#del is anxious about something

[elejahfanfic]

Fides Cordis |

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@darknightfrombeyond

[iishmael]

I cant Sleep :( anxiety

[aphrodicci]

ɴᴏʀᴛʜ ɴᴏᴅᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ

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and this was a prize post for surpassing a following milestone? im not sure but either way thank you for everyone who has helped me gain this much supporters <3

north node is now cheaper when trying to buy asteroids/others through my paid readings :)

i did my research by talking to close friends and researching celebrities! take the degrees with a grain of salt.

♇ the north node is about your individual path your life takes and inevitably becomes. can mean where you are exposed, what you could fear and even obsess over.

♇ north node in aries/1h [1°/13°/25°] ⟶ becoming a leader, being the face of something, a company, a show etc. being the first to do something, specifically within your family. anger issues, passion for sports or being a champion. excellent at theatre/acting, people might want to expose your life, your goals so they can steal. if not careful can become filled with rage, could have accidents with the head. could have a fear of being pushed aside, not recognised.

celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ mariah carey, emilia clarke and martin luther king.

♇ north node in taurus/2h [2°/14°/26°] ⟶ excellent cooks. to become rich, and obsession with feeling beautiful, could be obsessed with money. very possessive over other people or their own possessions. very vocal people. could get sore throats a lot, can have their privacy exposed/boundaries crossed. great singers, distinct voices, a need to be heard. and could have a lot of people wanting to be them, could have a fear of losing their value, or losing their possessions. classis beauty.

celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ lana del rey, sharon tate and bella hadid.

♇ north node in gemini/3h [3°/15°/27°] ⟶ spokespeople, known to say silly things. like to win arguments, very direct people. other people might ridicule or nitpick everything they say. insecure of not being taken seriously, be careful of car accidents or just bad drivers, being associated with cars. amazing at marketing, people could parade the person a lot.

celebrities with this north node placement ⟶ khloe kardashian, jfk kennedy and billie eilish.

♇ north node in cancer/4h [4°/16°/28°] ⟶ to make a family, a foundation or a legacy and leaving a will. to have a tribe, obsession with sense of belonging. conflict with family. disconnection with family, can also be a try-hard. can com from a popular family.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ britney spears, prince harry and michelle obama.

♇ north node in leo/5h [5°/17°/29°] ⟶ charismatic, can be obsessed with achievements and goals. famous children. are very goal-oriented, can have a fear of failure, which sometimes causes them to be strict. protective over children, having children with popular/wealthy people and they can be easily admired and glorified. succeed in their talents and hobbies.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ beyoncé, angelina jolie and kim kardashian.

♇ north node in virgo/6h [6°/18°] ⟶ could have a problem with health, obsession with being perfecting. servicing others, a worker, deep insecurities. copying others. could have a fear of not being perfect, anxious, can be harsh with your words. very erratic as well.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ kylie jenner, jennifer lopez and kourtney kardashian.

♇ north node in libra/7h [7°/19°] ⟶ could be obsessed with getting into relationships. could have a fear of being disliked. beware of too much cosmetic surgery. inevitable marriage, soul-mate finding. marrying someone famous/wealthy. can be very flaky, needs to find balance. sometimes could find themselves with troubling marriages. fear of ending up alone.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ madonna, michael jackson and ashanti.

♇ north node in scorpio/8h [8°/20°] ⟶ be careful with cosmetic surgery. obsessive spending, money obsession and sex. fear of losing everything, possessions, money and power along with liberty. destined to be or become rich or leave a legacy. obsessive, easily addicted to drugs and can be vengeful. could be stalkers or are the ones stalked and scrutinised by others.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ megan thee stallion, paris hilon and jungkook.

♇ north node in sagittarius/9h [9°/21°] ⟶ teachers, students of life and researches. fear of feeling stupid or stuck in life. not believing yourself. can be very conceited, others might like to steal from others. feeling like a God, superiority complex; obsessed with learning. burn-outs or spoiled. can be too lustful; becoming publishers, directors and screen-writers. even Gurus, people looking up to them. trading illegal stuff, talent with bitcon.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ ariana grande, cardi b and demi lovato.

♇ north node in capricorn/10h [10°/22°] ⟶ unbalance with power, authority issues. public clashes, fear of being forgotten or overlooked. seen as attractive, some can be crazy or pushed to be crazy. ambitious, rich and bold. can mean accidents, fear of being watched, fear of failing. obsessive with reputation and legacy, destined to be known for something, becoming a boss, or another high position.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ adele, selena gomez and gwyneth paltrow.

♇ north node in aquarius/11h [11°/23°] ⟶ fear of loneliness and losing friends. could be a controlling friend or have friends who are controlling/manipulative. random fame, random wealth. fame from the internet, getting money from the internet. inventing something, creating trends and being a humanitarian. ego-death. accidents. deceptive friends or is the deceptive friends, angry conflicts on the internet, with friends or with people in the same community as them.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ lady gaga, miranda kerr and the weeknd.

♇ north node in pisces/12h [12°/24°] ⟶ falling into delusions. obsessive and intrusive thoughts, can become famous, but fame will be very damaging fo the mental health. addictions, specifically with alcohol. nightmares. making sacrifices, people having ill-intent, doing witch-craft on you or you could be someone who practices it. can mean moving far from home place, nasty hidden enemies, having your dreams come true.

celebs with this north node placement ⟶ rihanna, justin bieber and marilyn monroe.

masterlist

paid chart readings

♇

[cherryswisherz]

UNRAVEL ME: escape/return

♱ CONTAINS: a closer look into paige and sierra's relationship dynamic, a physically abusive marriage (this chapter contains descriptions of abuse, descriptions of bruising from abuse as well as homicidal intentions) a toxic marriage, alcoholism, forbidden feelings and an unhealthy amount of commas and parenthesis.

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: based on this request. this is kinda ass and i'm sorry for the wait, i started a new job and ive been trynna adjust to the new schedule, but hers the new chapter and i'm working on yall requests, first one will be from @fuddsgf because gf comes first (im being forced)

"our days are numbered, wired and i'm tired of it. i know you're trying but you'll never unravel me"

unravel me (sabrina claudio, 2017)

♱♱♱♱

in Fucked Up Fairytales, megan fox writes:

Violent boy, full of rage and insecurities. Your hands are so beautiful and strong. You use them to hurt me now. Delicate bruises splayed across my jaw. I wonder what you are thinking while I cry and beg you to stop.

obviously kaylee fudd was a woman, but azzi still found herself thinking of this poem as her uber driver drove at an ungodly pace to her hotel in sicily.

she knew what was coming the moment she stepped into that room and she found it helpful that she wasn't anxious or weighed down by anticipation. she'd done this too many times to not know.

what she did feel, was fear. every time kaylee hit her, azzi wondered if that time would be the last. if that time would be the time kaylee killed her, or if that time would be the time she'd had enough and killed herself.

as the car slowed to a stop, azzi forced herself to push the beginning of the day to the back of her mind. thinking of her excertions with paige would only make what was about to happen hurt worse. and by the time she'd gotten her room key, and found room #13 azzi found herself unsuccessful.

she stood outside that door for 2 full minutes telepathically apologizing to paige for the way she left, then, after she felt her message had been delivered, she slid the card into the reader and slowly pushed the door open to collect her penance for sins she didn't quite understand.

♱

paige didn't have to take an uber to get to hotel alberi del paradiso. the restaurant that azzi had left her at was close enough to walk. and while she walked, she tried her hardest to understand.

to understand why azzi had switched up so quickly. to understand why it bothered her so much that azzi wanted to be anywhere else but with her.

there was so much about azzi that she didn't understand and she had the strongest feeling, deep in her gut, that that's what azzi wanted. azzi was hiding something.

she was hiding something, and paige wanted nothing more than to uncover the truth, but she knew it wasn't her business. she had her own shit to worry about, like her marriage.

sierra- who she hadn't heard from all day- wasn't in the hotel when paige got there. the room hadn't even been checked into and paige didn't feel like going back to the boat to get her luggage.

she honestly didn't want to call sierra, but her laziness was something she was working on. the phone didn't even finish ringing once, before sierra's whiney voice cut through.

"paigey?"

paige hated that nickname when it came from anyone besides her little brother, drew. when sierra met paige's family, she took it and ran with it.

throughout their relationship, she did alot to try and mold herself into the family. she'd adapted nicknames, looked though photobooks, planned vacations. she did so much, and yet... she never really fit.

and paige never heard the end of it. after every family excursion, sierra would whine about looks that her brothers had thrown her way, or comments her sister would make that didn't sit right on her chest.

and paige felt bad. trust that she tried to talk to drew, ryan and lauren. but she couldn't force her siblings to like her wife. she could make her parents stop with the side bar convos, or judgemental remarks to something sierra said. (even if paige agreed that sierra needed to learn the art of time and place)

but again, reader, paige loved her wife. and so yes, she did try to talk to her family about the way the treated sierra, and no, she didn't roll her eyes when she called her the nickname reserved for drew.

"hey si." paige breathed out. she was sprawled out on her hotel bed, talking to her wife, but her mind was still on azzi. "where you at?"

"i'm on the way to the hotel right now," sierra started. "i've just been going, taking pictures and st- OH!" she cut her own self off, "you'll never guess who's on the cruise!"

paige could hear the smile in sierra's voice. she didn't really care she was talking about, but she sounded so happy, that she had to feed into it.

"who, baby?"

"carter!"

carter is sierra's personal trainer. the one paige pays for every month despite the fact that she's a professional athlete who kills herself to keep in shape.

he's a really short guy, but beefy. the kinda man who would be endorsed by creatine and vape pens.

paige never really liked him, and sierra never talks about him, so she's a little confused by the pure joy in her wifes voice, but she digressed.

"oh for real?" she asked, not really interested. "ya'll been kickin it?"

"yeah, he showed me around," paige got up and went to the bathroom, putting the phone on mute, so she could piss. "apparently he vacations in sicily every summer."

paige didn't respond because.... ya know.

"heelllooo?" sierra questioned, "you still there, p?"

now, done and wiping, paige unmuted herself. "sorry, si, i was using the bathroom."

a scoff came through the line, and paige automatically knew it was boutta be some shit. "are you serious?" sierra's voice raised a little, "you're peeing while i'm talking to you?"

paige rolled her eyes in the mirror as she washed her hands. "si, i was listening i was j-"

sierra cut her off (something you'll learn is a common occurence) "no, you weren't listening because you were on the toilet."

"sierra i had to piss." paige picked the phone up, and left it on speaker, throwing it on the bed when she reached the bedroom of their suite. "what the fuck was i supposed to do?"

"you could have waited!"

"bro-" the blonde ran a hand down her face in an attempt to remove the tension growing in her forehead. "i'm not doing this right now."

"of course not,"

it was almost routine. sierra getting mad, paige getting annoyed, paige trying to nip it in the bud, sierra never letting her.

you'll read the word 'exhaust' quite a bit, reader, because that's what this marriage was.

exhausting. paige was exhausted.

but that's what she'd signed up for, right?

"you on your way or not?" she asked, desperate to get off the phone.

"yes." sierra bit out. "i am on my fucking way. be outside in 20, because your back is fucking huge and i'm not carrying it the whole way."

"fantastic."

and the paige ended the call.

♱

azzi almost doesn't recognize herself.

her swollen lip stings as she pats it with a hotel wash cloth. her eye is swelling and black and her cheekbone is bleeding.

times like this make azzi regret buying that wedding band. she was losing count of how many 'acne scars' it had caused.

she wasn't even crying, just tapping at her bleeding fac, but it was no use. the blood just kept on flowing, pouring out of her in a way that was almost symbolistic.

she sighed and threw the cloth onto the counter, limping her way out of the bathroom.

not to anyone's surprise, kaylee was passed out on the couch in the suite. she reeked. azzi could smell her from across the room as she stared at the ring.

silver. with diamonds surrounding the center and two bands of smaller ones surrounding the edges.

when azzi was picking it out, she thought it was beautiful. she'd nver thought she'd be looking at it covered by her blood.

she saw her wallet on the coffee table in front of the couch, and an idea popped into her head.

azzi wasn't known for her impulsivity. she'd always been a planner. but she was in a different country.

she was in a different country, and if she stopped sharing her location, kaylee would have no way to find her. she had enough cash to get a hotel and she could just.. stay in an air bnb until she figured out what the fuck she was gonna do.

there were air bnb's in sicily right?

azzi didn't know. she didn't know anything, honestly. she just knew she was hurting.

and she was so tired of hurting. of aching.

so with a shakey voice, she called out, "kay?"

kaylee sniffled and rolled over a little, but she didn't wake up.

that was all she needed.

azzi snatched her wallet off the table and bolted towards the door.

she ran. out of the room, out of the elevator, out of the building.

she sprinted until she realized she didn't have shoes on and her big toe was throbbing more than it had been the past few days.

then she walked. speed walked, actually, and found a hotel on google maps that was a mile away.

hotel alberi del paradiso.

freedom.

during that mile walk, azzi thought about what she was doing. she was a public figure. the state of her would be leaked to every magazine. she'd always had a special hatred for people's...

she'd never be able to play basketball again, because she knew if she returned to the states, kaylee would find her.

how would she explain to her family that she was now a resident of italy?

but it didn't matter. all of the technicalities were null and void because she was free.

she was starting at her safe haven.

not a big hotel, but a flashy one with tree's by the entrance.

it was beautiful. azzi could have cried as she teetered to the door.

but once again, she was struck across the face, only this time, it was a door, and not the woman she'd sworn her love to.

"shit- i'm so sor-" the voice sent a chill down azzi's spine and she was reminded of the other woman she'd run away from that day. "azzi?"

paige.

of. fucking. course.

paige was crouched down beside azzi, who was halfway up by then.

"i didn't mean to hit you with the..." her sentence faded off when she finally got a look at the other woman's face. "the fuck.."

azzi rose with quickness, not saying anything when she pushed past paige, but paige was quicker, grabbing the brunette by the bicep and forcing her to turn back around.

or at least she tried to.

azzi jerked out of her hand and froze like a deer in headlights.

she knew what she looked like. she was the epitome of 'battered wife' and she knew that. bare, bleeding feet. her natural hair peeking through from braids that slipped from being pulled. her face had to have swelled and brusing even more in the time it'd been since she left.

yeah... azzi knew how she looked.

but she hated the way paige looked even more than she hated herself in this moment.

she was looking at her like she was fragile, and azzi had survived too much to be fucking fragile.

so for once, she spoke her mind. "stop... looking at me like that." she had a lisp from her busted lips. "it's fine."

paige's eyebrow's shot to her hairline for just a second, before she caught herself. then, she fixed her face and took a step forward, testing the waters in a sense.

"okay-" she halted when azzi took a step away from her. "it's fine. everything gonna be fine."

her tone...

her voice was soft. and it didn't sound like she was trying to convince anyone of anything. it was like it was fact. like she truly knew that everything was going to be fine.

and that's when the tears started welling in azzi's eyes. burning like alcohol on a wound. she tried to bite her lip in an attempt to stop herself from crumbling but that hurt like a bitch, so she let the tears fall with a sharp inhale and a hiss of pain because everything was not gonna be fine.

everything was ruined, and azzi said that when her knee's buckled underneath her and she almost fell to the ground in a pathetic puddle of tears.

key word: almost.

♱

paige was there in a second, breaking her fall. and there they were. azzi trembling in this woman's arm that she hardly even knew. and the other woman, holding her and fighting off tears of her own.

and they stayed there- with passersby giving them cruel looks- azzi folded in paige's lap, for an unknown amount of minutes.

a bellhop eventually came and told them that they 'couldn't do this here' to which paige replied, 'get the fuck on somewhere'

and he did in fact, get the fuck on somewhere. and paige thought that was the end of the interruptions until a manager approached them and asked that they move.

"i mean i can't really make her move."

"i'm just asking-"

"you see she's going through something, right?"

"well, yes but-"

"it's a yes or no question." paige deadpanned.

she didn't understand why he'd thought she was gonna do anything other than allow azzi all the time she'd needed.

"do you, or do you not see she's going through something?"

"yes." the manager gave a curt nod and began fidgeting his fingers. paige was fully aware that he was just doing his job and that she and azzi's position was anything but convenient.

she also couldn't give less of a fuck about convenience in that moment.

"then give her a fucking secon-"

she was cut off by that same whiney voice, "paigey?"

"jesus fucking christ..."

"is she okay?" the way sierra said 'okay' made is abundantly clear that she didn't care about azzi's current state. she sounded less concerned than the manager who'd just told them to move.

sierra seemed... annoyed. with her face scrunched and her nose literally turned up at the scene, paige's wife seemed annoyed at an obviously hurt woman moaning in pain in the middle of a hotel entrance.

"not right now, si." paige muttered, turning her attention back to azzi, who was still a mess in her arms.

"why not right now? what the fuck is happen-"

"NOT RIGHT NOW, SIERRA."

now reader, you might remember the rules from the previous chapter, and i feel the need to say paige hadn't meant to yell. not as loudly as she did, and she didn't mean for her voice to crack the way it had, but this was ridiculous for reasons i dont think i have to explain.

"just-" she closed her eyes for a second, willing herself to whoosah. "just go to the fucking room, please?"

sierra was silent as she made her way into the building. when she was gone, the hotel manager looked like he was gonna open is mouth again and paige nipped that in the bud before he could speak.

"i'm workin on it."

and then they were alone.

paige looked down at azzi and her heart broke. she was bloody and bruised and still so beautiful.

"hey," she whispered, sliding fallen curls across the womans forehead. "we gotta get up, can you get up for me?"

azzi said nothing, but sucked in the sob she'd been about to release and that was signal enough for paige that she couldn't get up so she got up on her haunches and hooked a brown arm around her pale neck and it didn't move until they'd gotten to her hotel room.

"alright, we're gonna go to the bathroom okay?" paige's voice was soft, almost weary. "when we go in, we're gonna go to the bathroom, and you can take a shower, okay?"

"it hurts." azzi sounded scratchy.

she'd stopped crying, and moved on to silent trembling, which drove paige crazier.

she thought she'd rather hear the hurt than see it.

"what hurts?"

"every-" azzi swallowed. "thing."

"everything?" a nod. "let's go in first, yeah? then i can look at you."

when they got in, sierra was sitting with her ankles crossed, back to the headboard, scrolling on her phone. paige didn't even have time to think before,

"she can't stay here."

paige froze, gobsmacked. "bro?"

"i'm not your 'bro', i'm your wife and i say she can't sleep here." sierra sassed with a nod at azzi, who again, said nothing.

"can you wait in the bathroom for me?" paige looked to the woman b by her side and guided her to the suite bathroom.

when the door closed, paige whipped her head towards her wife. "sierra, look at her. she shouldn't be alone."

"i don't c-"

the blonde put her palm in the air, "she's staying."

"no, paaaiiiggge." sierra whined, like this was going to ruin her whole night. she rose from the bed, making her way to paige, who was beginning to get irritated.

"you s-"

"she stays, i go."

it was as if it truly wasn't her problem so she truly didn't care, "you serious right now?" paige whole face screwed up, staring at this woman, who used to have a heart of gold.

sierra was mute as she hardneding her stance, folding her arms across her chest.

clearly, the same couldn't be said today.

"then charge your room to my card."

♱

in the bathroom, azzi sat on the toilet internally yelling at herself.

she really thought she'd get away? she thought- what? she'd become italian? tan for the rest of her life and eat authentic italian dishes and forget the that she's married? that she's a public figure?

how could she be so fucking stupid?

now, she's sitting in a bathroom, listening to someone she hardly knew argue with her wife about her. because all she was in that moment was a charity case.

fuck.

she didn't stop cussing herself out when the bathroom door creeped open and paige poked her head in and spoke. azzi didn't hear what she said, until a hand wrapped around her shoulder.

"huh?" she snapped her head up.

"i said, do you wanna talk?"

did she want to talk?

it was like her brain was running behind. she'd heard what paige said, but she couldn't even begin to answer that question.

did she wanna talk?

about what?

there was so mu-

"how bout this." paige sat with her back to the wall across from the toilet. "imma ask you a question and if you wanna answer, you can and if you don't, just say that. aight?"

azzi nodded, not because she wanted to talk, but because she knew she seemed insane right then. that she looked frazzled and shell shocked and she didn't know paige enough to trust that she'd be fine helping her without an explanation.

"what hurts?" azzi wiggled her toes a little because her feet were still achey and had started to scab. "your feet?" azzi nodded and jumped a little when the blonde jumped up and took the empty bag out of the waste bin.

she turned the hot water on in the bathtub and when it was hot, she filled the bin and planted it in front of the toilet.

"soak em." azzi did.

"kaylee did that?" she wagged a finger at azzi's face. "she hit you?"

azzi didn't say anything, but she knew she'd answered when her eyes flew to paige's.

what was understood, didn't need to be said.

"she been hittin' you?" azzi hugged herself, feeling the scar under her breast beneath her clothes. "you gotta answer me, fudd." paige sighed, sliding back down the wall. "is this the first time she's hit you?"

azzi wanted to say that no, it isn't the first time. she wanted to say that all kaylee does is hit her, but she didn't. she couldn't think of the words. instead she thought of the actual first time, and how the shock hurt worst than the actual slap.

she just nodded. lying was easier than explaining that she's chosen to stay with an abuser. people tended to judge situations like hers, and though she hated being pitied, she didn't have it in her to be judged. so as far as paige had to know, yes, it was the first time kaylee hit her.

"it's the last." paige determined. "you're not going back to her. i hope you know that."

azzi's ears wanted to perk up at the idea of being rid of her wife, but her body deflated instead.

she knew better.

"i have to." she croaked out. "i always have to go back."

"you just sai-"

"the last time i tried to leave, she tried to kill me." azzi looked at paige then. her expression was readable- to say the least. "she tried to put my head in the lazy susan, but it wouldn't open wide enough so she cut me."

her eyes never left paige's.

"so i have to go back." azzi thought about getting up to right then, but she was tired, and she doubted paige would let her go anyway. "i wanna sleep."

"yeah..." paige trailed off before snapping out of whatever daze had her staring. "okay. imma get you some clothes."

♱

paige spent that night watching azzi sleep from the lounge chair across the room. her heart dropped at every twist and turn, every unconscious hiss, every crack in azzi's bones.

she paid every ounce of attention she had to the woman in her bed until the sun came up and she fell asleep.

when she woke up, azzi was gone and a note was on the coffee table in the suite's living room.

" i'm sorry about last night. i gave the linen to room service. i'll see you on the boat. thanks, fudd. "

♱TAGLIST: @patscorner @fuddsgf @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini

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[bellestarot]

Pick a Pile

What's Next in Life?💐

♡ Take your time to choose

︵‿︵‿︵ʚĭɞ‿︵‿︵‿

Pile I

You're about to level up emotionally. I see you moving from getting hurt easily to someone who can handle emotions in a better way. Maybe it was hard for you in the past, but I see some major emotional glow-ups happening.

You're also going to get braver. Life's going to throw some challenges your way that'll help you grow.

Your adventurous side is coming out to play. You'll be at peace exploring and discovering more about yourself. I see you traveling and visiting new places, but you're doing it for yourself, not for anyone else.

You'll be surrounded by awesome people. True and genuine friendships are on their way to you in the next chapter of your life. If you had trouble with friends before, that’s about to change. Great people are coming, and the universe has your back.

You’ve been through a lot, but now you can finally trust in the situation and these new friends. I see so much happiness coming your way!

Pile II

I see success and happiness in something you’ve put a lot of work and effort into for a long time. This could be related to academics, work, or something personal. You’ve worked really hard, staying up late, feeling anxious and tired, but you kept pushing through. There were many moments when you thought about giving up, but you didn’t. Now, I see a lot of abundance coming your way in the next chapters of your life.

People will be congratulating you and happy for you because you achieved what you wanted.

I also see some family issues. This won't apply to everyone who chose Pile 2, but some of you might relate to what I’m saying. Maybe some of you have issues with your mom or a strong female figure in the family.

There might be problems related to money or how money is used in the family, causing feelings of sadness. These are more emotional issues rather than health-related ones.

I see some disappointment with the family in certain areas. However, any conflict you might have with a female figure in the family will get resolved. Having this kind of relationship can hurt a lot, but I see it ending and getting better. So, for some of you, this might be a message of support and positivity regarding a connection that's not going well right now, and I can say it will definitely improve in the next chapters.

Pile III

I see you getting savvier about other people. In the past, you might have been too nice, always wanting to help others, but when you needed help, no one was there for you. I see you starting to notice this around you and saying, "No, I don’t want that for myself." You’re becoming smarter about what you share with others and what you post online.

You’ll start realizing that everything is energy and that sometimes people don’t have good vibes or thoughts for you. This will lead you to protect your energy more.

You’re going to become very spiritual. (You’re already spiritual since you’re reading tarot), but I see you diving even deeper. You’ll get more interested in this world, studying more, listening to others, and connecting more with nature.

This will bring you closer to your truth and who you are, and I see that’s what you’re looking for—getting to know yourself better, discovering more about you, praying, and protecting yourself. I see you becoming a very spiritual person in the next chapters of your life.

You used to listen more than you spoke, but now I see you speaking up, sharing your opinions. There might have been some hesitation, wondering if people will like what you say or if it makes sense. But I see you finding the courage to express yourself and your thoughts. You’re super smart and interested in things that others might not be paying attention to.

I see you getting into these topics and being able to talk about them in an engaging and well-expressed way.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

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

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

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

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

[flanaganfilm]

Do you have any “don’t meet your heroes” stories from working in Hollywood?

Absolutely. Hollywood really is a place like no other. If you grow up loving cinema, certain people can take on mythic status in your imagination. Actors, filmmakers; they are larger than life. They become idols in the truest sense - an image that is actually worshipped. But Hollywood is actually full of very weird human beings who have been lucky enough to make their living in a world of make-believe. A huge percentage of the people who work in this industry are strange birds, unsuited for working anywhere else.

Some of our biggest stars wouldn't last ten minutes working a real job; some of our most exalted filmmakers collapse inward if they're in a crowded room. They can have unusual talents, or beauty, or unique perspectives and abilities that have propelled them to various levels of success, or even stardom, but they're just normal, neurotic people.

And success, fame, and money can really twist people. It can be like radiation. They can go full Gollum from it.

But most people who work in Hollywood are not stars at all. The vast majority of people who work here are not rich, not famous. Most are hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen who are fighting every day to make a living, scraping by the best they can in an industry that is brutal, impersonal, and impenetrable. But every single person in this business - whether they are superstars or not - are just ordinary people. They're insecure, anxious, and prone to all of the failings we mortals are prone to. Some of them are awesome; some of them are assholes. But most of the people here (even the superstars) quietly feel like they don't belong, or that they don't deserve it, or that their sheer ordinariness will be discovered any minute. In fact, it's the people who seem to feel the opposite - those rare people who feel that they DO belong here, and deserve the lifestyle this industry can afford, who are inevitably the least likable ones I've met.

As I've been lucky enough to keep working in this business, I've met a lot of the people who I idolized along the way. Filmmakers and actors who I admire so much, whose work has shaped the trajectory of my life without them knowing it. I've been starstruck every time, and I am still am - I stammer, I freeze, and I kick myself for what I say, or don't say, or how I said it. I'm not good at it. I have acute social anxiety, and when you throw me at someone I admire, I turn into a blubbering idiot. They say "don't meet your heroes" because you may (likely will) be disappointed by just how ordinary they truly are. Or worse, they may even turn out to be people you wouldn't want to interact with in normal circumstances - your heroes might be people you wouldn't want to invite to coffee. The persona you have admired is a product in itself, something you bought, something you have taken home and displayed proudly in your imagination... but the human being behind that persona is full of all the ordinary failings. That can be really hard to reconcile. So yeah, a long-winded way of saying that I've had the experience of meeting people I admired a great deal only to be disappointed, or worse. I've got some nightmare stories in there where the actual person violently shattered the idol I'd built in my imagination. I won't share those stories, there's little point in that, but instead I'll talk about the rare exceptions - the few heroes I've met who were every bit as awesome as I'd hoped they'd be. They may say "never meet your heroes," but they haven't met Mark Hamill. I worked with Mark on The Fall of the House of Usher, and he is one of my favorite people. Kind, generous, humble, and so, so funny. I was nervous and excited to meet Mark for the obvious reasons, because of the hero he was in my imagination - but I got to meet Mark the actor, the father, the husband, the humanitarian, and the friend. Guillermo Del Toro - one of my biggest heroes, his work has meant so much to me. And I was terrified to meet him. But he is one of the most joyful, honest, sweet-natured people I've met in the business, and his love for movies is infectious. For me, the man himself exceeded the myth.

I've been lucky to meet other exceptions to this rule, heroes of mine who exceeded my expectations - Ewan McGregor, Mick Garris, Brian Henson, Heather Langenkamp, Henry Thomas - and yeah, I've had the other experience too. But I try to focus on the exceptions. It can be unhealthy to idolize people - unhealthy for you, and unhealthy for them. But it's truly awesome when someone is even more amazing than you imagined.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 31

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- trigger warning! sexual harassment/assault & panic attacks. If you struggle with any of these things. Please skip the italicized section of this chapter! 🤍

Remy’s POV

The day has finally come. My overdue performance review is today.

Things are really looking up. Finally things are going my way.

All the time I spent sucking up to Joe and the other executives, writing for Rachel, and bending over backwards for this company, would finally pay off.

I was now saving twice as much as before, since I no longer had to send my late mother any money each month.

A week has gone by since Billie and I worked things out. Things took a few days to get back to normal, but we’re taking advantage of the time before she’s set to leave for Brisbane, Australia.

Billie leaves in exactly one week.

I wish we had more time together, but luckily my time-off request was approved for next month, so I could go join her for a couple weeks in March.

I sit in my office, looking out at the pretty Los Angeles skyline, admiring the February breeze hitting the trees, as the birds take flight from branch to branch, singing their early morning song.

I wait for Joe to call me into his office, typing away, checking things off my to-do list. My anxious rituals usually include freaking out and overthinking every word I need to say, but today I feel at peace. I know Joe will play dumb and congratulate me on my hard work, the way he does each year, then give me a $100 Visa gift card. And to that, I will say thank you, then pitch him the reason I deserve a small raise, or at the very least, a bonus. Regardless, another year will go by where I wish I had my own column, my own articles to write.

To pass the time, I walked into the ladies’ restroom to touch up my makeup. I looked at my outfit from all angles, pulling down my gray, pleated, mini skirt a bit, and fixing my tightly fitted, blue striped blouse. I lifted my thigh-high socks a bit, making sure they’re at the right height, turning to make sure everything looks good from the back too. I stare in the mirror wondering how this outfit isn’t an HR violation, but remind myself that Eva, the HR manager, shows more skin than this.

“Hey, girlie! He’s ready for you.” Rachel pops her head in, smiling at me and wiggling her brows. She was unusually chirp for it being so early in the morning.

I smile at her, “I’ll be right out.”

She winks at me and lets the door swing closed behind her.

I turn my attention back to the mirror, one more time, taking a deep breath. “You got this, Rem.”

In Joe’s office, I sat down, careful not to wrinkle my blouse. I set my arms on my lap after shaking hands with several men in the room. Each one of them noticed my skirt before anything else. The feeling of being stared at and scanned with hungry eyes got old, very fast, but I sucked it up and turned on the charm.

“You finally got your cast taken off, I see.” The director of our magazine said.

“I sure did.” I smized, crossing my legs. I smoothed out my skirt in order to keep some of my integrity.

Out of the corner of my eye, another man opened the door to Joe’s office, letting himself in. “Sorry I’m late, I was saying hello to your lovely receptionist.” He sat down across from me, next to the others.

“We were just about to get started, no worries.” Joe greeted him.

My heart sunk into my stomach, making my head hurt and my chest burn. I had seen this man before, at another conference event, a month ago.

As Joe began his speech, the exact same one as every other year, I zoned out. My mind began to race, taking me back to last month, when I let this man get away with way too much.

“Pardon my reach, Miss…” A tall, well dressed, thirty-something year old guy, leaned over to grab a coffee cup from the basket on the counter.

I was at an innovations conference downtown, assisting Rachel for her big presentation.

“I’m Remy, and it’s no problem.” I smiled, getting out of his way. I looked around, no Rachel in sight to save me from another long, boring interaction.

“I’ve never seen you at one of these things before… Who do you work for?” He poured coffee into the styrofoam cup that he insisted in reaching over for. Even though there were plenty, three steps away to his right.

“Variety magazine. I’m Rachel’s assistant.” I replied, sipping some tea out of mine.

“Oh, that’s funny, I work for Variety as well.” He laughed, “I’m at the corporate office in upstate New York.”

I fake laughed, “What a small world!” I figured I’d try and impress him. Rachel had spent the entire drive down here telling me about all the higher ups that would report back to the magazine and push the budget for our projects.

I began to tell him about Rachel and I’s project, but he didn’t care. His eyes wandered to my cleavage as I wasted my breath.

So instead, I flashed a smile and listened to him talk about how long he’s worked for Variety, and how his colleagues always told him the corporate branches in California had the prettiest girls. I began to get uncomfortable, wanting to end the conversation, as I could tell where it was headed.

I cringed, thinking of an exit strategy.

“Well, you’ll have to tell me if that’s true, since you’re here visiting. If you’ll excuse me-“ I tried to leave, seeing as most of the people were making their way back to the main room after our lunch break.

He stepped in my way, “I know a lot of guys who’d love to have you as an assistant over on the east coast.”

I laughed uncomfortably, looking at the door.

He held a hand out, stopping me, “You know, if you ever want a job as more than just an assistant…”

“Oh, I do enjoy my job, here in LA, very much. I’m loyal to my-“

He put a hand on my lower back, a little too close for comfort. “Come with me, I’d like to give you my card, in case you change your mind. I’d also like to get your portfolio, you know, to help with Rachel’s project…”

He guided me, with that hand, toward an empty lobby area, inside an office, where he had left his suitcase. I hesitated to enter, watching him search through his things.

He pulled out his card and handed it to me, so I reached in my bag to hand him a copy of our business model.

As I pulled it out, he closed the door behind him. I tried not to overreact, but truly, I wanted to hide behind the desk. I looked at his business card, seeing that I was in the same room as the CFO of Variety Magazine. If anyone could up our budget, it would be him.

So I did what Rachel said, and turned on the charm.

I stood there, smiling at him, with the papers in my hands. “Thank you, I hope you find our proposal intriguing.”

“I’m sure I will.” He approached me, positioning himself behind me, reading it over his shoulder.

I tensed up as he placed his hands on my waist.

“We should probably get back.” An uncomfortable laugh came out for lack of a better phrase.

This next part happened all so fast, I could barely react.

He trailed his hand down to my ass, grabbing the material on my mini skirt, and slightly lifting it as he pressed his body against mine.

“Aw, come on, you know it’s boring in there.” He spoke, over my shoulder, his hot breath hitting my neck.

I walked towards the door, clearing my throat. “I’m gonna go. Thank you… for your time.” I drew the line.

“Alright. A few of my buddies are getting drinks after this, if you and the red head want to join us.” He smiled, his blindingly white teeth disturbing me.

I nodded, unable to say anything else, and left the room, fast walking over to the main conference area.

On the car ride back to our office, Rachel advised me never to say anything to anyone about it. That it’s just business, and if I made a big deal out of it, they’d fire me.

Joe wrapped up his speech, pulling up my numbers on a spreadsheet for everyone to see, and beaming it up to the large screen.

The spaces between my knees began to sweat, along with my palms and underarms. “Can I be excused for a moment, I’ll be right back.” I stood up, giving them a rigid smile.

“Sure.” Joe nodded.

I left the office, walking to the women’s restroom and leaning over the sink, trying not to freak out. My heart rate increased, and my anxiety began to set in. I began to breathe slowly to try to combat the oncoming panic attack, but it was already too late.

“Hey, what happened? I saw you run in here.” Rachel came in, closing the door behind her. She watched me breathe in and out, rapidly.

“Rachel, it’s that- That guy. From the conference. He’s here, and for some reason I-“ I closed my eyes, trying to form a sentence, but for the life of me, I couldn’t.

“Okay, Remy, just try to calm down.” She put a hand on my back, causing my fight or flight to activate.

“Get off of me!” I backed up against the wall, not wanting to feel anyone’s hands on me.

“Okay, okay.” She quickly left the restroom, leaving me in there by myself.

I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall and slid down onto the floor. The room felt like it was closing in on me, making me feel claustrophobic. I breathed in and out, holding a hand over my heart, trying not to cry.

Quickly, Rachel came back into the bathroom holding a cup of ice from the break-room freezer. “Here, Remy, grab some ice in your hands.” She dropped some ice cubes into my palms, shutting them for me, and sitting in front of my panicked body.

“Squeeze, focus on melting the ice.” She nodded, breathing slow, in efforts to get me to calm down.

I did as she said, and after some time, I finished out the cup of ice. My heart didn’t feel like it was beating out of my chest anymore, and the cloud of impending doom slowly went away.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked.

I nodded, once I felt better. “Yeah.”

“I get them too.” She said, her expression gloomy.

When she said that, I realized, Rachel was used to this. The unsolicited touches, the constant harassment, the gross comments… That’s why she had to turn it into a game.

I realized, I didn’t want that to be me.

I stood up and looked in the mirror. Some days I barely recognized my reflection. I thought about what Billie had said to me, countless times, crying out for me to realize I’m selling myself out. Exploiting myself for recognition, and barely any of it, at that.

I straightened my blouse, fixed my skirt, and chewed on some ice, trying to get my sweating under control.

“I can’t do this, Rachel.”

“You can, you’re gonna go back in there, and your hard work is going to pay off.” Rachel insisted. It felt like Rachel had told herself that many times. Just like I have.

I nodded, giving her a hug, feeling sorry for Rachel, not wanting to imagine what all she’s been through. I wondered if that’s why she interviewed here and started working with us. Had she tried to report her previous boss, and gotten fired over it?

“Go get what you want, girl.” She squeezed my hand.

I calmly walked back into Joe’s office, watching him and the rest of the corporate bodies talk, as I sat down.

“Alright, now that you’re back, I’d like to introduce you to the CFO of our company, and my good friend, Chad Stark.” Joe said.

He reached over to shake my hand, acting like we had never met before. I shook his hand, wanting to die.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss…”

“Lovelace.” I said, my voice fragile.

“Before we continue, I wanna let you know how much we appreciate you here in the office.” He handed me a stupid Visa gift card, like he did every single year.

“Thank you, Joe.” I nodded, accepting the card, hoping this meeting would soon end.

“I’d also like to introduce you, Remy, to the rest of the team as Editor in Chief for our new column. You’ll have your own assistant writers and be in charge of your own team.”

My jaw dropped.

“In addition to that, you’ll receive a significant raise, that comes with a yearly bonus of $11,000.”

“I don’t know what to say, Joe, I-“

“You’ll also be spending a lot of your time back and forth between here, and our New York City corporate office, alongside Chad here.” He gestured to the pig sitting next to him.

I gripped onto the arm rest, that overwhelming feeling coming back.

“You’ll need to clear your schedule for the next year, or so. There’s a lot to map out as editor in chief. I let HR know to take care of that.”

“But, HR already approved my time off requests in March. Surely they’ll honor that, right?” I asked, the men around Joe interchanging looks.

“Not if you want to run a column.” Joe laughed.

Chad intervened, “Besides, you’ll be with me in New York, training your new editors at our branch.” He smiled that devious smile that gave me nightmares, with his intensely white, perfect teeth. “You’ll have a condo up there, fully furnished and paid by us, to accommodate for the back and forth.”

I sat still, my eyes darting to and from each person that spoke in front of me.

I finally got what I wanted. I should be happy, ecstatic… But really, I just wanted to rip all of their faces off.

I got the position I wanted, but at what cost? Ruining my relationship with my best friend, neglecting myself, going back and forth between NYC…

My favorite city in the entire world. I should be grateful.

But I’m not. All of this, because some piece of shit got away with too much. A hush prize…

“What do you think, Remy? Do you have what it takes to-“

“Joe, I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been asking for this for years. Since you started here as an intern.” He looked flabbergasted. The men around him looking at each other, whispering amongst themselves.

“I quit.” I said, swallowing hard. My heart was beating out of my chest.

“You what?!” He stood up.

“Joe, I quit!” I said, firmly. There was no going back now. He looked beside himself, slowly sitting back down as I stood tall.

“I asked for this position for so long, and each time you strung me along, and made me give up so much- I haven’t had an actual day off in 3 years, Joe.”

“That’s not true, you were off for a week in December!”

“That’s because I was recovering from my car accident, and even then, I still worked from home for the rest of the month! I’m done! The shit I’ve had to do just for you assholes to listen to my ideas…” I began to walk towards the door.

I looked at Chad, then at Joe again, “I wish you’d seen I was good enough for the role sooner.”

I walked out, emotionless, going to my office and clearing out my things as fast as I could.

“Woah, what happened?” Rachel walked in, seeing me pack my stuff up.

“I quit, Rach. I can’t do shit that anymore.” I shook my head, taking all my belongings, unplugging my laptop, and putting everything in my bag.

Rachel stopped me, pulling me into a hug. She said nothing, but it spoke volumes.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for all the opportunities you got me.” I said, patting her back.

She held me so genuinely, knowing exactly how I feel.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. Good luck, Rem.” She pulled away, her eyes blinking away tears before they fall.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” I smiled at her, sincerely.

She nodded, “Don’t be a stranger.”

I left the building with all of my things, got in the car, and raced home. Then, a sudden fear of uncertainty started to set in. What am I going to do now?

[driedposies]

"My little Nepenthe," {CHAPTER SIX: You're Lost At Sea, Then I'll Command Your Boat To Me}

Chapter summary: The High Lord of the Autumn Court calls for a family dinner. Eris learns the art of vulnerability.

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual content in other chapters (18+ only!), violence, bodily injury, torture, character death.

Chapter lyric: "Mariners Apartment Complex" by Lana Del Rey

Word count: 4k

As another week ends, a routine starts to settle into your life. You’d rise with the morning sun, your ladies’ maids appearing within the hour with hot breakfast and current gossip chirping between them—an unmarried Lady hiding a bump, a maid caught with a kitchen hand, someone forgetting the High Lord’s bitter tea. Your ladies will press and paint you to be presentable to the court before your escort leads you to whatever entertainment has been planned for you. Between public appearances, you devoured Autumn novelas and abbreviated histories.

Eris was your only constant. Letters in the middle of the night when nightmares crippled your mind, guiding you through forests with his pack of hounds in an attempt to control your gifts, dancing you until blisters formed at nightly revels. 

At week's end, you’ll be left in a drawing room with Azriel, with the raven perched in waiting. He’d tell you of your sisters and how Nyx is already starting to teeth. You’d tell him of promenades and revels, finding startling ease in expressing genuine happiness with your current position—ignoring the silent looks Azriel gave you. 

You wondered if he could see through you—how you’ve come alive in the place you’ve been taught to despise. 

As the third week closes, Eris finally divulges how your scheme is to play out. 

‘My Father expects a proposal by Summer Solstice to have a wedding by the Autumn equinox.’

The note came as you reached the twenty-third chapter of Autumn’s anecdotes—a war on the seasons. 

‘Summer Solstice is in four weeks.’

Your heart lurches, anxious now that a clock has been forced on this plot, especially since no solid plan is in the works. Azriel’s shadows have yet to breach Beron’s study, let alone smuggle incriminating documents to prove the need for his execution. 

‘Which means we’ll need a new plan.’

‘I’m assuming you already have one in mind.’

‘I do. But it involves more involvement from you. Something that may put you in a precarious situation.’

‘Am I not already in a precarious situation?’

Eris’s implication stoked curiosity rather than fear for whatever he had in mind. By all accounts, you have little worry about foul play regarding Eris. And if he truly was this good at masking ill intent, he ought to prepare for the Night Court’s wrath.

‘I mean to suggest goading my Father into threatening your life. Something that would consequently force my hand.’

‘I trust you, Eris.’

You meant all four words. They so easily slipped from your quill that you hardly had the time to process the implications. The betrayal they implied. That the foreign lands you harboured in now no longer felt so terrifying—that you began to accept them as your own. That you began to accept Eris; both his comforts and his monstrous sides. 

Resting your palm over the ashen rune, you surprise yourself at the peace you feel at this new revelation.  

Staring at the rune, you await Eris’s reply. Perhaps something affirming or maybe playfully sarcastic, knowing him. A minute turns into two and then into ten. You couldn’t help but start reassessing yourself—had you made a mistake or crossed a boundary? Surely asserting trust, a thing Eris was vying for, was not all it took to push him away again. 

When a note reappears, you jump forward. 

‘My Father has requested our audience for this evening's supper. Be prepared before sundown.’

All relief leaves your system, replaced by ice cold dread. Picking up your indiscretions, you drop them in your hearth, watching as the evidence turns to ash.

Your ladies' maids worked silently and diligently for the first time since your arrival into Autumn. It hardly eased your heart that threatened to burst through your ribs, the itch beneath your skin returning with a ferocity, responding negatively to your anxiety. You knew that this was inevitable—meeting with Beron without anyone but Eris as a shield—but knowing hardly made it easier. 

The three pixies dressed you in the common conservative Autumn cuts and colours meant to mute and draw the least attention. Long chiffon sleeves, high collar, skirts below the ankle. It was all purposeful the way you’re being dressed, that you’re meant to be a mere accessory, silent and pretty to behold.

“Our Lord is waiting for you in the hall,” Merryweather whispers into your ear, and you give a small nod of understanding.

With a final look over and a faint spritz of lavender oil, you were sent out of your chambers to meet Eris—your dinner escort. A dinner that felt more like an interrogation or death sentence, by the way Eris stood wound tight—ready to snap like a taught string. 

Sliding your arm into Eris’s started to feel second nature, and at this moment, you suppose this was the first time you garnered comfort in his hold. 

Eris begins to guide you in the opposite direction you’re usually led towards, and something in your chest collapses as instincts start to send adrenaline through your bloodstream. 

“Breathe, dear,” Eris murmurs as you turn down another corridor, the shadows on the walls starting to look like deformed monsters. “I can hear your heart. Don’t give my Father the satisfaction of seeing your fear.”

You let out a short exhale. “How delightful,” you sarcastically retort, begrudgingly taking Eris’s advice—focus on regulating your breathing and heart rate. 

Eris was at your side, and he will not let you burn. Not when you both were so close. 

By the guards that posed at statues by a closed doorway, you knew you had arrived at the High Lord of Autumn’s dining room. Before the doors yawn open, you share a final look with Eris. Through the little cracks in his mask, you could almost see his fear. 

“Ah, so nice the lovely couple could join us this evening.”

Beron’s drawl was the first thing to greet you; an ice cold claw that dragged down your spine. 

Taking a swift examination of the room—you’re surprised at how disarmingly intimate it all was. Just Beron and the Lady Autumn, Aurelia, sat at the table full of roasted meats and vegetables. 

“Please,” Beron beckons with a deft hand, not even rising from his seat to formally welcome you both. “It has been… a while since we’ve had a small family meal.”

Eris directs you to the seat on his left, purposefully putting himself between you and his Father at the head of the table. You share a quick and fleeting smile with Aurelia before she starts staring at her lap. 

“Now,” Beron drawls, dismissing any waiting maids that lingered in the room, only continuing when the door clicked shut with a foreboding snap. “Tell me about yourself, Lady Archeron,” he states, hardly a question—a command. 

“Oh,” you sigh, letting out a slightly nervous laugh that cut through the clink of cutlery. Beron was the only one eating; your stomach was full of nervous spiders, and by Aurelia’s fidgeting and Eris’s stiff posture, you could safely assume they were suffering your same afflictions. 

“There’s not much to say,” you finally stammer out, your eyes occasionally looking to Eris for answers. Unfortunately, you could not read minds like Rhys. “Before I was Made, there wasn’t much to my life. After my Mother’s passing, my family—um—weren’t doing so well. My Father couldn’t handle the grief.”

Your nails dig into your palms, that familiar itch crawling up your skin with a warning flare. Eris lays a hand on your thigh and you swallow thickly. 

Beron relaxes back in his chair, an amused simper pulling across his lips. “I’ve heard the tales of your sister before she went beyond the Wall,” he muses, lifting his cup of wine. “How she was forced to be the one to provide for your family.”

Your back involuntarily straightens out, the seed of shame growing with each taunt. “I tried to help with the hunting a few times,” you admit softly. “Wasn’t very good at aiming. Nor at the… killing.”

“Not a killer, are you?” Beron repeats before his attention deviates to his eldest son. “I only ever imagined my son to be drawn to someone like himself.”

A tense silence follows, something heavy in the air as Beron and Eris stare at each other. After a few more beats, Beron was grinning again, taking a long sip of wine. 

“And what of your… gifts,” Beron motions to you, the unease around the dining table reaching a peak. 

Eris’s hand tightens just a fraction, and you knew it was a silent warning—this is what you were called here for. Beron had lost out on having Morrigan under his thumb, and now, it was time to assess his potential for more power. He would already have enough purely through your familial bonds, but Beron’s eyes were green with greed.

“That’s a work in progress,” Eris speaks for you, and something in your chest settles. 

Beron raises an accusing brow. “A work in progress?” He questions, tone patronising and belittling. 

Eris squares his shoulders and meets his Father’s fire with his own. “Just a small matter of control. But, rest assured, I wouldn’t choose a weak female to continue the Autumn Court legacy.”

It was dehumanising and insulting, just as it was moving the pressure off of you. You could only give a soft smile, a perfected mask of neutral adoration. 

Beron hums and sets his cup down. “I can help with that,” he offers, his lips curling into something sordid. “Seeing how well I shaped you, Eris.”

“No,” Eris’s voice came out sharp and assertive—too assertive. 

Beron cocks his head to the side, his expression falling into something grave. “No?” He repeats back. 

You find Eris’s hand and fold it into yours, forcing his tremoring hand steady. 

“You don’t need to trouble yourself with such matters,” Eris adds in an attempt to placate Beron’s ignited rage. 

Beron only stares in response, having no need to say another word. The damage was done.

Aurelia’s expression was close to something mournful. 

You didn’t sleep that night. Even on your worst evenings, your nightmares still managed to claw into your mind and pull you under. 

But tonight, something tormented you, keeping you on a precept of adrenaline. Not even the flames in the bedside hearth could calm your rapid heart, nor the lulling sound of rain beating the earth. 

The shadows on the walls came alive—shapes of trees yawning wide into gnarled beasts. You felt paralysed under the duvets and sheets, attempting to wade through the smog of pure fear. 

You reach a trembling hand to your chest, and the life beneath squirmed and writhed to attention. It was something familiar yet utterly terrifying borne somewhere deep in your soul. And it was in pain, and you didn’t know how to resolve it. 

Your thoughts tilt towards your desk across the room, and you’re reminded of Eris. 

You didn’t get to talk to him after the dinner, as Karl returned you to your chambers while he remained with his Father. Not even leaving a note for you to find. 

You’re told you don’t have anything to attend to on your schedule in the morning. For some reason, you imagined that meant your day would be with Eris—taking you to his cottage to continue the search for your powers. 

When you’re brought your afternoon tea, you resign yourself to the fact that Eris wasn’t coming to fetch you. You’d tell yourself you didn’t mind spending your day reading and taking your meals alone.

As the silence stretched to two—and then three days—passiveness turned into unfounded worry. There was a space in your chest that began to grow, fissures filling with invisible sadness. It was almost distressing, the constant waves that ebbed and flowed, like fragments of something you weren’t meant to bear slipping through. 

On the fourth day, you had enough. You wouldn’t debase yourself again by writing another letter to Eris—he clearly was in no mood to respond. A first for the arrogant male, as he was always so full of words. 

After being dressed and powdered by your ladies’ maids, you ask for your personal guard’s audience. The moment Karl slips into your chambers, you’re turning on him with a hard look. 

“Karl,” you greet the male, noting his drawn expression. “How has your morning been?” You ask, starting with needless pleasantries. 

Karl raises a suspicious brow. “Well, my Lady,” he replies, slow and questioning. 

You nod as you stride towards him. “I wish to be taken to Eris. It’s been close to a week since we’ve last properly spoken,” you request, watching Karl’s posture tense and brace. “Is he well?” You then decide to try, careful with your accusing tone. 

Karl hides a forming grimace. “My Lord is… well,” he attempts, hardly sounding convincing. “He is just busy with emissary duties.”

You level Karl with a sarcastic hum of understanding before responding with a sharp, “Too busy to respond to my letters of concern?” You inquire, much to your guard’s evident apprehension. “Has Eris changed his mind about me?”

“No,” Karl quickly cuts in, and you respond with an awaiting look. Your guard lets out a defeated sigh, shaking his head—as if submitting to the fact he’ll be punished for what he’s to admit next. “Eris… he likes to be left alone after a meeting with his Father.”

You grow confused. “Did something over dinner upset him?” You try, wanting to broach the truth of this matter. 

Karl’s expression turns grim. “Not the dinner,” he replies. “The High Lord requested a… meeting after that supper.”

“A meeting?” You repeat, the word something like a presage. It was clear more was being hidden from you—but with your life being left on the line, you weren’t about to take kindly to being left in the dark. With a huff, you pick your skirts up and start towards the door. “I wish to see him,” you affirm. 

“No, my Lady, that won’t be a good idea,” Karl tries, striding after you. 

“And why not?” You ask, turning back on the guard. “What aren't you telling me?”

Karl lets out a frustrated sound. “The Lord doesn’t want to see you,” he states, firm and cutting. 

You don’t allow the words to hurt you; instead, you continue into the hall. “If you won’t direct me, I shall find someone who will,” you call back, taking a random direction down the left hall. 

You hear Karl flounder and curse behind you before starting a quick pace to catch up. “You are too stubborn,” he grumbles, something close to a begrudging compliment. “Fine, I shall take you,” Karl finally acquiesces, pausing you in your tracks. “But do not expect him to let you in. Not even his most trusted staff are allowed in.” 

The walk was brisk as it was silent. The few maids and guards you pass by give feline glances, the curious wonder that makes your skin prickle uncomfortably. As you exit the guest wing, the walls visibly age and wither, some of the mosaics charred and burnt—left without mending. 

“Here,” Karl mutters under his breath, gesturing to a door at the end of the hallway. “I’m not permitted past this point without explicit concession.”

Turning to look up at Karl, you give a wavered smile. “Thank you, Karl,” you affirm before returning your sights to the door leading to Eris’s chambers. 

Each step closer to that doorway burned something deep within your chest, attempting to twist away before it could be truly discovered. It felt colder here, somehow, your instincts adamantly rejecting further passage. The lingering smoke invaded your senses before the scent of something burning caught in your throat—something you’ve only smelt once, and that was near the battle against Hybern; charred flesh and cooking blood.  

Something was wrong. With renewed haste, you reach Eris’s door, knocking against the wood with three sharp raps. 

“Eris,” you call out, almost unsure, but the inexplicable urge to tear down the door to see if Eris is alive was ripping through you. 

No one answers you, and you release a long exhale. A shadow moves beneath the gap of the door. Resolve squares your shoulders, and you knock again, this time with more insistence.  

“Eris,” you urge again, watching as the shadow pauses. “I know you’re there. Don’t continue to make me look like a fool, talking to a door. It wouldn’t look proper to any passing maid.”

The door rips from you, and out appears Eris. You startle for a moment, lurching at the sight in front of you. 

Eris stood gaunt and drawn, his life fire smothered into mere whispered embers. His usually perfected hair was close to matted, loose curls clinging to sweat against his brow, clothes a similar rumpled mess—the same clothes from dinner four nights ago. And—oh, by the Mother—dried blood and blister fluid were a tacked thick around slow-healing burns down his front. 

Words were stolen from you, leaving you breathless as trembling hands returned to your sides. “Eris,” you mutter again, mollified into a state of shock. 

“What?” Eris’s voice was a raw snap, hackles raised like an injured fox cornered. “What do you want now, hm?”

You meet Eris’s eyes, and you find terrified anger. You weren’t meant to see this—weren’t meant to come this close to this part of him. But he was the one to open the door. 

“What did he do to you?” You ask, the horror plain in your features, and it made Eris all the more disarmed. 

Eris scoffs and then winces. “You’re not allowed here,” he states, looking over your head to find the cause of this transgression, gaze blazing when he likely finds Karl at the start of the hall. 

“You wouldn’t respond to my letters,” you say, pulling Eris’s attention back to you. “I got—worried,” you tried. 

Eris's lips curl into a scowl. “Happy to know my reason for my absence?” He asks, purposeful in his condescension, enough to draw guilt to your surface. “Now, give me some fucking peace.”

Before Eris could shove you out, you stopped the door with a hand. “Don’t,” you start, meeting his fire with your own. “Let me—let me help you, Eris. Please,” you plead, trying to make Eris see reason.

“And would you be able to help me?” Eris drawls back, baring his fangs the moment you got too close.

You force your back to straighten before raising your free hand—gesturing your head to the healing wounds mottling your skin. “I know enough,” you affirm, catching the way Eris softens a mere fraction. “Please, just let me help you,” you continue, worming your way through his persistent walls. “I trust you—you can do the same in me.” 

Something in Eris collapses, allowing his pain to show through the fractures of his mask of anger and malevolence. He pulls from the doorway like a phantom, a silent admission to enter. 

You follow after him, taking a moment to scan the inside of his chambers. It was similar to your own, just larger and more lived in. Bloodied towels were discarded by the wash basin, bed sheets unmade and stained, and trays of half-eaten food were left discarded by the door. 

Lavender scented candles burned away the stench of burnt flesh. 

Eris collapses on the lounge by the fireplace, shrugging off the tarnished chemise with visible effort. 

“Here,” you try, moving over to him to help in shedding the caught piece of clothing. You’re met with a cold glare, pausing you in your tracks. 

With a heavy sigh, you instead turn your focus onto Eris’s bathside cabinets, finding a washbowl full of clean water—likely left for Eris to wash his face in the morning. With an armful of cotton pieces, you return to Eris’s side. Placing the washbowl on the small side table atop a discarded bunch of letters, you take a hesitant seat on the edge of the lounge, hip pressing into his thigh.

You meet Eris’s watchful gaze before letting your eyes fall on the gruesome planes of his chest. The skin was raised a swollen red in disfigured shapes of hands, pieces glossy from healing blisters. You swallow thickly—feeling the upset within you grow at a frightening rate. 

“Are you going to help, or will you just stare?” Eris’s voice cuts through your delirium, shame washing over you.

“Sorry,” you grimace as you reach for a cotton pad, soaking it in the water. 

Raising back up, you lift the piece of cotton towards Eris’s collar, where dried blood and puss sat over mended flesh. You hovered, finding Eris’s eyes again—searching for permission to begin. 

Eris gives a resolute nod, lips pressed into a grim line. With a soft sigh, you start with gentle swipes, careful to avoid any boils to not further aggravate the wounds—not wishing to inflict any more agony Eris was still suffering from. You worked downward, from his collarbones to the slope of his abdomen, tossing used pads into the fire to eat away. 

“This was because me, isn’t it?” You murmur after a long blanket of silence, brows drawn in concerntration—and guilt. 

Eris’s chest dips with a long exhale before laying a purposeful hand against your thigh to give a familiar squeeze. “It was no one’s fault but my own,” Eris rasps, much to your adamant disproval.

“This isn’t your fault, Eris,” you state, voice wavered yet certain. “This is your Father’s hand,” you continue, shaking your head, “Beron. That—he is no Father.”

You could feel your face burn when Eris released a shaken chuckle, loose and dispassionate. “He is mine,” Eris bitterly affirms, much to your bemusement. 

“I do not understand you,” you mutter, watching as a droplet of water connects freckles into a constellation. “How you’ve managed to stay… strong, for so long.”

Eris quietens for a moment as you toss another cotton pad into the hearth. “I suppose the monster deep inside wishes to survive,” he replies, his tone low with an undercurrent of self-deprecation.

You pause your ministrations to find Eris’s eyes on you. “You’re not a monster, Eris,” you aver, placing a hand over his before he could argue. “I know that because of all of this—risking your life to remove your Father for the greater good of Prythian. Not once, not even an implication, was all of this towards you getting power. A monster would be killing his Father for a throne. A… a better person would be risking himself to get rid of someone who threatens thousands of innocents,” you pause your outpouring to squeeze his hand. “You may not see it, Eris, but I do. I see you.”

Eris’s expression was agape, battling the contradictions of fear and comfort of your words. Breaking the growing tension from his burning stare, you return your gaze to your work. 

“I suppose,” Eris begins, grasping for words to fill the void, “occasionally, I believe I am what I posture to be,” he admits, audibly swallowing, as if the words were vacuumed from his throat. Tilting back, Eris thumps his head against the cushioned armrest. “I fear the day disgust shifts to pleasure.”

“You’re not your Father,” you say, knowing where Eris’s mind was leading.

Eris lets out a humourless laugh before sighing, running a hand down his face. “I need to get out of this Court—I’m starting to lose my head,” he groans, angling his head in your direction as a thought comes. “Suppose Summer Court. Beautiful as it nears its Solstice,” Eris claims, tone an obvious proposition. 

“What are you planning now?” You ask, almost amused at Eris’s attempts at goading. 

“Summer is known for their operettas,” Eris adds, and you begin to understand, pulling a smile across your features. 

A laugh is lured out of you. “Eris,” you start, giving him a long look, “would we even be allowed to leave Autumn together?”

Eris merely rolls his head before pressing a finger to his mouth. 

“It can be our little secret.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @kk191327 @huffleruffplant @seassttar @butterfly101sworld @elisabethch82 @imma-too-many-fandoms @lreadsstuff @mrsmrx @1455fun

[venus-vault]

Friend of the Family

Mr. Reed × Fem! (Mid-20s) Reader [18+]

Synopsis: Part. 2 - (y/n) struggles through the morning after, coming to terms with the fact that the events of the night before cannot be undone...

[A/N: This part is all fluff and sweetness and more mild tension, although it is still fairly suggestive and references the actions of the previous part hence 18+. It just turned out that way, idk why.]

⚠️TW: Christmas Mentioned, Corny Lana Del Rey References, Age Gap, Sexual Tension, Making Out, General Awkwardness.

He readjusts a bit, sorting out, zipping up, and smoothing his clothes some before wrapping his arms around my half-naked body, pulling me into his chest.

"Does...what?"

"Tastes like Pepsi Cola... well...yours is actually a tad closer to diet, in my opinion, but..."

I can't help but blush, avoiding his gaze as my body goes rigid with the feeling that I may have just fucked up monumentally.

"Thank... you...?" I giggle nervously.

"Thank you, (y/n)." His arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of my head. "You are just... incredible, truly. Scholar, writer, absolutely gorgeous, and as I've just been fortunate enough to experience, quite the little minx."

I purse my lips into an awkward smile, conflicted "I uhm... I should be getting upstairs, I think..." I murmur against him.

He tilts my chin up so I have no choice but to make eye contact.

"(y/n), listen. You don't have to be so anxious about this, you know. It's perfectly natural, doing what we did. This said, I obviously won't be telling anyone, and I'd encourage the same of you."

"Well yeah, obviously..." I echo, rolling my eyes. "But... promise?"

He smiles compassionately at my request. "I promise. No one is to know. We can even pretend it never happened, if you like."

"Okay." I take a deep breath "Yeah... that works."

He runs a warm hand slowly up and down my back and I relax into his touch. "Then that's what we'll do." A beat. "Starting when, exactly?"

"In a minute?" I half-plead, resting my forehead against his chest. Mr. Reed chuckles, holding me a bit tighter.

"Fine. In exactly one minute I'll expect you to shimmy those jeans back on and get upstairs, then."

I nod and there is a moment of silence. Of peace.

"Fifty-nine...Fifty-eight...Fifty-seven-"

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going." I toss an annoyed eye roll in his direction as I pry my body off the couch.

Discarding the napkin he'd placed between my legs, I slip my panties back on then tug the sweater over my head as I make my way towards the hallway, jeans in hand.

"Oh, and (y/n)?"

I glance him over my shoulder.

"It was lovely getting to chat with you tonight, I relish the opportunity to get to know you better."

"You too, Mr. Reed."

I beeline for the stairs and shuffle into my room as quickly and quietly as possible. My body is boneless as it hits the bed, and I pop my earpods in again, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. What the actual fuck? I just had sex with my dad's best friend. Great. But that didn't really just happen. It didn't. Any of it. Deep breath. It didn't really happen and it didn't mean anything if it did happen and I'm drunk, so this doesn't even count and- shit. Shit shit shit.

Eventually I fall asleep to 'Cola' on repeat, which does nothing for my conscience, and neither does waking up from a six-hour dead sleep to the line 'I pledge allegiance to my dad, for teaching me everything he knows-' with the taste of pie and alcohol stale in my mouth and Mr. Reed's dick fresh in my mind. Thanks, Lana. I yank out the earpods and put them in their stupid little case because that is enough of that.

Today is a new day. A day where I did not ever and definitely do not still want to fuck that old man.

After a shower I throw on a big, shapeless sweater and some pajama shorts to head downstairs. I'll feel better after I eat something, always do. I pad down the steps and into the hallway where I can hear Dad and Mr. Reed talking, and I silently pray there will be coffee.

I hear dad laughing loudly as I wander into the dining room.

My eyes immediately fall on Mr. Reed and he looks good first thing and there's a war in my mind because instead of thinking for half a second, I decided to err on the side of stupidity and just. ride.

He's wearing flannel pajama pants and a cotton t-shirt, and of course another cardigan, unbuttoned this time. Casual. Put-together. Sleep-tousled. That cardigan would feel divine against my bare skin, when we- no. No. There is no we.

"Ah, there she is, Ms. America!" Dad sing-songs, and I give him a tense smile.

"Agh, sorry Bug, maybe I shouldn't be so loud, you were up late, huh?"

"A little."

He beams and he doesn't know a thing and this is good. There's nothing for him to know. Nothing happened. We just... talked... and then...didn't

...talk...anymore.

"Well, Mr. Reed was just telling me about how wrong you are about that Lana girl's discography, and hey, I don't know a bar of her stuff, so I'm just gonna take his side on this one." He raises his hands in mock-defense, chuckling.

"As you should, Jono." Mr. Reed chimes in, giving dad a wink.

"(y/n), we've got breakfast prepped in the kitchen, may I fix you a plate?"

"Uhm... sure. Any coffee in there or? I'm kinda wiped still."

"Oh, of course, I'll show you where everything is. Back in a tick, J."

Dad nods and his attention is drawn to an article from one of Mr. Reed's newspapers, of which there are several laid out on the table.

He guides me to the kitchen, hand falling from my shoulder to my hip once we're out of sight. His touch is light and electric and my mind echoes the way he sounded, tasted last night. you. are. Brilliant.

I. am. fucked.

He's just being friendly. He's doing exactly what we said we'd do. It was just a night. I can do this.

We finally enter the kitchen after walking down a much too-long hallway lined in what felt like hundreds of doors and random artifacts.

Mr. Reed's kitchen is large and warm. It's all stained redwood cabinets and mosaic tile and green granite countertops, the perfect height for him to bend- No.

It's a dreamy place, ripped straight off a Pinterest board. It doesn't even feel like this room belongs to this house. "You have a beautiful home, Mr. Reed." I lean against the doorframe and watch him search through cabinets for a mug.

"Well thank you, (y/n), I'm glad you think so," A smile. "How do you take your coffee then? Cream? Sugar? Honey?"

"Squeeze of honey, splash of cream, please."

"As you wish." He pours my coffee and fixes it as instructed, handing me a teal mug with 'Hubby' printed across it in looping script. I pull back one of the stools at the kitchen island and settle in with my coffee.

"Anything else I can get you set with? Bacon there, I could cook up an egg to preference, bit of toast? Whatever you like. Name it."

He's a lot better at pretending than I am and so damn tempting. I want him for breakfast, but toast is an acceptable consolation.

"I'd love some toast. Whole grain?"

"The only kind I'll ingest," He quips "Jam?"

"Raspberry if you have it?"

"I do."

I watch him shuffle around the kitchen putting my breakfast together. There's something so attractive about his domesticity and I smile into my coffee, eyes tracking him.

Mr. Reed walks around the huge counter to hand me my plate. "And here we have it, one breakfast platter, albeit a very light one, but I suppose I did gorge you on pie last night, hm?" He smiles kindly.

He's sweet and he looks tired and I desperately want something I just cannot have.

Which won't stop me from trying.

"Mr. Reed, can I trouble you for one more thing?"

"Anything. It's no trouble (y/n), I assure you."

"Kiss me."

"Hm?" He's shocked. I like seeing him caught off guard like this.

"I... want you.... to kiss me, Mr. Reed."

"You wanted to pretend last night never happened."

"Are you gonna make me beg?"

His eyes are wide like cherry pies and his mouth hangs open but my gaze bores into his and he doesn't wait for me to change my mind. His lips are soft and warm like last night and he's even better sober, smelling of sleep and tasting like black coffee. A moan slips from me, and he pulls away first, wiping my saliva from his lower lip.

"This... (y/n), we shouldn't..." he takes a few steps back, leaning against a farmhouse sink.

"Are you sure?"

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, "No...I am not sure, but theres a certain level of risk to consider if we're...involved, and...and..."

I rise from my seat to slink towards him, and Mr. Reed doesn't move, just watches. Now I'm standing in front of him, making big doe eyes as I guide his large, warm hands under my sweater and over my hips. He draws in a sharp breath, eyes latched to mine.

"It must be so lonely... living up in the mountains, I mean...." I bring up a finger, tracing slow little patterns into his sternum as his hands glide up and down my sides of their own accord, bait taken.

"It can be. I don't mind solitude, though. I've found it's preferable to... whatever nonsense the city has to offer..."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles "Yeah. And I see what you're up to, by the way. You're not slick, seducing me in the kitchen over coffee and toast." He scoffs.

"You seduced me first." I accuse.

"Did I? Oh, do tell. What ghastly method of seduction have I hit you with in the last..." he checks his watch "twenty-five minutes to have earned this behaviour? Was it the toast? You women and your carbs, I swear..." he jokes.

"You... look like that right out of bed. First thing. Which in turn, makes me want to get into bed with you."

He smiles, charmed, and I watch his teeth sink into his lower lip as he narrows his eyes at me like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

"Alright. Fine. Maybe you are slick and maybe I am as susceptible to flattery as you seem to believe I am, (y/n). Then what?"

"Then-"

Footsteps. Suddenly something in the fridge beckons my attention as I rip myself out of Mr. Reed's embrace, dashing to the other end of the room.

"Heyo! Got breakfast sorted?" Dad saunters into the kitchen, artfully draining every ounce of sensuality from the air as he does, and I roll my eyes, wondering how he was ever deemed worthy of procreation. I pretend to care about the contents of Mr. Reed's gargantuan fridge a moment longer before closing it to face him.

"Yep, sorry dad, just got caught up chatting again." I smile "What's on the agenda?"

"Well, I was thinking of cabbing into town for a little last minute shopping if anyone wants to join, aside from that, Reed I'm sorry but I'm officially calling dibs on those last few pieces of bacon."

"All yours, Jono." He simpers, tense, eyes momentarily flitting over to me.

"By the way, I've just gotta say, I'm so glad you guys are getting along so well. I mean, I knew you would, but it just...it truly warms my heart." He seems like he might tear up which makes me want to throw up, but instead I opt for an eyeroll.

"You are such a sap." I laugh.

"And you... will not have a proper Christmas present, either of you, if I don't get down to the holiday market in time. I'm gonna grab a shower and a cab, anyone who's coming with can meet me at the front door in 20." He looks between us for a moment.

Mr. Reed is faster than I am.

"You grab presents, text me for... intel," he raises a brow at dad "as needed. I'll have the signal disruptors off in your absence, and (y/n) here will help me with cookie prep while you're out."

"I will?"

"You will." Mr. Reed gives me a look.

"Sounds like a plan, but don't you two start drinking til I get home, though!" He jests, shooting off another lethal round of finger guns as he wanders out of the room.

"We'll keep the Bailey's shelved til you return! Scout's honour!" Mr. Reed calls after him, eyes settling back on me.

"Cookie prep?" I inquire, hoisting myself up onto the kitchen island.

"Well, I do make them every year anyways, and I didn't want to leave the house, haven't done in years now. I've also come to realize that you likely don't want to leave the house, and I could use an extra pair of hands," he looks me over before his eyes lock back on mine "so I thought it would be quite genius, actually."

"And if he gets suspicious of how eager you were to be left with me?"

"Suspicious that his best friend of 43 years is secretly fucking his 24-year old daughter on a one off vacation trip? It sounds completely absurd and I'd have no issue telling him so."

"So you'd gaslight your best friend?"

"Only to preserve his emotional wellbeing, (y/n), I'm not a monster. Like it or not, our actions have landed us in something of a...moral grey area. I'm just trying to navigate that to the best of my ability, and so should you."

I roll my eyes at him. "Landed you in a moral grey area, Mr. Reed. I, am an innocent."

"Oh, very, yes. So innocent, in fact, that you've put together this little number here," he points out my tiny shorts and oversized sweater, "and decided to go about enticing me the first chance you got this morning. It's really unfair, (y/n), the way you'd tease an old man, and in my own home!" he places a hand over his heart and fakes a pout and I can't help but laugh.

"You are so dramatic!" I giggle.

He smiles, meandering over to where I'm sat on the counter cross-legged, and rests his hands on my knees.

"And you are so pretty," his hands slide up my thighs as he leans in, "I'll die if you don't kiss me."

"What?"

"Right here, I'll just die."

"Oh yeah?" I beam.

"Yeah."

Our foreheads touch and I tilt his chin upward and he kisses me like he's been starved for it. I unfold my legs, letting them drop to either side of him and Mr. Reed pulls my torso flush against his. His hands are on my ass and in my hair, my whole body is taut and melted and I want this so bad, but instead I pull away, panting, and hold up a finger.

"Cookies?" I laugh, catching my breath.

"Right, Right."

The front door shuts with a distant thud and I hop down off the counter, nipping at my toast and observing patiently as he rummages through the cabinets again, grabbing various bowls, trays and utensils and laying them out before me.

He then does the same with a slew of ingredients, and are sugar cookies really this involved?

Mr. Reed places a disc into a CD player by the sink, and the familiar opening of The Jackson 5's 'Santa Claus Is Coming To Town' fills the air around us. He takes a breath, putting on his glasses and smirking up at me before zoning in fully on the task at hand.

He's cracking eggs and pouring different quantaties of seasoning into the mixer basin and whisking, rolling out dough, and before I know it he's got thirty-six little tree shaped pieces of sugar cookie dough across two parchment-lined trays ready to be placed in the oven. Just when I think he's completely forgotten I'm here, he finally looks up.

"(y/n), would you do the honors?"

I step around the counter and pick up one tray, then the other, as Mr. Reed opens the oven for me. Cautiously placing them side by side on the middle rack, I shut the oven, and turn to him. "So, what now?"

"Now, we wait."

"How long?"

"About 10 minutes."

"And what do we do while we wait?" I look up at him, innocent and not.

"What is it you'd like us to be doing while we wait?" He squints at me and he's smiling because he knows exactly what I'd like us to be doing.

Instead of waiting for an answer, he pulls me against him, one hand on my lower back and the other in mine, fingers laced. He leads and I sway and we are dancing.

Before long we're jingle bell rocking and simply having a wonderful Christmas time and he twirls me around. We twist and shimmy and sway and swivel, completely devoid of technique or skill, like two total boomers at a discotheque. It's the first time I haven't been self-conscious of my lack of moves and I can't keep the smile from my face as he spins me into his arms and holds me in a dip.

"Where'd you learn to dance like this, Mr. Reed?" I ask, breathless.

"It used to be something of a requirement back in the day if you wanted a beautiful woman to notice you."

"Well I can't really imagine you ever going unnoticed," I giggle "you're a little too handsome for that, dont you think..." he brings me back up from the dip and his arms are taut around my waist as he leans in and- the timer goes off. I huff and I pout and he untangles from me to slip on a pair of red and green oven mitts, pull the cookies out of the oven, and relocate them to the cooling racks he's set on the counter.

"Right then," he smirks "these, are to cool for at least an hour, after which it will be time to decorate."

"This is... a lot, just for some cookies..."

"For the best, no. effort. is. too...large..." he moves the last of the cookies onto the cooling rack and meets my gaze, pointing the snowflake shaped spatula in my direction. "Take your efforts at seduction. They've not gone unnoticed, and you will be rewarded, bountifully." His eyes train on mine intently.

"Rewarded?" I echo, not quite sure what he means.

"Bountifully."

Part 3❄️

[liliesdiary]

omg I'm starving for a shane walsh fic💔💔. literally whatever goes on in your mind to write it will do just the job for me (btw i love your work smmmm)

── .✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲, 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐲.”

── .✦ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You were working at the busiest restaurant in King county, Georgia, and it was the Fourth of July when the Sheriff Deputy couldn't stop staring at you with those dangerous burning flames in his eyes and the Malt Liquor in his breath only burned you more.

── .✦ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Smut, Sex With No Protection, Age Gap, Power Play, Alcohol, Cigarettes, Dubcon, Manhandling, Car Sex, Boss Kink, Drunk Driving, Smoking & Driving, Shane is Kinda Arrogant & Cocky

── .✦ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: [2.8k]

── .✦ 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: [Pre-apocalypse, King County, Georgia]

── .✦ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 : This fic was heavily inspired by Lana Del Rey's unreleased song, You Can Be The Boss Daddy. This request has been in my inbox for months so I apologize for the long wait angel, I changed the idea for this fic several times and chose this one. I hope you enjoy it angel! (also inspired by our conversation @tinysunshine <3)

It was the Fourth of July and you were working at the busiest restaurant in King county, Georgia, especially on a day like today.

Every year your restaurant is always the busiest around the Fourth of July, as the rich ate and bought drinks while they celebrated and watched the perfect view of the annual firework display.

The sound of your white heels echoed on the floor as you attended to your customers. You were adorably dressed for the Fourth of July, sporting a red, white, and blue uniform in honor of the celebration. Your braided hair was decorated with red, white, and blue ribbons while your legs were adorned with stockings, and your skirt was decorated with cute red bows, completing the festive look.

Your face wore a fake sweet smile as you rushed to attend to the busy customers, “Yes, I'll be right there, ma’am.” You say sweetly to one customer, “Your food is nearly ready, sir.” You say to another customer, who was noticeably ruder than the last. The noise filled restaurant made you feel anxious and almost sick, you hated the Fourth of July.

You felt yourself smiling too hard as you tried to hide your distress, yet that one man was always watching you. The Sheriff Deputy. A smirk played on his lips as he savored the final sip of his malt liquor, his gaze unwavering on your short red skirt.

You try to ignore his dangerous eyes as you attended to the other customers. The way he was staring at you, fuck it made your heart race as the loud fireworks erupting in the view, the claps and gasps of the rich customers filling the busy restaurant.

He was dressed nicely in his deputy uniform, his tight uniform hugging his chest, he knew what he was doing by wearing a uniform a size smaller. You kept trying to ignore his dark presence but it was almost haunting you, as if his eyes were undressing you in front of everyone.

He took a long drag of his cigarette and called you over, his dark voice making your heart race as you head your way over there. You wore a sweet smile on your face, “Is there anything I can help you with, Deputy?”

He chuckled, “When do you get off work darling? It's the Fourth of July, you should be out there celebrating.”

“Why do you wanna know, you wanna take me out, Deputy?”, You say playfully, “I thought you were supposed to be monitoring the streets for the show.”

He took another long drag of his burning cigarette, God the smell was intoxicating. “Don’t you worry about that darling, I thought we could go for a ride before the show is over.” he remarked, gazing at you with those piercing eyes, eyes that seemed to hunger for something more.

“Drinking before driving, Deputy?” You said with a playfully shocked tone, “How could you, especially on a day like today, Deputy.”

He smirks at your playful words, “What are you going to, hm darling?” He said with a daring gaze that made your playful smile fade. “You going to call the cops on me?”

You stuttered at his daring words and shook your head, “No but I really should, Deputy.” You spoke softly, your tone almost submissive towards his haunting eyes that dominated you.

“Yeah, you really should.” He said as he scanned your body like a predator, his hungry stare eating you whole.

“Do they make you wear that every year?” He spoke with a dangerous accent that made you blush. “You look like Miss America.” He said as he stared at those red, white, and blue ribbons in your hair that made him dangerously hungry for you.

You couldn't believe how flirty he was, especially a Deputy as handsome as him. The fire in his eyes grew more hungry for you, the flames dancing like the fireworks erupting behind him. You could almost feel his dangerous flames burning you. You tried to be strong but you lost it.

His flirtatious comment made your silly heart skip a beat as the red and blue fireworks erupted so loudly behind you two. “I'll let you take a ride with Miss America if you let me finish my shift.” You replied with a sultry tone that made him smirk.

“Well serve me my usual and I'll be waiting outside darling.” He spoke with those dark eyes, he stared at your braided hair with ribbons once again as if he was thinking about pulling them. You responded with a flustered nod and left to get his usual, a glass of Malt Liquor.

The sound of your heels echoed against the floor as you turned, drawing his gaze to the sight of your plump ass in that dangerously short skirt.

You felt his stare upon your skirt and felt like you were playing it dangerous with the deputy. Your heart raced as you poured him a glass of the dark alcohol, the thought of being alone with him in his deputy car made your face red.

You knew it was dangerous, the loud bangs of the red fireworks erupting only making your head race with more dangerous thoughts about the older man.

It'll just be a ride. You thought to yourself.

An innocent ride with the drunk deputy who has a reputation of a whore isn't bad, right?

You snapped out of your racing thoughts as you were interrupted with another loud firework only to realize you overfilled his drink. You cursed under your breath and tried to clear your head, cleaning the spilled mess and turning back to the man that was making a mess of you without even trying.

You walk back to him, your white heels clicking against the floor loudly with each step. “Here's your drink, sir.” You spoke softly as you served him, his dark eyes checking out your arch as you bent over.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”, he said as he stood up from his chair, using your waist to get up, “I'll be waiting for you outside.” he whispered with a dark tone that made your heart stop. His calloused fingers slightly gripped your waist as he grabbed his drink from behind you, his bulge pressing against your back.

“Don't make me wait too long.” He said with a commanding tone, his fingers slightly touching your back as he slipped the tip in your pocket. His Malt Liquor breath made you feel so fucking intoxicated as his hands glazed your ass.

Fuck, he was so hot. He knew what he was doing to you with that dark voice of his.

He took a sip of his alcohol and smirked at your flustered face, “And leave the ribbons in your hair, I like ‘em.” He said with a dangerous smirk.

Half an hour had passed, and your shift was complete. You hurriedly removed your uniform, feeling a wave of relief wash over your legs as you peeled off the tight stockings and heels. Yet, you left the ribbons in your hair, just as the older man had instructed.

You could feel your cunt dripping with arousal as you fixed your ribbons, knowing that the deputy liked them made you flustered.

You put on your regular clothes, a white top with the American flag on it that hugged your curves and jean shorts with red and blue gems along the hem. You rush to put on your shoes, the sound of fireworks echoing in the distance as the show continues, nearly causing you to stumble.

As you clocked out of your shift and made your way toward the door, darkness began to envelop the surroundings. The vibrant fireworks burst into the night sky, illuminating it with an array of colors; it was fucking beautiful. The red and blue lights danced in your star-struck eyes, holding your gaze captive as you remained amazed by the festive fireworks.

Then your star-struck gaze was interrupted by a honk, “Get in, darling, we're missing the show.” The deputy said as he shined the bright car lights on you.

You hurried towards the car as the lights shined too bright on you, blushing as you got in the passenger seat of the deputy's car.

The car reeked of cigarettes and malt liquor, just as you expected. He looked at the ribbons that remained in your hair and smirked, he loved that you listened to him. He took another long drag from his cigarette, then, with his one veiny hand resting on the steering wheel, he passed it to you.

“You smoke, Darling?” He asked as exhaled the smoke from his mouth. You nod your head gently as you take a hit of his cigarette, the taste of his lips still lingered on it, “I have to, it's the only way I can get through the day sometimes.

“Ah, I feel you.” He responded with a light hearted tone as he drove out of the busy parking lot, the cars filled up the streets as people watched the fireworks. He cursed under his breath as he tried to exit, turning on his police sirens to move people out of the way.

You felt like a passenger princess as he activated the sirens, the bustling crowd parting to make way for the deputy and you. God, This fourth of July is starting to feel like a movie.

You took another hit of the cigarette as you looked up at the beautiful fireworks, the vibrant lights shining everywhere in the night sky. “I got a perfect spot for us, Darling.”, he said as he put his calloused hand on your exposed thigh, “It'll make you remember this night.”

He gently squeezed your thigh, almost possessively. Your heart fluttered as his fingers caressed you, the fireworks bursting in the background, making everything feel so dreamy. You close your eyes and you could still see the vibrant colors flashing. The sounds of the sirens and the loud fireworks filled your heart with adrenaline.

Then suddenly, you feel his calloused hand move closer to your clothed cunt. You could feel your heart racing and your breathing pace faster as his fingers moved closer to the hem of your shorts.

You let out a soft gasp that could barely be heard as he gently cupped your clothed part, his fingering feeling your drenched panties through your shorts.

You try to move his hand away but he stops you, “It's okay, Darling. Just enjoy yourself, you don't want to say no to a deputy, do you, hun?” He threatened darkly, using his power to get what he wanted.

You slightly trembled as you could feel his fingers taking off your shorts. You close your eyes and submissively part your legs for him, desperately wanting to feel his dangerous touch despite knowing better. You knew it was wrong but you couldn't help it.

“That's it, just let yourself feel good.” He said as he touched your damp panties, his experienced fingers already finding your clit and gently caressing it.

Fuck, he was so experienced. You couldn't hold back your soft moans as he rubbed your clit so gently, and with so much experience. You kept your eyes closed as he touched you, exhaling smoke from the burning cigarette as you moaned.

You then feel him stop, you almost whined as he took his fingers away and parked the car. You opened your eyes and saw that stupid drunk smirk that made you feel weak.

“Did it feel that good, sweetheart?” He asked with that drunk smirk that made you roll your eyes, “We're here already.”

The view was breathtaking; the red, white, and blue fireworks illuminated the night sky as you sat parked in a secluded field. The brilliant stars twinkled against the dark canvas above, harmonizing with the vibrant bursts of color, creating a scene that felt truly dreamlike.

“It looks like a dream.” you whisper softly, your eyes sparkling with wonder as the vibrant colors of the fireworks dance in their depths.

His eyes stared at your wonder-like gaze, his breathing getting heavier as he kept staring at you, almost as if he was lost in the depths of your wonder.

You then feel his hand on your chin, gently moving your gaze towards him, “Your eyes are so beautiful, darling” He spoke gently, his deep soft voice making your gaze lower to his drunk lips. You wanted to kiss him so badly.

He took the cigarette away and moved closer, his drunk lips crashing onto yours messily as he overpowered you. The fire in his eyes engulfed you as the liquor on his lips swallowed you. The taste of the burning cigarette lingered on both of your tongues lingered with the taste of the fourth of July.

“You taste so good.” He groaned as he hungrily kissed you, holding your head as he starved for more. Your heart fluttered dangerously as you couldn't resist. Please don't let this stop.

You feel yourself yearning for him, craving more of his drunk touches as you bucked your hips towards him. He pulled your damp panties off, throwing them to the floor. He unbuckled your seatbelt and roughly pulled you over to his seat, almost manhandling you as he overpowered you.

His rough hands felt so good along your soft skin as he gripped your waist. He forced you down on his jean covered bulge, your wet cunt throbbing against his crotch.

“Fuck darling, you're so wet for me. I could feel your cunt throbbing like a bitch in heat.” He said with a cocky tone that made your legs weak. He then unbuckled his jeans and pulled his large member out, his cock was so thick and veiny, it made your cunt drip with arousal.

“Ride me.” He commanded darkly as he took a hit of his burning cigarette.

“With no protection?” You asked as you were flustered, almost stuttering.

“You heard me darling.” He said, a wicked smirk playing on his lips, causing your heart to race with a mix of excitement and danger. “I want to feel your wet cunt without anything in the way. Now are you going to shut up and ride me?”

His rough tone made you flustered and shamefully, even more wet. “Yes sir.” You say almost too submissively. His eyes grew more with hunger as he heard your submissive yes.

You position yourself on his big cock, trying to take it in your drenched cunt so obediently. You bit your soft lip as his big cock stretched your hole, it felt so fucking huge, more than you could ever imagine.

“Good girl, listening to your deputy.” He praised you as he grabbed your waist roughly and shoved his cock deeper into your cunt, making you whimper.

The booming fireworks in the background startled you as you clung to him, his big cock causing you to feel so full. He took another hit of his cigarette as he watched you ride him. He groaned as you bounced on his cock, he could feel the tip of his member hitting your cervix.

You moaned in his ear as you held onto the deputy, his cock filling you up so well. It was bigger than anything you've had. You could feel yourself shaking as you struggled to take his cock.

“Aw, are you struggling to take my cock, sweetheart?” He mockingly asked, “Let me help you.” He said as he gripped your hips and thrusted his cock into you with a drunken fervor. His rhythm was frantic and unrefined, yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pressed his drunk lips against yours, his malt liquor breath intoxicating you once more as he shoved his tongue down your throat. He pulled your braided hair, roughly tugging the ribbons in your hair as well, “Call me your boss, baby.”

You choked on your moans as you tried to respond, the taste of the fourth of July entered your mouth once more.

“Fuck, you can be the boss, daddy.”

[lovelytsunoda]

bare feet on linoleum // pato o ward

summary: when the voices in her head get loud, pato is there to keep her grounded

pairing: pato o ward x female reader

warnings: mentions of intrusive and anxious thoughts. title taken from the poem by lana del rey.

it always happened when she had nothing else to think about.

today, she was sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by her extended family. the trip home had been long awaited, and now she sat with her grandparents and her cousins, her four-year-old niece perched on the stool at the end of the table, a euros match playing softly from the small tv in the background.

nothing had even triggered it. in fact, it was almost a decision her mind made of its own accord: you have nothing else to think about right now, why don’t we get distressed?

in an instant, the vivid thought took over, a sucky feeling coating her limbs. she felt sluggish, clutching her hand into a fist next to her salad. her eyes seemed to cloud over as she missed something her grandad said (although it was probably a line of conversation she didn’t want to follow).

“amorcito?” patos voice was quiet, his hand reaching to unclench hers. she was gripping her knife in a white knuckled grasp, and he was worried she’d hurt herself, albeit unintentionally. “where’d you go, pretty girl?” his words were soothing, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her skin.

she took a deep breath, attempting to let the thought go and bring herself back to the present moment. “sorry. I just got a little lost in my head there for a minute. my brain has decided to be a bitch today.”

“hey,” pato kept his voice low, gentle fingers slipping through hers to cradle her hand. “none of that. do you want to talk about it?”

she shook her head, voice crackly as the thought bounced around, turning the inside of her head into an echo chamber. “not particularly.”

pato nodded. he wasn’t going to push her, knowing she was scared of being judged for the thoughts that caused her distress, even if the rational part of her brain knew that her sweet boy was the last person who would judge her for anything. if she didn’t want to talk about the thought, however big or small, because sometimes they were small things that felt like big things, the least he could do was hold her close and remind her that she was more than her thoughts.

“come here.” he said softly, slipping a warm arm around her shoulders, and allowing her to rest her weight against him.

she sighed into his embrace, feeling his arm wrap around her as she gripped his hand tighter, desperately trying to redirect her thoughts, searching for something else to focus her mind on.

patos lips were warm against her forehead, the subtle mexican lilt to his voice soothing as he spoke “you are more than your bad thoughts. whatever it is, it will pass, okay my love?”

she nodded, turning to press a quick kiss to the skin on patos neck. just being in his arms was helping relieve the bad feeling. she no longer felt shaky, a contented warmth filling her veins. her mind cleared, though it still felt hazy as she thought about her boyfriend.

“think about something good.” he encouraged, the pair still oblivious to the world around them. “what book are you reading right now?”

she thought about it, her mind travelling to the wholesome crime caper she had started the night before, her mind honing in on the troupe of meddlesome old ladies attempting to solve a murder.

she also thought about her niece, who had just said something rather funny about prawns that she managed to catch through the haze of her mind.

she laughed along with the group, slowly coming back to herself as england scored a goal in the match that still played near the kitchen sink.

while her cousin and grandparents began to cheer, she turned to pato.

“thank you.”

he smiled softly, resting his forehead against hers. “you don’t need to thank me, amorcito. I’m always here when you need me.”

“y/n,” her cousin started “do you want to help me move the plates?”

if nicole had caught on that yn was lost in her head, she didn’t show it, but yn was thankful for another task to do. something to keep her busy.

after the table had been cleared, the football match relocated to another tv, her niece curled up in the couch with her father, yn stood in the dining room doorway, leaning against pato and allowing her mind to wander again, this time into what she hoped would be happier territory: one filled with visions of her own future.

as the match reached half time, natalie reached into the record cabinet, putting on a soft folksy record by a british artist yn had never heard of.

when the soft music began to play, pato folded yn into his arms, beginning to sway softly back and forth as he held her. she would always feel safe in his arms, shrouded in a sense of calm that was like nothing else as she rested her head against his chest.

when she was with pato, all of her insecurities, all of her anxiety, all of her negative thoughts, fell away. he’s, the odd negative thought would always find its way through, but pato would be there for her through it all.

when she was with pato, she was just her.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @thatsdemko @httpiastri

[chouxsardine]

Mariner's Complex -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Look for the lighthouse when you are lost, it will always bring you home. May the light in your soul guide you, may the love in your heart keep you strong." -- Jake is nervous before going on stage. You know just the right way to calm his nerves.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 2532

Warnings: 18+! minors be gone, mention of alcohol, mention of anxiety, public sex, unprotected penetrative sex, soft Jake (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: Smut, hurt/comfort (kind of)

Author's note: This piece is inspired by the gif above. I am smitten upon seeing it. This is my first time writing smut. It's about vulnerability, about receiving and giving love, lots of love. It is my fictional way of hoping that Jake is reminded of being one of the best guitarists out there and that he is loved by us. Deepest thanks to the wonderful @sacredjake for beta reading and for inspiring and encouraging me to pick up writing and post this. Please do yourself a favor and read her works; they're awesome beyond words. Enjoy!!

🎧: songs that pair nice with this piece: Lost at Sea by Lana Del Rey and Rob Grant; Mariners apartment complex by Lana Del Rey (can you tell I'm bad at titles now?)

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There’s just something about the air in the stadium before the concert; it feels like with every inhale, it immediately turns into adrenaline. With its graininess accentuated, one can almost sense the atoms buzzing in the air, like a shoal of sardines forming a bait ball, enclosing him, a cyclone where he is the eye. Is this what Josh means when he writes “carbon dancing through time” ?

His mind is racing a million miles a second; it’s like hoping onto a car with broken brakes, he’s bound to hit something in the hazardous terrain——

Knock knock. “Jake?”

As if someone pulled the switch, he is snapped back to reality. He immediately recognizes the voice of his lover. The sweetest sound in the world. His shoulder visibly relaxes, the corner of his mouth turning up, and his heart feels tender. He has always appreciated this—forever so considerate and thoughtful, always respecting his privacy even though they have already been together for so long.

“Come in!”

As expected, his lover’s face came into view, the familiar smile.

“I got you the salad you wanted!” You said, raising the white plastic bags in your hands.

You can tell he is anxious the moment you push open the door. Years of a committed relationship must have formed some kind of telepath between you two. You can almost sense it in the air. Is it a thing though? Like the service dogs that can smell it when their owner’s heart is beating too fast. Well, you know someone’s heart is certainly racing now.

You can’t quite figure out where his anxiety is coming from. They boys are at the middle leg of this tour. Is it from the traveling? Or maybe it has to do with his string snapping during soundcheck earlier? Or it could just be his brain playing tricks on him. And you respect that, even amazed or amused because you know it’s from the very same place where all the amazing melodies and witty remarks are born.

You spotted the glass on the vanity. Amber liquid barely covering its bottom, corresponding to the proportionate empty space in the newly-opened bottle of whiskey right next to it. You know Jake is never one to get plastered before going on stage. The alcohol is just a pacifier for his nerves. You follow his gaze to the white roses sitting in the vase. He’s remained quiet all this time, not even trying to hide his feelings, only giving you a smile through his reflection in the mirror. The comfortable silence hangs mellowly like willow branches, a mute radiation of his trust and vulnerability.

You set the bag aside and squat down in front of him, thumb brushing the back of his hand. You know better than to ask questions like “are you okay”. You know that right now your physical presence is already a comfort for him. You’d rather let him take the lead for the rest.

Jake tilts up your chin—a silent cue for kisses. You happily oblige, feeling his lips forming a smile upon contact with yours. He releases a contented sigh, pulling back after a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah? You’ve got me now.” Now sitting across his lap, your hand rests gently on his cheek. Jake immediately leans into your touch like a cat, turning his head and pressing kisses into your palm.

“They already double-checked it. I’ll ask them to pay extra attention before the show starts, just to make sure.” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, revealing the little hoop dangling.

Jake hums, knowing you are referring to the snapped string earlier. Stupid mistake. His throat feels dry, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I——”

“Shh,” you give him a peck on the lips, “none of that. You don’t have to explain anything. Those feelings are valid. And they are temporary.”

Then a brilliant idea strikes you.

“We’ll take a walk, alright?”

“Here?” He cocks his head in slight confusion.

He immediately recognizes that you are giving him a taste of his own medicine. Well, in a good way. He knows you are talking about one of those “mental health walks” that he proposes when you are engulfed by the noises inside your head. But the backstage is not street gardens or some hiking trials in a park, how will that work?

“Yeah, you have time. Right?”

There’s indeed at least a good half an hour before the last sound check. He can’t argue with you. By the way, when were he ever able to say no to your invitations? This little genius mind of his lovers, constantly conjuring up the most amusing and endearing words and ideas like the hat of a magician. With a resigned smile, he caves in, placing his hands in yours.

“Come on, up you get, you lazy butt.” You step back and pull on his arm.

“Hey, you love this butt!” He protests in feigned grievance.

“Yup, can’t deny it’s a nice one.” You jokingly smack his ass as you follow him out of the dressing room, feeling happier hearing his banter, seeing him slowly getting back to himself. He’ll get there, you will make sure of it.

The corridors are generally quiet around this time, allowing the artists to rest before the real frenzy starts. Occasionally, stage crews pass by, rolling equipments boxes down the hall. You two swiftly move out of their way, hand in hand, strolling as if window shopping in the mall. You are entertaining Jake with a funny little incident you saw on your way to buy him food.

“You should’ve seen it, really,” you snort out a laugh recalling the scene, “that poor lady is struggling so hard and the shopping cart is just running away from her, loaded with two cases of Guinness!”

Jake is laughing with you, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. You turn to admire his profile, the apple of his cheek rising, the wrinkle to his nose deepening, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. There’s nothing you love more than seeing Jake smile and laugh, it never fails to create that fizzy feeling in your heart, like a bubble approaching the surface of a cream soda.

Having jumped out of your storytelling, your attention diverts back to the feeling of Jake’s arm snaking around your waist. Now his hands are sliding up your sides, from the small of your back to the sweet spot on your flank.

He turns to look at you. Upon meeting his gaze, you immediately pick up the implicit plea. His caramel eyes full of admiration, the edge of his iris grows fuzzy. His eyelashes flutter as his gaze falls to your lips.

You cover the distance between you with a kiss. This one is different from the one in the dressing room. The tip of his tongue tickles your bottom lip with small licks before him pulls back a bit and mutters under his breath, “Want you, want to be close to you.”

Once again, you are more than willing to indulge.

It’s just so convenient that you happened to be near the corner where a pilaster protrudes enough to hide you from the passersby. As your back hits the wall, your fingers are already tangled in Jake’s hair, holding him close. You are circled by him, his freshly applied cologne lingers, now well adapted to his skin, bergamot wrapping the hidden notes of pepper and cedar. Jake kisses along your jawline and traces downwards, creating a dotted line of kisses across your breasts and hovering over your navel. His hands tugging on the waist of your pants. As he unzips it smoothly, he dives back in with more kisses, nibbling on the material of your underwear.

“No,” you mumble, tugging on his elbow motioning him to stand up, “I want you in me.” You loved it when he goes down on you, but not now. Now you need it to be about him, you know he needs it too.

There is a halt in his movement, suddenly his eyes a shade darker.

“Yes, let it out, Jake.” You hold your forehead against his, making sure he hears every word certain and clear. Whatever it is, a much-needed release, a claim of territory, an outlet of his bundled nerves. “Use me. Fuck me.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Jake sucks in a breath.

You smirk, tilting your head back against the wall and surrendering more of your body to his arms. Jake’s hands on your thighs cover the coolness of your skin as your pants pool around your ankles. His knuckles tracing your heat through the fabric, the ghostly touch making you squirm.

“Please, Jake.” You loop your arms around his neck, raising up a leg pressing it into the side of his waist.

“So wet for me already, angel.” With frantic eagerness, he takes out his length and pulls your underwear aside. Your slickness draws his hard cock inside as he bottoms out in one firm and steady thrust. Jake was looking down as he enters you, his eyebrows creased in concentration, eyelashes throwing shadows under his eyes. He never fails to marvel at the way your bodies connect, it catches him in awe every time no matter how many times you have fucked, just as you are exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. When his gaze meets yours again, it’s like moonlight spilling behind clouds. You are the only object of his vision.

“Yes!” You mouth silently as he starts moving, him picking up the pace almost instantly as if placed in a running wheel. Jake’s head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, hot breath radiating and him lapping up at whatever area of skin he comes in contact with. His arm goes under your knee and finds leverage on the wall, the other hand holding onto your pelvis, pinning you in place. The rough texture of the brick wall rubs against your back along each shudder, magnifying the titillation deep inside you.

You feel like with each thrust his insecurity and anxiety ebbs away like the snaky morning fog, replaced by his confidence and charming self: the one you know will work his magic on stage tonight just like ever, the one that will make the entire stadium shake and roar just by his fingers moving across six strings, the one that proves both to the world and to himself again and again that “it could be done”.

You can feel him swell and twitch against your walls, you squeeze you thighs and clench, knowing he’s getting close. The spasms of his cock tickling that particular spot to the point of no return, the ecstasy washing over you like a cascade. The whines and screams rolling and tumbling in your chest like a pot of boiling water, threatening to jump out of your mouth. You roll your eyes back and swallow them down, releasing only one suppressed moan of “let go, baby” against Jake’s ear, and that is enough to send him over the edge.

With one jerk of his body, he cums hard. You can feel the additional thickness of his release almost dripping down your crotch. Jake’s whole weight falls towards you with the hunch of his shoulders. His chest presses firmly against your body, its rise and fall teasing your still hard nipples.

You hold his head against your chest as he comes down from the high, fingers brushing away the naughty strands of hair that have flown into the corner of his mouth and stuck to his cheek.

“As much as I would like to stay here forever, you really have to get going. They must be looking for their rockstar everywhere.” You chuckle while shimmying out of your rumpled underwear, using it to clean up.

“Damn.” Jake leans back against the wall as he watches you, still on cloud nine and short of words. For a moment, all he can do is look at you.

“Stop staring.” You nudge him, unable to stop blushing facing his caramel eyes filled with unadulterated adoration. You bet if you could reach into them, you would find a handful of stars. Plus, Jake looks exceptionally beautiful post-fuck, the upturn at the corners of his mouth accentuated the curve of his cupid’s bow. The smug smirk is counterbalanced by the rosy blush on his cheekbones, a tell-tale sign of his satiated desire. Good. That’s what you’d expected and what you’d like to see.

Jake cups your face in both of his hands as he leans in for a kiss. This time, almost childish, his pouted lips pepper all over, the bilabial “mwah” is especially pronounced, causing you to giggle again.

“Quite the walk, huh?” You insinuate.

“Well, now I prefer to call it the ‘mental health fuck’,” Jake slowly straightens his back, resembling a cat stretching after a content nap. “Catch you on the flip side, my love.”

He was already a couple of strides away when he rushes back to kiss you again, catching you in surprise. Aggressive and fervent in his actions, but oh so gentle when his mouth meets yours. This is the type of kiss where he takes the lead, and you are completely at his mercy. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, and his teeth softly bite your lower lip. It’s a kiss that steals your breath and your heartbeat away for tits entirety . “You know you are my lighthouse, yeah?” He stares right into your eyes, his voice low and husky. “ You always guide me back when I’m lost at sea. My Leucothea, my Lady of Luck.”

You feel a lump in your throat, and every word goes straight to your heart. The feelings there are so overwhelming that they rise and swell like tidal waves. It;s so much love that it makes you want to cry.

“Gosh, Jake, such the poet.” That all you manage to say.

“Because you’re my muse, my angel,” Jake smiles again as he steps back one last time. “And now it’s time for me to set sail again, yeah?”

“Aye aye,” you blow him a kiss, “Fair Winds, Captain.”

You watch as he leaves. The Starcatcher symbol on his back standing tall and proud. The crystal embellishments on his jacket scintillate, jet crystals and glass beads shimmers, reflecting the lights like a thousand stars falling onto his shoulders. He is the warrior that breaks their fall, wearing them proud as a crystal armour. You watch as he marches forward, carrying on his shoulders the weight of dreams. Your dearest rocker, the bravest captain.

For Jake, the atoms are still buzzing, but now he can feel them moving rhythmically, like the joyful wings of a hummingbird or the secret dance of bees. They delivering a yet undecipherable but nonetheless auspicious message. Soon he will be going on stage, carrying a heart full of love from his lover, so he can give all his love to his fans out there. And he knows if he looks, he will find you among the crowd, a cluster of flame, a powerhouse of love.

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Thank you so much for reading!! :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated.

The description of Jake's jacket is heavily relied on this post

kudos to who spotted the TLSP reference hehe

If you are in need of some fluff, feel free to check out my another Jake pieces: Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

[mangacupcake]

So potential event The country club

Idia is forced to go to his grandfather's, the head of the Jupiter conglomerate Chairman Jupiter favorite Country club with Ortho and this is quite literally his worst nightmare cause forced social interactions, and forced social interactions with his mom's family.

His cousins are the stereotypical mean rich kids and then there is his aunt Juniper's daughter, Agnes. but shes five and kinda shy.

So Idia recruits some S tier troublemakers. Miss Yuu and Grim, Azul cause this is something he has been waiting for. He's so ready to kids up to chairman Jupiter and Ruggie who was promised his resume would be given to Idia's grandpa Chairman junpter for the summer season.

Ortho Decieds to invite some friends too. Vil, who heard about the trip to the famous country club and the well known spa within the resort. and Cater who ready to get some pics and pretend he’s in a Lana Del Rey music video

@adrianasunderworld @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna

[wisteriaw0rld]

-ˋˏ ༻Hantengu Clones༺ ˎˊ-

||Characters: Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi

||Additional Tags: Fluff, Gn! Reader, Headcanons + Short Oneshot

“You’re no good for me, but baby I want you, I want you..” -Lana Del Rey

˚ʚsekidoɞ˚

♡He’s obviously always angry, it’s the emotion he’s meant to be. But when he confessed to you, he attempted to be as least angered as possible.

♡However if in any way you decide to tease him or say something like, “what?” (Even if you genuinely didn’t hear him), he would quickly get angry, even if its only slightly angrier from before.

♡He’s also not very patient, that much is extremely obvious. So make sure you answer quickly, whether you hug him or give a verbal reply, don’t be slow. He has a short temper.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ 

You had originally been hanging out with Daki, you playing around with her hair and putting it ip into different styles over and over again. But that was until Sekido suddenly entered the room, grabbing hold of your wrist and dragging you out with Daki seeming shocked.

Saying that you weren’t scared at first was a complete lie. Despite having a crush on Sekido, you’ve seen the way he acted. It was still against demon rules to kill another upper moon, but in reality, Sekido was just a clone.

“Y/n.” The demon stated, having his usual tone of voice while breaking you out of your trance and letting go of your now sore wrist.

“Hm?” You asked while rubbing your wrist gently with your opposite hand.

“I like you.” He said, looking down at your hand rubbing your wrist. “Return my feelings.”

The last statement sounded more demanding than he wanted it too…

˚ʚkarakuɞ˚

♡He’s a pleasure demon. And although it doesn’t seem like it, he knows how to be romantic when he wants to. Which was shocking for you to find out.

♡Unfortunately, when he’s searching for you, he sounds more terrifying than loving. But then again, why go around his part of the infinity castle calling out your name in a sing-song voice?

♡He doesn’t exactly know how to be romantic when in a place like the infinity castle, so instead he sneaks out at night and finds you your favorite flower. If your flower only grows in a certain area, he makes Urogi fly there.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ 

“Y/n~” You heard Karaku’s voice call out for you while you continued hiding from him. You didn’t really know what to expect with his scary sounding voice. Especially since you had secretly eaten the human body he retrieved a few moments later.

“Found ya! Why were you hiding?” He laughs slightly at your terrible hiding spot before picking you up with one arm and bringing you to your feet.

“Oh you didn’t- You know what? Nevermind. What did you need?” You questioned, trying to peek behind his back where he was hiding his hand.

Suddenly, he brought the flowers from behind his hand, handing them to you while watching your face expression change into a slightly more flustered one.

“Just wanted to proclaim my love for you.” He said with a smirk before pulling you in a hug. Only a few seconds into the hug, he moved his lips over near your mouth. “I know you ate the last body.”

Crap. 

˚ʚaizetsuɞ˚

♡He looked more anxious than usual. Which didn’t take long for you to notice as you had your eyes on him for a while.

♡For a while, you pestered him about it, asking him repeatedly if he was okay or if something happened. After repeated answers of “im fine”, you eventually gave up.

♡Aizetsu took up an entire hour preparing himself, mainly for rejection. If anything he would much so prefer a hug or kiss rather than a verbal response from you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ 

“Y/n?” You heard a hesitant voice call out to you from behind, making you turn around and come face to face with Aizetsu, who seemed to have more of a sad expression than usual. The same expression you’ve been worried of.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s wrong?” You question with a hint of worry plastered on your own face. His sadness was slowly getting more and more contagious. But it never meant you didn’t lime being around him.

“I…I really like you.” He replied, handing over a single small sunflower that had been slouching in an almost sad way. Immediately, your expression changed as you pulled Aizetsu into a loving hug, him hugging back as he realized.

˚ʚurogiɞ˚

♡Another charmer out of the clones, just like Karaku. He wanted it to be perfect, and his joy only made the moment better. At least to him.

♡It was surprisingly easy for him to push all the negative thoughts of what may happen to the very back of his head, only thinking of your mesmerizing face and happy expression. 

♡He’s almost always by your side, so when he wanted to take his plan into initiative, he didn’t really have to go looking for you. He just told you he needed to show you something urgent so he rushed you outside in the moonlight with him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ 

“Urogi!” You exclaimed, holding onto him tightly as he began flying off with an arm around you waist, to make sure you wouldn’t fall. Sure, you were used to jumping high during battle, but flying was different.

You kept your eyes shut for the first few minutes as all you felt was the wind brushing through your hair and against your body.

“Open your eyes or this will all be for nothing.” Urogi groaned while ever so gently and repeatedly slapping your cheek in an attempt to get you to open your eyes.

Eventually you opened your eyes, the white shining light of the moon taking over as you continuously fluttered your eyes until you adjusted to the bright light.

Finally, you looked up at the full moon, you and Urogi still moving at a fast pace through the sky.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

[vanessaedp]

Sweetheart |•| Simon Riley x Fem Reader

fluff, angst if you use a magnifying glass 🔎, Ghost being a cutie patootie, sexual innuendo once, 141 meets ghost's s/o for the first time, soap ans gaz love cats, i hc gaz has celiac disease

not proof-read bc i cant be arsed soz lmfao 💀

also reblog pookies and i'll give you a free foot massage

~~~~

Three months without your boyfriend.

Your eyes scanned the new book you bought, 'Psycho by Robert Bloch'. It was a good book. 'I think everybody goes a little crazy sometimes' Norman bates said in the book. It was a line you related to heavily, especially when Simon went out on his missions. You were left all alone with your cat, Eleanor. Although, she was an adorable, orange tabby cat she reminded you of Simon since he bought her for you. Everything in this house reminded you of Simon. Half of the stuff in the living room he had bought because he'd rather gift you something than hug which you understood because he had opened up a tiny bit about his past and it seemed traumatic. Simon gifted you the most lavish things to equal the amount of times he wanted to hug you but couldn't due to his past. It was sad to think he had to buy your hugs but you appriciated the gesture.

~~~

"Right, I haven't had the chance to tell her that you lot are coming so if she freaks out don't worry." Simon grumbles.

The rest of the group nodded. Price was sitting in the drivers seat with Gaz beside him, they were both chatting about how the mission went while Simon and Soap were sitting at the back. For once, Simon showed some emotion. Nervousness. His leg was bouncing and his fist kept clenching and unclenching.

"You alright L.T?" Soap piped up, looking at his obviously anxious supervisor. Simon nodded.

"I hope she's doing alright." Simon stared at Soap with that stoic expression. Price and Gaz stopped talking and Price turned his head a little, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm sure she's fine. From what you've told us she can put up a fight so if something was to happen she'd be cool as a cucumber." Price smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Simon grimaced at the last part of his sentence but Price wasn't wrong. You knew Taekwando and you were flexible. Simon was shocked the first time you showed him how to do a backbend and that beautiful arch your back made that caused him to feel-

"Yeah, Ghost. She seems really nice. I've heard her while you two were on call. It's funny really. She sounds so sweet and bubbly and you-" Gaz stopped himself. "Well..." He trailed off when he saw Price shaking his head at him.

"He means that you two are polar opposites." Soap chimes in. "But you know what they say." He nudged Simon as if he already knew what he was going to say. "Opposites attract."

"Fucking hell." Simon let out a deep sigh. "Are we almost there?" He sounded impatient.

"Just around the corner, mate." Price reassured.

~~~

There was a knock at the door.

You poked your head from your book, folding the page over and stepping off the couch. You sighed. It could be Simon, then again it could be your SHEIN order that was due to arrive yesterday. You walked over to the door and opened it, gasping when you see your boyfriend, Simon.

"Simon!" You smile, stepping forward. Simons breath hitches and you notice this so you take a step back. He feels guilty. He had just been gone for three months and he's too scared to embrace his own girlfriend of 4 years? No. He won't let his fears get to him. Not when he's just left you for so long. Simon steps forward, pulling you close to him and hugging you. His arms stretched around your waist and he rested his face in the crook of your neck, you heard him inhale your perfume.

You were too distracted about the fact that Simon is hugging you that you don't realise his friends were here. You lifted your head to see them awkwardly looking away. "Simon, you never told me you brought your friends." You laughed when he pulled away, you could see the embarrassment in his eyes when he realised he had dived into your arms infront of his boss and co-workers.

"Yeah." He shuffled to the side and they all met your eyes. You smiled and waved and they did the same, mumbling some "hi's" and "hello's". "This is Soap."

"I believe he prefers-." Gaz speaks.

"Pipe down." Soap interrupts him.

Simon gave Soap a harsh pat on the back and Soap gave him a dirty look. He points to Price and Gaz. "Thats Price, my captain and Gaz."

"Oh, its so nice to meet you all. Come in, i'll get you all something to drink if you'd like.

"Um.. alright then." Price smiled back and entered, Gaz and Soap followed close behind and Ghost shut the door.

"I'm gluten free, by the way." Gaz says, looking around your massive living room. It has cat toys everywhere and Gaz nudges Soap. "They have a cat." He whispers and Soap looks thrilled, his head darts around in search for the feline.

While your in the kitchen making the men something to drink, they all settle down on the couch. Eleanor walks in and nuzzles against Ghost's leg. He leans over and pets her, scratching behind her ear. Soap looks in awe. "You never told us you have a cat." He scolds Ghost.

"You never asked." Ghost mumbled, picking Eleanor up and stroking her soft fur. "I missed you, Ellie." He whispers and holds the cat like a baby, loud purrs from Eleanor filled the room.

"Can I hold her?" Gaz asked, peeking over Soap's shoulder to look at the tabby cat.

"Me too, please." Soap asked, feeling his heart melt when Ghost placed Eleanor on Soap's lap. "Oh my god, who's a good kitty?" He says in a baby voice as Eleanor stretched across him and Gaz's lap. Their hands eagerly petting the cats fur.

You return with a tray of coca colas in bottles. "I made sure it was gluten free." You laugh and take a seat in an armchair. "I see Ellie has taken a liking to you both."

"Is that her name?" Gaz asked, looking up at you for a moment before sipping his cola and petting the kitten.

"Well, she's actually called Eleanor but me and Simon just call her Ellie." You smile.

"How old is she?" Price asked, scratching Eleanor's chin, smiling down at her. She purred away peacefully.

"Um.." You glanced at Simon who held up 3 fingers. "She's 3. She's a tabby cat so i'm just glad they don't grow too big."

Price nodded. "She's adorable. Be careful though, Soap and Gaz might want to steal her from you. They love animals." Gaz and Soap didn't even look up from the cat but they nodded. Eleanor let out a meow and they both went 'Aww'. "How long have you two lived together?"

"2 years I think. My dad left most of the inheritance to me so I asked Simon if he wanted to move in with me. And now we're here." You shrugged and Price nodded.

~~~

After about 2 hours of talking and joking Price checked his watch. "We should go now. Gaz and Soap have training tomorrow." He lifted up Eleanor from his lap and placed her on the couch. "Thank's for having us." Price smiled.

"Thanks." Gaz said with a smile before giving Eleanor a scratch on the chin. Soap did the same and nodded.

"Bye, you'll have to come over again!" You waved them off, shutting the door when they drive off. You re-enter the living room and sit beside Simon. "They seem lovely." You look up at him.

"You haven't known them as long as I have." Simon chuckled darkly, his arm hesitantly reaching over your shoulder and hooking around to pull you close to him. He looked down at you.

"So.. do you want to order a take-away or do you want to go out?" You nestled your cheek against the side of his chest.

"Can we stay here?" He asked, sinking into the couch. "Like how we are now. I don't want to let you go."

"Okay, Simon." You nod and smile. And he didn't let you go. He made sure you fell asleep and woke up in his arms.

~~~

eat up guys