cast out into the world became all too real. They were forced to jump between shelters that were filled with misplaced characters who struggled with mental health, addictions, or both. 

It wasn’t until you had grown fed up with the uncertainties that you decided to take things into your own hands. The world had been unfair and harsh towards you, so you figured it wouldn’t matter how you would tip the scale to your favour. The apartment that you and Amera occupied had been a steal, literally. Amera didn’t know how you pulled it off; at barely twenty-one, you lacked the financial means typically required to secure a two-bedroom apartment in the bustling core of New York City. No one would’ve rented to two young girls with only their high school degrees and part-time minimum-wage jobs. From the moment you set your sights on that apartment, you began weaving a careful narrative to implant in his mind. You spoke confidently about your ability to pay rent, highlighting your financial stability and reliability. You were adept at using your power to play with the landlord’s mind, subtly assuring him of your dependability without stating it outright. And it worked. 

Years later, your ability continues to solidify your place within the building. You hadn’t had to pay rent since entering the apartment. Some minds were more docile than others. But with practice, no one’s consciousness was unmalleable given the right amount of force and will. Logan was the first to prove that theory wrong. 

“I thought you said that you quit.” A voice emerged from behind you, causing you to jump. 

“It’s my last pack,” you countered. 

“So you say,” Amera responded with a laugh. She joined you on the balcony with her mug, knowing it was green tea in contrast to your black instant coffee. Her long red curls wildly framed her freckled face, and her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She resembled a quirky librarian. Amera sat beside you and continued, “I’m surprised you are up this early; I was just getting ready for my clinical rotation.” She’s in the last year of her nursing program. When she told you about her ambition to go into healthcare, you had convinced her to go forward with it, and you’d “take care” of the rent. Amera remained unaware of how you managed this acquisition. You suspected that Amera thought you did sex work on the side to afford your lifestyle. 

Although you loved Amera dearly, you had never trusted anyone enough to expose your mutant identity, not since you had first discovered what you were truly capable of. 

The presence of mutants is not widely accepted in society; there has been increasing news coverage about the need to control x-gene humans. It wasn’t lost on you that the incident with Logan last night may have left you exposed.  

“Hello?” Amera waved her hand in front of your face, taking you out of your daze. “You okay? It was like your mind went to a different planet.” Her brows were furrowed as she analyzed your face.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, shaking off the lingering unease. “I just didn’t sleep well last night. I got in late from the bar 'cause Wade was fucking around instead of helping me close.” You rolled your eyes as you recounted Wade’s words of wisdom. Amera raised her eyebrows at that. 

“Wade again, huh? I swear that guy’s more trouble than he’s worth. I swear to God, if he’s the reason you’ve been more on edge lately–”

You shrugged, attempting to brush off her concern. “Tell me about it. It’s just been a hectic week, that’s all. It’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise.” you grumbled before taking another pull of your cigarette. 

Amera studied you for a moment, her concern evident. “If you need to talk about it…” 

“Thanks, Amy. You know I always bounce back eventually, but we can talk later when it’s not 5 in the morning.” You appreciated her offer; it was just like her wanting to shield you away from the pain of the world, but you weren’t ready to tell her the truth. And a part of you was unsure if you ever would be. 

She nodded, accepting your answer. “Well, I’m off to my rotation. If you need anything, text me. And maybe try to get some rest. You look like you could use it.” As Amera left, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. Her concern was genuine, but you couldn’t afford to let anyone see your vulnerabilities, especially not with the increasing scrutiny on mutants and the recent incident with Logan weighing heavily on your mind. 

Your thoughts raced as you recounted last night. Logan’s reaction had been unsettling. It was a rare occurrence, and it left you questioning whether your abilities were waning or if something about Logan made him particularly impervious. Is it possible that he was a mutant as well? You hadn’t met another person like yourself before, but of course, he might have had the ability to be unaffected by the powers of others– a walking shield of some sort. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t have to worry. Both of you would be on the same page. You’re delusional. It wasn’t as if you could assume that the man had supernatural abilities, nor was there a safe way to weasel the information out of him without explicitly exposing yourself. 

The hesitation in his demeanour proved it feasible to get ahold of his mind. He seemed intrigued but ultimately chose to leave. That was the issue; Logan could still choose to listen to your persuasion. If you possessed the gift of reading minds, you probably wouldn’t have lost as much sleep over this. Perhaps it was time to reassess your approach. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to keep a low profile and act as if yesterday hadn’t happened. The second best thing to your power of persuasion and thought projection was gaslighting. Deny and repeat. It was the best option until you could find a way to convince Peter to switch your schedule. You’d learned to play the role of a cheerful bartender well, and now it was time to use those skills to deflect any probing questions. You would need to be more cautious, especially with the growing risks associated with using your powers. The last thing you needed was for someone to become suspicious, or worse, to attract unwanted attention. You’ve gotten comfortable before, but as you've gotten older, blaming your ability to get your way on luck was no longer an option. It was time to be more vigilant. 

You had spent the day cleaning around the apartment and picking at the leftovers Amera had left for you. Your body was fidgeting, and it was impossible to sit still whenever you were nervous. Glancing at the time, it was best that you began to get ready before you were late for your closing shift at the bar. You studied your reflection, noting the weariness etched into your features. Amera was right. You needed to get some rest. Coffee and cigarettes weren’t doing your appearance any favours. By the time you were done applying your makeup, no one would suspect a thing. It was days like today; you’re grateful to wear a uniform. It made preparing for work that much easier. Female bartenders at Whiskey Whispers must wear the navy blue logo shirt that is snug and form-fitting with a low v-cut to compliment your blooming cleavage. They were accompanied by high-waisted black shorts that cut across your ass, making you appear more shapely than you were. It was a bit more revealing than you’d typically dress, but it was what brought in the tips. Throwing on a matching tracksuit to cover up, you grabbed your bag to head out for the subway. 

Walking towards the bar, you recognized him instantly. Logan leaned against the brick beside the back entrance of Whiskey Whispers with a cigar in his mouth. He wore a leather jacket with a white wife-beater underneath and his staple Levi jeans. His hair was dishevelled, and it took all your willpower not to stare. He shouldn’t be here, not at this time. Logan usually came for a drink closer to dusk. His presence didn’t allow enough time for you to think. Quickly, you steeled your mind and remembered your plan of laying low. Picking up your pace, if you got inside the back office before you could be followed, surely everything would be fine. It wouldn’t be odd not to greet him since you weren’t clocked to work yet. 

Oh, how you were wrong. Logan’s arm shot out to block the door with record speed. His sudden movement stopped you in your tracks, and you could hear your heart race as you faced the impenetrable barrier of his muscular forearm. The two of you were so close that you could inhale the heavy smoke emitted from his cigar. “Not so fast, princess.” Logan’s tone of voice was brusque but not wholly rude. He had more significant intentions than just catching up for a drink. 

You licked your lips to maintain your composure as if your mouth hadn't almost run dry. “Excuse me, Logan,” you forced your words to come out casually. I need to get settled before my shift.” Logan didn’t move an inch. His gaze felt like he was attempting to burn a hole through your eyes—steady and focused. 

He took a slow and significant drag from his cigar before exhaling the smoke to curl around his chest. “No problem, I just have a few questions. I promise it won't take long; we need to chat.” This wasn’t what you had anticipated. You fought the urge to panic. However, you knew how to handle this, stay calm and keep the conversation as short and sweet as possible. You could feel the presence of your powers stirring awake beneath the tranquil facade that you have shown. It wasn't safe to rely on them in a volatile situation like this in the public eye. 

“Questions about what? Can’t it wait? I have to get inside before I'm late.” Your voice was steady as you feigned impatience toward the man, hoping he’d get the hint. Logan pondered what you had stated and huffed, “Alright, let’s just talk, then.” He yanked the back door open, leaving little space for you to shimmy through. “After you, princess.” 

The back office was dimly lit, with lockers for workers to stash their things and old furniture that threatened to prick you with its tetanus-infected springs. The air smelled stale, and the AC hummed in the background. You needed to talk with Peter about getting the back door key card scanner fixed to avoid situations like this. Anyone could’ve entered through; the only reason no one has bothered is because of Wade’s unstable ass, some of the patrons started a rumour he got a hard-on from the thought of punching things. 

Yet, that didn’t halt Logan’s determination to get a solid answer from you. His eyes narrowed as you set your things inside the locker and began to unzip your sweater to reveal the scandalous shirt. Logan hadn’t taken care of your appearance previously; he rarely kept this much eye contact in a short period. However, now he studied your every move. 

“You know, I’ve been around for a while and seen my share of weird shit. And after last night, I think you’re not exactly who you seem to be,” he stated.

“Not sure what you’re getting at, Logan. I’m just a bartender, trying to make a living.” You rolled your eyes at him for extra effect. 

Logan flicked the ash of his cigar on the tiled floor before returning it to his lips. “Cut the crap. I know you’ve been hiding something.  You’ve got a way of making people do what you want, right?” The way that he posed the question alluded to the fact that he may have already known the answer. You were on your last resort. 

“Do you hear yourself? You’re imagining things. Maybe you had one too many drinks last night. I might need to start cutting you off earlier in the night.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded fake, a bit too high-pitched to sound genuine. 

Logan leant forward to be eye-level with you. You could feel his breath on your skin and couldn’t control your heart pounding. You began to break out in a sweat. Logan’s mannerisms were on the verge of being unhinged; behind his stone-cold brown eyes lay a wild side of him waiting to be unleashed. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I’ve dealt with enough mind games to spot a telepath when I see one. So, let’s skip pussyfooting and get to the point. What’s your deal?”

You stared back at him and remained still, although your instincts were screaming to run in the opposite direction, or worse, utilize your power with all your might to make him forget last night had ever happened. “And what if I told you that you’re wrong? What if I said I’m just good at reading people?” You gazed up at Logan through your lashes, trying to gauge his body language.

“I could hear your heart beating out of your chest. Am I making you nervous? I assure you I’m not here to play games. I know what I felt. You were messing with my head, trying to influence my decisions. You don’t do that without some kind of power.” 

Fuck. You balled your hands together in frustration and cursed under your breath. Logan wasn’t going to drop it. “So if you’re convinced I'm a mutant, why not report me? Instead, you chose to harass me at work personally.” 

“I want to know who else knows about this. I don’t want any surprises. If you’re involved in something bigger, I need to know where I stand. You get me?” Logan replied without hesitation. 

Ah, it began to make sense. He was worried about his safety, a secret of his own. “You’re a mutant,” you said, taking a step back, your voice steady but sharp. “You’re not exactly a stranger to mutant abilities, are you? I can sense something in you—something hidden behind that tough exterior. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to you.”

Logan’s expression shifted, surprise flickering in his eyes before his face hardened again. “Don’t try to flip this onto me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you retorted, your annoyance bubbling to the surface. “You’ve got that same intensity, that same ‘I’ve-seen-some-shit’ look that comes with being more than just a regular person. Maybe you’re trying to intimidate me to keep your abilities under wraps. Who else has tried to get into that head of yours?”

And for a moment, the tension between you was almost palpable. “I don’t know what you think you’re seeing, but if you’re making accusations, you better have something more concrete than your gut feelings.” He didn’t care to confirm or deny your question. 

“Logan, you might not be ready to admit it, but you’re hiding something,” you said, jabbing your index finger against his firm chest and feeling a surge of defiant energy. “And if you’re going to question me, maybe it’s time you looked in the mirror and confronted your own truths before someone discovers it for you.” You knew you were getting ahead of yourself, and your patience was thinning. 

He grabbed your hand and held it rigidly. “You think you know what you’re talking about, huh? Just remember that you can’t access my brain. I'm immune to you and your wiles.” His tone sounded like a threat.  He let go of your hand for it to fall lifelessly to your side. As Logan turned and walked away, the room seemed to settle into a heavy silence. You were left uneasy that the confrontation had only scratched the surface of deeper, more complicated truths.

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[anadiasmount]

painting date with jude filled w messy kisses 🤭🤭

cherry coated lips - jude bellingham x reader.

psa 🗣️: what about first kiss with soon to be bf! jude??? 😋😋 (also i did not proofread this so i hope it isn’t to bad to read.)

the rain had been predicted but part of you wished an prayed it would’ve been clear so your date with jude wouldn’t be canceled. it would been your 6tg date with him. the first one was him taking you to a fair, and latest where you had invited him over to make dinner and watch movies.

you loved his ideas of dates, always going above and beyond to make you feel special, he always knew how to leave his mark, and today wasn’t any different. he planned to take you on a evening out to a nice restaurant and finish the night by going to his favorite spot with a view of the new city he lived in, painting and having late night conversation.

with jude it could be just that, talk hours and hours together till the sun rose and moon was bright. he made you feel like the luckiest girl and you were. you were lucky to have met jude, and in any given occasion he became your person. he understood you, he cared for you, he knew you better than yourself and that was a bit scary at first.

while you always surrounded yourself with your circle of friends, when meeting jude you grew a soft spot and love for him. you both agreed to take it slow to relish the slow burn every time you were together. to feel the feelings inside every time. the tension was always present but lately it began to fill the room anytime you were together.

you became a nervous and stutter mess with him. not being able to keep eye contact when he stared into you. you skin burning everytime he held your hand or kissed your cheek goodbye. you wanted more but you felt unsure if he felt the same way you did for him.

you wanted this to go different from your past relationship. the last one made you feel like a shitty person, always calling you naive or clingy, being insecure when you went out or even alone in private. always complaining to you even when they were in the fault. they blamed you for everything and in the end you had enough. it wasn’t love it was being manipulated and constantly controlled by a person who couldn’t even figure out their own life.

with him it was different. he was almost too perfect to be true. a gentleman straight out the movies who made you feel like there could be no one else in the world besides you two.

which is how you felt right now. you were sat on the carpet of your flat, candles surrounded the place as the power had gone out due to the storm, but in a way it made it feel more romantic. the evening was filled with yummy takeout from a hidden spot in the city, a place only you and jude knew after going finding it randomly. since then it became your guys spot.

you giggled and laughed at the stories he told from when he started the academy at birmingham, later on in his teenage years in year school. about how jobe and him were day ones and valued family over anything. football was his life, but family and friends? we’re his main priority. just like you since they were the only ones there to lift you up after anything.

“have you seen those artist on tiktok where they use their led lights when painting? i feel like that right now with all these candles. i wish i could see the colors properly to see what i’m working with,” you said, licking your lips in concentration as the thin brush ran over the outline you had drawn into the canvas.

you looked over to the side, jude had suddenly came close to you, a arm around you and but placed on the couch cushions barely touching you. you could smell the faint cologne on him, driving your senses a bit into overdrive. you had been sitting on your bum but your knees began to hurt and now they were angled to the right.

“whatever the ending piece is, i’m sure it will look great, y/n,” jude said with a smile on his face, clinking the brush inside the glass of water on his side. jude looked over to see which brush and paint color to use next, quickly looking at his canvas before going with his intuition.

the familiar tension grew in the air, your bodies close together that if you moved you’d be side to side. you cleared your throat scratching your temple feeling like you’d explode any minute that passed by if you didn’t say or do anything. you attempted to distract yourself in the art but your mind was tracing back to him. jude. ir always seemed to be him.

you thought of every encounter together. that first time you met him and the kiss on your cheek when you had left, to right now where you wanted to do more than that. not sex but share your anticipated first kiss. the kiss that seemed to be interrupted by someone passing by, a loud noise, or a sudden jult or text. it was always something that had delayed the moment.

jude could feel your sudden change in body language, the end of the brush tapping against the canvas as you think loudly. he wanted to hold you against him, before he had to leave and wish he had done more than that. he wanted to taste a small bit of you, show you that whatever you felt he felt the same and stronger.

without hesitating, he brushed closer to you, being able to smell the hair products and see the glint in your eyes as he approached you. “penny for you thoughts?,” he asked softly, seeing you smile nervously as yo finally landed your brush on the outline. “not much, just thinking about school and work. the usual,” you shrugged as lighting struck again.

“what’s the usual?”

“you…” you confessed, looking up to see jude already starting at you. you were being openly honest with him, not wanting to lie because he was the only thing that consumed your head.

“what’s about me?” jude hummed, his finger discreetly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he cocked his head to the side. your stomach clenched tightly with butterflies as you could’ve sworn he stared at your lips and leaned closer.

“that if you…” you licked your bottom lip unable to get the words out, feeling like a shy school girl when getting called out or seeing the popular guy at school. “that if you feel the same way i do… feelings wise and that this isn’t just a waste of time or anything like that…” you said quickly, feelings jude’s nose ontop of yours.

“oh those feelings…” jude traced and e his nose into your cheek, watching the way you bit the corner of your lip as he did. “the feelings where you want to be reassured huh? the feelings you’ve hid because you’re afraid they won’t feel the same way? but deep down you know they do feel the same way…” he taunts, closing his eyes and breathing loudly at the proximity.

jude’s nose traced back ontop of yours, watching how you gulped heavily as his top lip ever so slightly brushed against yours. “tell me you want this, y/n… i’ll grant you every wish you want or ask for because i’ll do anything to call you my girlfriend…” jude said breathlessly, his hand coming to hold the back of your head as your pupils grew wide.

your hand came to his jaw, tracing your thumb over his jawline as he closed his eyes and hummed in relief. “kiss me jude…” you whisper not wanting to hold back or be interrupted by anything. jude sucked in a breath tasting your cherry coated lips he pulled you closer, his lips molding with yours that made his heart race a bit.

his lips danced with yours in sync, not once pulling back as all he could focus on was the way the two of you had gotten lost into it. his tongue wanting to be grant permission and tracing over your bottom lip, to be inside to fully taste you, and once he did all he could do was let out a groan as you whimpered. jude was in love with the way you kissed, touched his chest as your lips never parted from his, the way you tasted sweet and all his.

you pulled away first catching a breath as your hands rest on his chest, biting your lip in nervousness. jude looked completely in utter chaos, fucked over, his brown eyes now hooded as they continued to stare at you, running his tongue over his lips to see you shyly smiling. you placed a final peck onto his lips, jude closing his eyes rapidly so he could relish the kiss further.

“god i’ve been dying to do that since we were on that ferris wheel…” jude said chuckling, kissing your closed eyes and tip of your nose, not failing to notice how your lips were slightly swollen and plump from the kiss. he wanted more and now that he said what he wanted to say, there was no going back for the two of you.

“about the girlfriend thing-” you started to say but jude cut you off, “thought our kiss made it clear?” jude teased, watching how you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck feeling giddy. “you are my girlfriend right, princess?” he asked you again, wanting to hear fall from your lips. “yes jude… as long as you’re my boyfriend handsome…” you say coming back up from your spot.

“i think a kiss will confirm it all…” jude cocked his eyebrow, leaning down to capture your lips again, smiling into it as he heard you giggling. a familiar sound of the microwave turning back on and the lights suddenly brighting the room made you realize the power was back on, your kiss interrupted again or maybe was the cause of it.

“oh my gosh! jude look at my painting!”