#even though I have not always been happy with his label

[spockandstars]

I was thinking about how Spock is intentionally paralleled with Sydney Carton from A Tale of Two Cities in The Wrath of Khan, and now I am unwell!

At the beginning of the movie, Spock famously gives Kirk A Tale of Two Cities as a birthday present. This book was specifically included for its themes of sacrifice and resurrection, which obviously mirror Spock’s decision to give up his life to save the crew. Notably, Kirk’s final lines reference the famous closing of the novel.

Kirk: It is a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done before... a far better resting in place I go to than I have ever known...

Carol: is that a poem?

Kirk: Something Spock was trying to tell me. On my birthday.

So what’s the importance of this line? The famous “far better thing” quote is from the book’s ending when Carton has just sacrificed himself for his beloved Lucie, giving himself up to be executed in place of her husband so that she may find happiness. (Live long and prosper, anyone?)

Interestingly, both Spock and Carton are emotionally repressed characters, and anguish over the depth of their love for the people who uniquely see them for who they are — in this case, Jim and Lucie. While I’d argue that Spock is more at peace with himself and his feelings for Jim after the events of the first movie, the point still stands that Jim is the one to truly understand him in a world that labels him as a cold and calculating being.

I believe that this is what Kirk’s line calling Spock’s soul “the most human I have ever encountered,” is supposed to represent. (Even though I agree with the criticism that it could have been worded better!) Similarly, Lucie is the one to recognize Carton’s inner nature in spite of his aloof facade, begging “I would ask you to believe that [Carton] has a heart he very, very seldom reveals, and that there are deep wounds in it.” (Book 2, Chapter 20.)

When Carton finally admits his love to Lucie, it’s hard not to see the resemblance to Spock’s dilemma in the first movie. You know, that time when Spock, in his heartbreak over something related to Jim (that were not given an explanation for), cries out “Jim! Good-bye my . . . my t’hy’la. This is the last time I will permit myself to think of you or even your name again!” before attempting to purge himself of all feelings in an ancient ritual, and failing because the Vulcan priestess can totally sense that he’s still thinking about Kirk. (Yup, that totally straight time!)

Well, Carton is in a similarly agonizing predicament, because he can’t get his feelings for Lucie to go away. He tells her, “I break down before the knowledge of what I want to say to you” and “I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire—a fire, however, inseparable in its nature from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no service, idly burning away.” (Book 2, Chapter 13)

He also expresses that he could never separate his love for her from himself, saying that “Within myself, I shall always be, towards you, what I am now.” (Book 2, Chapter 13) Yeah, I know the fact this mirrors Spock’s famous “I have been and always shall be yours” is probably a coincidence, but I’ll be damned if I don’t mention it.

Finally, Carton expresses his love for her in his willingness to sacrifice himself for her sake: “For you, and for any dear to you, I would do anything. If my career were of that better kind that there was any opportunity or capacity of sacrifice in it, I would embrace any sacrifice for you and for those dear to you… there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!” (Book 2, Chapter 13.) Of course, Carton’s story ends when he sacrifices himself for her, fulfilling this promise. Hmm, now who else does that sound like?

This is definitely not a perfect parallel: Spock doesn’t start out as a lazy alcoholic, although there is an argument to be made that Carton’s low self-worth reflects Spock’s before he went on his conversion therapy fueled journey of self discovery. Additionally, I wouldn’t say that Spock’s love for Kirk is unrequited like Carton’s for Lucie, (as evidenced by many things, but I’ll primarily point to the events of The Motion Picture and The Search for Spock), but you could potentially cast Carol in the role of Darnay, Lucie’s husband.

The most important thing to glean from this is that Spock was very deliberately set up to be the Carton figure, which is interesting given that Carton’s actions are driven by his willingness to do anything to see his beloved be happy and prosper.

[mintycurry]

Omar has an acting agent now! It seems to be a pretty new development, or at least I previously didn't know TEN even has an acting agency. So, good for him 💫

Source

[emperorpalpatittay]

Simon Riley calls his kids pet names like pup or cub. I will die on this hill.

“Come along, cub. Your mother is waiting on us.”

All of his kids have him labeled as “Papa Bear” in their phones.

Everyone thinks it’s Simon who runs the household but it’s actually his wife.

A small but formidable woman who runs her house with the utmost care and love. Who hung up Simons military medals even though he didn’t want to.

“Lovie, you really don’t have to hang them up. They’re practically worthless.”

“Si, I mean this in the most loving way. Shut up. I am so proud of you and everything you’ve done. I’m making sure everyone who steps foot in this house knows it.”

When it comes to her children’s happiness and safety Mrs.Riley is equally as protective. Simon has had to drag her out of the headmasters office numerous times whenever her girls have been harassed by other students or teachers.

The Riley’s home is welcoming and warm. Always smelling like baked goods.

[ma1dita]

play pretend

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k (holy shit)

summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)

a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm

(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )

—

There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.

Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.

It almost feels real. 

Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.

Your eyes pop open.

Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.

“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.

The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.

“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your angelface and his trouble. 

It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.

His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.

“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”

You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.

“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 

The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.

“Castellan.”

He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 

Idiot. 

Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.

“SISSY!!!” 

“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 

Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.

“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.

“Dunno trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.

Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.

You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 

But that’s kind of the problem. 

Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 

Especially since it’s Luke.

His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.

“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”

Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.

What a way to go, you two.

“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 

You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 

Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 

You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 

He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.

“Seriously?” 

He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.

This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.

Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.

“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 

Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.

Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.

—

Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.

Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.

And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.

Being in love sure feels like it is.

The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.

Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.

Could he actually want more? 

The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.

“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 

All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.

“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.

You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.

It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 

And who would want to love someone so difficult? 

Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.

“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”

Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.

“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.

“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”

Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.

Does everyone know? 

Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 

Fuck. 

“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 

Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”

Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.

—

It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.

He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 

“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”

Well… she has a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).

A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.

“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.

“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”

“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.

“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”

There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 

“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.

For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.

It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).

—

Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Good evening, um…sir.”

“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”

Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).

“Are you drunk?”

Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.

“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.

There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”

“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 

“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”

“What?”

“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.

Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.

“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.

“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 

There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 

It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.

“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”

“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”

Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.

“You should tell her that more often, sir.”

“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act like an asshole if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”

“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”

Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.

“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”

“What bet?”

Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.

“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 

“I’d die before that happens, sir.”

“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.

—

“I know you’re still awake, trouble.”

You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.

“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.

“You didn’t.”

Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.

“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.

“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.

“What the fuck?”

“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”

“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.

“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.

There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.

“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”

His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.

“You’re my best friend, angelface,” you mumble.

Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.

Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”

The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.

“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”

Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 

“You think I’m not scared of us either, trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”

“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.

“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.

You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.

—

Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).

—

“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt

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[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x reader but reader is contemplating their relationship?

(IDK IF YOU DO ANGST SORRY 😭)

No worries!! It's definitely not my most practiced genre but I'm happy to give it a try :) Honestly unsure if this came out as angsty enough, so please do not be shy and let me know if not! Thanks for requesting

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 886 words

James, Remus, and Sirius balance each other out perfectly. James is so sweet he should come with a warning label, always showering everyone in affection and bringing joy into every room he's in; Remus emanates a quieter sort of contentedness, and he provides a calm, rational perspective when the others need it; and Sirius takes everything they have together and dials it up to eleven, the depth of his feelings so intense that being around him is almost a sort of high.

The issue is, you're not sure where you fit into all that.

The boys seem to care about you, but you can't really figure out why. You have none of James' lightness, Remus' patience, Sirius' humor. You've been trying to hold onto this thing between you, to enjoy it while it lasts, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is becoming maddening. Eventually—someday soon, likely—they're going to realize that they're better off without you.

Naturally, you're pondering this while Sirius braids your hair, James chattering about why he thinks you all need a dog (Sirius has pointed out that you already have him) and Remus reading with his back leaned against your side.

You're trying to figure out the least needy way to ask why they care about you when Remus nudges you with a movement of his shoulder.

"You've been quiet tonight, dove."

It's far from accusatory, but the other boys pick up on the implication nonetheless. Suddenly, all the attention in the room is on you. It's a bit overwhelming.

"I was just thinking..." you say tentatively, unsure of your words. "Do you think we'll all stay together?"

James looks as though you've slapped him, and though Remus doesn't turn, you feel the muscles in his shoulders tense.

"Why would you say that?" James asks. "Of course I think so."

"But..." Merlin, there's no easy way to go about this conversation. "I just, I don't really see what I'm bringing to the table here." You cringe at your own words, awaiting judgement—or worse, epiphany—from your boyfriends.

Sirius, whose hands have been motionless in your hair since you spoke up, abandons his project entirely, letting your hair drop limply from his grasp. "Wha—what does that even mean, what you bring to the table?"

Remus turns around, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Easy, love," he murmurs. "Y/N, can you tell us what you're worried about?"

You look between them as Sirius comes to sit beside Remus, feeling stupid and immature. "Sorry, it's not...a you-guys thing. It's just that, I can see how well you work together, and why you love each other, but I don't really see why you'd love me." Your voice gets quieter as you finish, shameful of your thoughts and the position you know you're putting them in.

Sirius releases a disbelieving exhale, slumping into Remus' side, and the taller boy wraps an arm around him, looking at you like you're one of his crosswords and have just given him a particularly perplexing clue.

"Sweetheart," James says, pulling your attention towards him, "it's not a matter of why we would love you, just that we do. Do you need to list off reasons for why you care about every person in your life, or doesn't it just happen?"

"I don't need to," you admit, "but I could. I love you guys because of who you are."

"And so do we," Remus says. "Dove, we care about you. Isn't that enough? Can you trust us with that?"

"It's not..." It's not a matter of trusting them. You'd trust any of them with your life, with everything. It's that you don't trust yourself. It's that you're worried you won't live up to it, to this earnest affection they're offering you. You don't think you deserve it.

"How about this," Sirius says, in his typical cut-to-the-chase manner. "If we didn't love you—and have damn good reasons for loving you—we wouldn't be with you. So there." You must look unconvinced, because Sirius arches a brow. "You don't think that, with James' bod and Remus' hot accent, not to mention my boyish charm, we could have anyone we wanted?"

You crack a smile, but Sirius just looks at you, awaiting an answer. You shrink a bit under his gaze.

"You could," you say sheepishly.

"Right." Sirius grins suavely. "And we used those combined faculties to snag this hot piece of ass." Without warning, he reaches out and drags you into him, the two of you piling an unfair amount of weight onto Remus.

You squeal, and James shouts "Oi! Leave our poor Moony alone," tugging on Remus' arm until Remus sighs, disentangling himself from Sirius and going to sit beside James. James ruffles his hair, planting a triumphant kiss on the taller boy's cheek. If Remus blushes a bit, you pretend not to notice.

"Got that?" Sirius looks at you threateningly, but his voice is soft, his eyes imploring. "We want you, baby. Finders, keepers."

James nods as if this is a sage decree. "Think you might be able to get used to that?" he asks, and you know he's only partly joking.

You relax into Sirius' hold, giving Remus and James an apologetic look. "Yeah," you say. You can definitely get used to this.

[thranduel]

some facts about astarion that i find very cute/meaningful :)

i wanted to share this so more people can learn about him and appreciate who he is deep down, behind the mask he wears. before cazador turned him, he was just like any other person; he had hobbies, passions and emotions. those things are still there, but they’re just hidden amidst all the darkness. he was so young when he first turned that he barely had a chance to enjoy life or figure himself out. so many people miss out on the complexity of his character due to only focusing on his physical appearance or labelling him as a cruel villain, but in order to see that he’s so much more than that and he’s capable of growing as a person, all you need to do is show him a bit of love!

- he loves embroidery and poetry

- he approves when you pet the owlbear cub because most people view it as a monster (the same way people have always viewed him). it’s like he finds comfort in the fact that you can love and care for something that most people are afraid of, and it gives him hope that you may feel the same way about him too

- if you put a flower on his grave, he smiles and says "cute"

- he comes up to you in camp just to thank you and tell you how grateful he is that you allowed him to make his own decision (after you defend him and don't force him to drink the drow's blood) because he is so used to being told what to do and he was forced to use his body for so many years

- in that same scene, he will hold your hand whether you choose to stay in a romance with him or be friends instead, because he loves and appreciates you no matter what, and any sort of relationship with you is so important and meaningful to him

- if you try to romance karlach and astarion at the same time, he tells you to choose karlach over him, even if he loves you and it hurts him to do so, because he can see that karlach loves you too. he says that normally an arrangement would work for him, but after everything karlach has been through and how fragile her heart is already, he doesn’t want to get in the way or see her hurt

- if you try to romance halsin and astarion at the same time, he just wants you to do what makes you happy, even though you can tell it hurts him if you choose halsin. he’s also worried that you’re unhappy because he hasn’t slept with you (he should never have to worry about that ☹️), so he doesn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself. in this situation and the one with karlach, you can see that there are moments where he puts others before himself and thinks about their feelings more than his own

- if you’re playing as the dark urge and you’re trying to resist it, he is so incredibly comforting and tries to give you strength and encouragement. one of my favourite astarion lines is this: “you’re not alone in this, none of us are.”

some more lines that i love:

“i don’t hate you. because this is not you. but whatever it is, you’ll get through it. and i’ll be here to make sure you do.”

“whatever it is that’s controlling you, we can fight it. i know that better than anyone.”

“this thing won’t have you. it won’t win.”

“easy now, darling. you’ve got this. and i’ve got you.”

- when you try to break up with him because you’re transforming into a mindflayer and you tell him you’re becoming something horrible, he gets so upset that you would even think that way and tells you that you’re wonderful and he doesn’t care about what you look like. then he says he would get more stares walking down a street than you to try and make you feel better

- if you love and care for him and remind him that there is still good out there, he genuinely wants to grow, be a better person and break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago

- he approves when you help people that are considered outcasts or "freaks" because he has felt that way too

- he risked his life and got punished for letting a man go instead of luring him back to cazador because it’s implied he cared about him in some way and he couldn't hurt him (not entirely sure about this one, this is just how i interpreted it based on his voice and mannerisms when he was talking about him)

- he approves when you give an orphaned child food (act 3)

- he becomes vulnerable, honest and more gentle with you once you start treating him like a person, because for the first time in his life, he actually feels safe with someone

- he's extremely insecure despite the mask he wears at the beginning of the game and he doesn't believe he is capable of being genuinely loved for who he is as a person. when you get close to him and tell him you care for him and give him a hug, he is taken aback at first, but then he believes you and hugs you back. also, when you're playing as the dark urge, you get this line: "you like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that." this is proof that astarion is so used to being reduced to his physical appearance after what he was forced to do for so many years, and he thinks that's the only reason why people like him. he struggles with intimacy and forming strong emotional bonds, so that's why it makes your relationship with him even more meaningful when he realises that you truly do love him for who he is, not just for his looks and body

- when the drow you met at moonrise shows up in act 3 and tries to make you drink something, astarion tells you to say no, because the only thing she's offering is pain and he doesn't want to see you hurt

- if you romance him, stop him from doing the ritual and help him defeat cazador, he tells you that you are the only person he's ever truly cared for

- if you defeat cazador without him and tell him you just wanted to protect him, he gets upset at first because you left him behind without telling him and he wanted to take revenge himself, but then he becomes understanding and says “maybe this is what’s best? the kind of power that ritual offered could ruin a person. even me.” this shows how much he’s grown and matured as a person and he’s aware of the consequences of too much power. the scene also ends with him telling you that he’s grateful for something that you did to help him (again).

- he becomes more self-aware, straightforward and honest over time and he doesn’t pretend like he’s perfect. he tells you that you were by his side through all the bloodlust and pain and misery, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. you remained patient with him and trusted him even though it was an objectively stupid thing to do, but he is so grateful for it because you believed he could become a better person (and he did)

- this is sad but he remembers some of the names of the people he had to lure back to cazador and even the memories he shared with them. you can see this during the scene with sebastian, and it’s clear that he actually cared about him (not sure how many situations were like this, but there was definitely more than one)

- if you say “i’m sorry we couldn’t save the other vampire spawn”, he says:

“we could have tried. we could have given them the same chance i had. i was able to go out into the world and make better choices. to go against my nature and become more than a blood-sucking monster. maybe they would have done the same. or maybe not - but did we have the right to take that choice away from them?”

this scene shows how much astarion has grown and how compassionate and empathetic he can be towards others. he understood what it felt like to have his own freedom taken away while cazador made all his decisions for him, so he didn’t want to put the other vampire spawn through that too (especially because he still feels so guilty for luring them there in the first place)

- if you romance him and he stays as a vampire spawn and you choose to help him look for a cure so he can stand in the sun again, this is revealed during the epilogue scene:

“one night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

he’s finally truly happy and free, and the short time he’s spent with you is already so incredibly powerful and important to him. being with you has positively impacted his life in such a massive way that it makes all those centuries of pain and misery feel so much smaller

- another sweet line from astarion during the epilogue scene after he tells you to go catch up with your other friends and see how they’re doing:

“i’ll be here when you’re ready. i’ll always be here, my love.”

THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH 😭🫶🏼 he’s become so kind, loving, respectful, genuine and sincere. i’m so proud of him 🥹

[xhoneygirlxx]

Love To See Me From Your POV

rockstar! Eddie Munson x wife! reader

summary: Seeing Eddie on the road for the first time should be an exciting moment but when your insecurities rise, you wonder if this is the life you were cut out for.

warnings: angst. reader is insecure: mentions of self hatred and low self-esteem. Eddie and Reader are both in their twenties! Rockstar Eddie. Eddie does call groupies gross. mentions of rough marriage. Eddie and reader fight! slight cheating accusations. fluff. Eddie is the sweetest husband, reader and Eddie being in love and cute. Smut 18+ Only, Minors DNI!! : mentions of sex with groupies, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, slight breeding kink, slight dom/sub, body worship/praise, oral receiving (reader), fingering, squirting. shit writing and bad grammar. Not proofread!!!!

If I missed any please let me know! *

a/n: Hello my loves, I got a request from @kellyxo1 for this little thingy right here! I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy! Thank you all again for being so wonderful and lovely to me :) And remember if you ever want to request something, you're more than welcome!

There isn't a booklet on what to do and what not to do when you get married, and there's definitely not a booklet on how to be a rockstar's wife. Married life in itself is a difficult task, but learning the ropes of being married while also dealing with the life of fame was something you or Eddie was prepared for.

Getting married right after Eddie's third senior year was always the plan, two young and dumb freshmen solidifying it with hooked pinkies. Obviously you loved one another more than life itself, but going through the motions of being married at the ripe age of 20 is harder than any fairytale make it out to seem.

It was hard that first year, constantly worried about bills, overtired from working long shifts to pay said bills, and just learning how to live with one another. But in between all the hardships, there were small moments where both of you remembered what it was all about. Eating thirty cent noodles, decorating for holidays, the quiet Sunday mornings where you'd get tangled under bed sheets. The love that both of you hold for one another drowning out every other shitty thing around you.

The second and third year, your whole world flipped upside down. After getting lucky and getting picked up by a big record label, Corroded Coffin was now the hottest new band on the market. You remember the day the boys got signed, how most of them shed a tear of happiness, and how happy your husband looked. A moment in time that was now frozen in a picture that hung on your fridge.

You were so proud of the boys, watching them go from a crowd of seven drunks to recording their own album. There was something so special about being there with your husband for every step, cheering him on from the sidelines every time. When the album finally dropped and the number of sales went up, Eddie surprised you with the keys to the little house on Deer Run Road, the same one that the two of you always fantasied about owning.

Although he worked mostly in LA, he told you he planned on staying in Hawkins where he could still get privacy while being close to the people he loved. You also loved it because you wouldn't have to leave your job at the daycare and your husband would always come home to you.

Now on year four, you were the loneliest you've ever been. Between touring, recording, and everything that comes with being in a band, Eddie has barely home. You can't be mad at him though, he's following his dream all while providing a wonderful life for you. Of course there are nights you'd rather have him in bed with you, reading that old torn copy of Lord of The Rings rather than a phone call, but you're just glad he even has the time and energy to do so.

It was hard for the both of you, many times the two of you cried together, confessing the horrible ache that nestled itself in your hearts. You felt terrible, never being able to visit him because your schedule didn't line up with his. That's when you decided you were going to take a week off, fly to whatever city he was in, and surprise him.

With the help of Steve, who pretty much taught you the in's and out's of flying, and the band's personal assistant, you were able to buy a ticket to New York where CC would be performing their final show. That night when Eddie called you, you were buzzing with excitement and it killed you not being able to tell him.

On the way to Eddie's hotel was nerve racking. What would he think of you? Will he like how you changed your hair? Will he be shocked with how much I changed? You wondered how different he looked since the last time he saw you, the only way you got to see him was through your tv or on a cover of a magazine, and you never know how accurate those things can be.

__

Standing in front of his hotel room was daunting, blood rushing to your ears as your anxiety reached a whole new level. It felt like you never met him before, like he hasn't seen every single part of you or known you since he was a young man. The shakiness of your hands were only getting worse the longer you sat there, you decide it was now or never.

Raising one hand to the peephole, blocking it with your finger so he wouldn't be able to see, you use the other hand to knock on the heavy door.

"Housekeeping!" You disguise your voice the best way you can, making it high pitched and nasally.

Knocking once more, you cringe when you do it harder than before, remembering that he's probably tired from all the travel he's been through.

"Housekeeping!!" Still using the fake voice, trying to soften the blow of your heavy hand you sing the last little bit of the word.

From behind the door you can hear shuffling, yet there was no footsteps heard.

Raising your fist once more, you knock again and this time you can hear him shout something back.

"GO AWAY!" It comes muffled through the door that separates the two of you.

"Good morning, it's housekeeping!!" you cover your mouth with you hand trying to stifle the giggle that fall from your lips, knowing your husband is probably cursing to himself in anger.

Eddie's heavy footsteps and huffing are the only things coming from the room, then the door is being swung open causing the land that was leaning on it to fall dramatically.

In front of you is the man you married, hair messy from sleep, plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, and bare chest on display. He looked so pretty, rubbing his closed eyes with the palm of his hands, pink lips jutting out in a pout, and puffy cheeks.

"I already told you to go the f-" Cracking one of his eyes open to adjust to the harsh light of the hallway, he finally sees you.

"Baby?" His raspy voice in a whisper, like he's questioning if you're real or not. Tired eyes that were once too heavy to open are now bulging out of his head, cartoonish and wild.

"Hi, Teddy." You whisper back, a saccharine smile breaking out on your face.

The air that once lived in your lungs are quickly punched out the moment he lunges towards you, gripping you up and twirling you around. In the middle of a swanky New York hotel, the two of you hold on each other, squeezing tightly to make sure that neither of you will float away in the clouds of a realistic dream.

"My baby, my beautiful girl," You hear it before you see it, the thickness of his sleepy voice does nothing to hide the shakiness. The tears of mourning you, fall from his eyes hitting the exposed part of your neck where he finds solace.

"I'm here, Teddy. I'm here." The dam you've built to hold back your own tears, has finally busted open. The tears of long nights and a cold bed fall onto his warm skin, the one thing you wished to feel once more.

Moving apart slightly, big brown eyes finally meet your own, taking in the imagine of the people they love the most. Teary eyes and stuffy noses, wobbling lips and heavy breathing, two souls reuniting after too much time away from each other.

Planting his forehead to yours, you bask in the feeling of being close. Eddie's warm lips touch yours, a sweet and tear soaked kiss makes you melt.

"I missed you so much, angel." He confesses, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.

"I know the feeling." You joke and the both of your share a laugh.

"You know," he whispers, forehead still touching your own, "I want to be mad that I'm up at the ass crack of dawn, but you're such a beautiful sight to be woken up to." A gooey smile spreads on his lips and like a yawn, you mimic his actions.

"So you're not interested in housecleaning services this early in the morning?" You question and he snorts at your bad attempt of a joke.

"Angel, you know me better than that." He says and you roll your eyes.

"Now," Eddie lets you down gently, your feet returning to the carpeted floor. "If you don't mind, I would love nothing more than to fall asleep with the sexiest woman in the world."

Leading you into his room, he proves his point by slapping your ass hard. When you turn around to chastise him, you're met with him biting his bottom lip and his gaze still on your ass.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna have so much fun with you." The morning rasp in his voice is replaced with a husky, lust soaked hunger.

Tossing you, lovingly, on the bed, Eddie pounces on you like a tiger. Attacking you with kisses, you try to push him off as best as you can, weak from all your laughter.

"Teddy, I still have to shower!" You shout causing him to pause over you. Catching your breath, you run your hand up and down his arm softly. "I still have yucky airport on me."

Eddie leans down and licks your cheek and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "Oh yeah, that's my favorite flavor."

"You're such a dork." You tell him and he only smiles bigger down at you.

"Yeah but I'm your dork, Mrs. Munson."

__

The morning was spent with discovering each other again, not just physically but emotionally. You update him on the kids at your daycare and new Hawkins drama, while he tells you about the antics the boys have gotten into and all the cool stories from this tour.

You missed it, the simplicity of marriage. Even through all the time spent apart is torture, you still find the beauty in the small moments. Like the thirty cent noodles, you enjoy the peace and comfort of whispers passed back and forth a room that isn't your own.

All the bliss you felt from this morning has now been flushed out, now replaced with the roaring waters of doubt. You watch your husband on stage, singing songs he wrote, like you did way back when. This time the crowd isn't just drunk bar patrons, it's beautiful woman screaming his name.

They're all perfect, tiny bodies and big breasts, full hair and flawless makeup. They're everything you're not, everything you never will be. This was the one part of the job you never read about in your how to guide. This was the one thing you forgot to teach yourself about, how to handle millions of woman fawning over your man.

You weren't naïve of course, you knew that the guys had groupies, but you liked to push that into the back of your mind. You trusted Eddie more than anything, you knew he would never do anything to ruin your marriage, but that wasn't the part that had you so upset.

It was the idea of not being good enough that was eating away at you. Like everyone else in the world, you had insecurities. You went through stages with your self consciousness, earning a few battle wounds to your confidence along the way, but over time you became comfortable in your own skin.

This wasn't Hawkins though, this was the big city, and your "small town pretty" is no good here. All of the woman here could chew you up and spit you out, beating you out by miles in a beauty contest.

Your self hatred starts to write over the happy memory of watching Eddie on the biggest stage you've ever seen. Embarrassment fills your body, numbing you from head to toe. You feel so stupid, the clothes you wear are nothing compared to what they wear, you probably look like a clown in the makeup on your face, and your hair is probably flat and dull now.

This wasn't what you signed up for, this isn't in the job description when you sign on to be a rockstar’s wife. You already have to worry about the safety of not only your husband but the rest of the boys too. You worry about Eddie and if he's eating enough, if he's getting enough sleep, and if he's taking care of himself. There is already so much on your plate and you don't think you can handle worrying about the fact that you're not good enough.

The wave of guilt hits you when you look back over to your husband. His beauty is powerful, sometimes it makes you want to cry how pretty he is, and you know deep down he deserves better. Rockstar Eddie Munson deserves a girl that looks like one of them, not someone like you. It makes bile rise in your throat when you think about how he has to watch his friends pick up women from different cities and he has to sit by himself because his old ball and chain is all the way back in nowhereville.

Having a front row seat of your own demise is too much, deciding it would be better to watch on the monitor in the green room. When you're finally alone, it doesn't get any better. The large mirror that hangs on the wall captures your attention, calling to you like a siren to a fisherman.

Taking a seat, you begin to pick apart every single detail of your face. You criticize the shape of your eyes and where they sit, the length of your nose and how the shape sits weird, and how the pores that sit on your skin are way bigger than you remember.

The loud voice in your head pleads with you, begging you to stop before it's too late. "DON'T RUIN THIS" it screams and the demons that have overtaken your mind push it away, not wanting reason to ruin their demolishing.

When the guys enter the room, you realize you've been staring in the mirror for longer than you intended, almost like you were hypnotized.

"What a great fucking show!" Gareth announces as he grabs a beer from the mini fridge in the corner of the room.

"I agree." Grant says as he plops down on one of the leather sofas, exhaling loudly as the adrenaline crashes through him.

"This crowd was definitely the loudest one we've had." Jeff's voice is louder than he thinks. Clapping his hands together, he signals at Gareth to throw him a beer.

"So, what do you two lovebirds plan on doing now that touring is over?" Grant asks, leaning up from his slumped position to look over at you.

Eddie wipes his neck and face off with a towel, stalking over to you with a blissed out look on his face. Leaning down to you, he places a sloppy kiss on your forehead, removing with a loud 'mwah' sound when he does.

"I planned on taking my girl around the city before we head back home." Eddie is still looking down at you, almost like he's questioning you if it's fine with you.

Returning a fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice it doesn't reach your eyes, you nod your head to let him know you approve. A guttural moan pulls your attention to the brown haired boy over who's now sitting on the opposite couch of Grant and Jeff.

"You two are grossly in love, it actually makes me sick." Gareth rolls his eyes and the roar of chuckles ring out in the room.

"You act like we don't have a line of hot ass babes waiting for us." Jeff laughs and Gareth hums as he swallows the sip of alcohol.

"Very true, Jeff. Very fucking true." The boy laughs in agreement.

You know that their comments hold no malice to you but it stings all the same. All you heard was, "Too bad for Eddie, we get to fuck hot girls while he's left with that." It loops through your head, digging a deeper hole, bringing up every bad thought you've ever thought about yourself in the twenty something years you've been alive.

Everyone continues to talk, laughing and joking like they always do and the only thing you can do is get lost inside the storm that tears through your body. The feeling of Eddie's fingers dragging along the skin on the back of your neck has long been forgotten. The voices have all gone muffled, your own demons speaking loudly over them to even try to understand what they're talking about.

"Angel?" Eddie calls and it brings you out of the darkness of your brain.

You hum, craning your neck up to look at him. He's breathtaking, you think, even in the horrible lighting of this dressing room he looks perfect and it crushes you even more.

"You 'kay? Haven't really said much." He says, only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting to bring unwanted attention.

"M'fine, just kind of tired." You shrug. Flashing those pretty teeth at you, he smiles and it makes you sick with love.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I know I didn't give you much time to recover from the flight... and other things." He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a light shove from you.

Leaning down once more, he captures your lips in a loving kiss and a small portion of the tension in your body fades.

"See, I told you! Sickening!" Gareth shouts, his arm stretched out and hand face up, directing everyone's eyes to the two of you.

Bashfully, you shove your face into Eddie's stomach to hide. Draping his one arm on your back, he twists his body slightly to look at the others.

"Gareth, you're clearly jealous I get to kiss my smokin' hot wife." Eddie shouts, and a collection of groans fill the room.

If only you could believe the nice words your husband said.

__

That night in the hotel room, you tell Eddie you're simply too tired to partake in any sexual acts, which he doesn't protest. Laying in the comfort of his strong arms arms, the thoughts are too loud to melt away to sleep. You wonder what Eddie dreams of as you lay awake, if he ever regrets marrying you, and if he wishes he could partake in the same things as the guys. You cry softly, tears pooling on the fabric of your pillow, praying to whoever to is listening to make it better.

The next morning, Eddie is like the energizer bunny when he wakes you up from your four hour sleep. Going to the local diner down the street, Eddie talks about how fun the show was, moving his hands dramatically as he retells you every detail. You try to look interested, smiling and laughing when needed but truthfully you aren't paying attention, you don't even chastise him when he speaks with a mouth full of food.

Afterwards, he shows you around the city and all the sights it offers. It pains you that you can't even enjoy it, too focused on everyone else around you, comparing yourself to every woman that walks past.

Eddie notices, he's noticed since last night but he didn't say anything. At first he genuinely thought you were tired since you never really traveled before, but when you sat across from him at the diner and poked at the food on your plate, he knew. Despite what a lot of people thought, Eddie wasn't stupid. There are many things he had knowledge on and his best subject was you.

He didn't know what was particularly bothering you but he knew all too well. You were in your head about something, beating yourself up about something that wasn't worth the fight, but he knew you could make it out. You always did.

The problem was you didn't fight out of this one. You stayed locked away in the torture chamber that was your mind and let the problem eat you alive. Eddie did everything you always talked about doing, showing you the places you dreamed about and you still didn't crack.

When you returned back to the hotel room, it was oddly quiet. Even Eddie who never stopped talking, was scarily silent. Sitting down on the bed, you started to talk off your shoes, working at the laces slowly.

Eddie stands in the doorway, leaning his body weight on the wall for support. His gaze burns into you, uncomfortably so and you're terrified to even look back at him.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His tone is serious and it terrifies you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and his features are harsh, waiting for an answer.

"I told you, I'm tired." You lie right through your teeth and like a metal detector he catches it, scoffing loudly and shaking his head.

"I need you to cut the shit, Angel. What is wrong?" He questions again and it ignites a fire within you.

"I told you, I'm fucking tired Eddie. Sorry I'm not you, I don't travel the world for a living." You snap at him.

"Are you- What the fuck did I do?" He argues back and you sigh heavily. This isn't how you wanted it to go but all the emotion from the past four years are coming out in knife like jabs.

"What the fuck did I do," You mock him. "What did you do? I'll tell you what the fuck you did. You left me, you fucking left me. Don't worry Eds, I'm happy for you, trust me. I love knowing that I'm the old ball and chain back home that keeps you from fucking groupies. But it's fine if you look, just not touch, right?"

When you're done you feel worse than before. Eddie stares at you, frown pulling on his lips and big glossy eyes that stare back at you. God, you want to kick yourself for making him feel like shit. This all could've been prevented if you just talked to him, let him in on what was happening but no, the demons won and they shot Eddie down while doing it. The worst part is, you pulled the trigger.

"Is that what you think?" His voice is small, something you've never heard from him and it breaks your heart.

"Fuck- I didn't mean that. I just-" Closing your eyes, you try to compose yourself but it doesn't work. "I just miss you so fucking much. Last night I couldn't even enjoy the show because all the tits that were on display in the front row distracted me. All I could think was 'how could he want me when all of these beautiful woman are better than me?'"

"So instead of watching the end of the show, I sat in front of the mirror and made a list of every ugly thing about me. My body, my face, my voice, every fucking thing about me is horrendous. Then when the guys mentioned fucking groupies, I felt so guilty 'cause while they're out havin fun, you have to sit there all alone because I'm all the way in Hawkins."

It all comes out like word vomit, laying on the floor of the hotel room, filling the room with the stench. Your ugly truths are now out there, you're so fucking vulnerable and all you want to do is hide.

"Are you dumb?" Eddie's voice brings you out of your pity party. Staring at him in shock, you can see his own tears staining his face.

"Do you realize that it kills me not being with you? Every city we go to, all I can think about is you and how much I want to take you there. Those girls you're talking about, the ones the guys screw around with? Yeah, I've seen them and let me tell you, they're gross." Stalking the short distance, he takes a seat right next to you on the bed.

"Do I get jealous because they get to have sex? Absolutely. It's not 'cause of the girls they bring home, it's cause I wish it were you. So many nights I laid awake, jerking off to the thought of you and it was way better than any fucking groupie could do for me." You snort at his admission, rolling your eyes still not believing. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your attention up to him.

"I'm so fucking serious, Angel. I'm so in love with you, it's maddening. Sometimes when I call you, I can't help but blush like I'm back in the ninth grade again. It blows my mind every single day that I got to marry the gorgeous girl from Click's class." His words are like warm butter, melting over you and seeping into your skin.

"Do you really mean that?" It's meek and unsure, like you're scared of what the answer could be.

"Cross my heart." He simply says, marking an 'X' over his heart with the tip of his finger.

Sniffling loudly, you wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Teddy." You say and he hums, resting his forehead on your just like he did twenty four hours before.

"It's okay, baby. Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes." Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he laughs at the scowl on your face.

"Not like that, baby. I just mean, I get scared one of those hot dads are gonna try to pull a move on you when they drop their kid off." Between the serious look on his face and the honesty in his voice, you can't help but cackle.

"Eddie, who exactly would pull a move? Mr. Gardner? He's like forty and wears a very bad toupee." Eddie tries to cover the snort that comes out with a fake a cough.

"Hey, maybe you're into that kind of thing." He simply shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Settling into a comfortable silence, Eddie kisses you lightly and you pout when he pulls away.

"Can I show you how much I love you?" Your eyes scan his face for a moment before nodding.

"Please." That's all he needs to hear before he's placing you on your back, your head being cradled by the soft cotton pillows.

Eddie starts by kissing you, sweet and slow, reminiscent to the time you and him lost your virginities. The only difference about this time is he knows what he’s doing, confident in the way he glides his tongue against yours.

Moving his attention along your jawline, he places small lingering pecks down your neck. His hand moves down the sides of your body, finding purchase on the bottom of your shirt where he tugs softly on the material. Getting the hint, you sit up and help him pull the garment over your head, your bra is quick to follow.

Laying you back down on the soft cotton of the pillows, he continues his journey down your body. Soft lips leaving prints of love along your collarbones and down your sternum, invisible prints of love collect on your skin where they burn bright and settle into your bones.

“My sweet girl.” He trails more kisses around the doughy flesh of your breast.

Finding the hardened nipple, he swirls his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling off with a pop.

“My beautiful girl.” Moving his attention to the other breast, he repeats the same motions from before.

Moving down your tummy, he continues to map out his journey, leaving lingering tattoos onto your skin. Finally making it to his destination, he toys with the waistband of your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down.

Lifting your hips, you assist him in taking of the restrictive clothing. In one swift action, he rips off the jeans and panties that once covered you. Feeling exposed and shy, you whimper up at him to get his attention.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His tone is concerned and it makes you pout even more.

Wordlessly, you reach your hand down to grab the hem of his shirt where you yank gently. Catching your drift, Eddie pulls it over his head and let’s it fall to the ground where the rest of your close reside.

“You were feelin’ shy, huh?” You nod at his question and he leans up to press his lips to the tip of your nose. “Gotta make sure my girl is comfy.”

Shuffling himself onto his tummy, he places your legs over his shoulders so he can be face to face with your glistening sex.

Kissing the inside of both of your thighs, you squirm trying to move him to the one place you need him most. Tsking loudly, he looks up at you with a correcting gaze.

“Be patient,” he scolds and you listen, biting back your fussing and fidgeting.

A deft finger runs up your slit, moving your slick around as it does. “This pretty cunt is so miserable, huh? She’s sad without me there to make her feel better.”

Taking two of his fingers, Eddie spreads you open to exposing your core causing you to hiss when the cold air hits you.

A swift lick of his tongue hits you like a bullet train, all at once it’s too much but not enough. A sob leaves your throat when he stops, glassy eyes meeting the dark one of your husbands, pleading with him for more.

“You know,” While the pad of his thumb over your aching clit, he continues to keep eye contact with you, “I don’t like when you talk badly about my wife.”

“The strong, smart, loving, and breathtaking woman I married,” He continues his ministrations, not using his other hand to trace around your hole, “Doesn’t deserve to be talked badly about.”

He continues teasing you, not inserting his fingers into your clenching hole and not giving your bundle of nerves enough pressure. He’s making you sweat it out and you think you might die.

He coos sweetly at you, faux pity on his features as he does. “I know, honey. S’it hurt? Want me to make you feel better?”

“Please, Teddy. Please please please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears though, Eddie just continues his evil plan of torture.

“I’ll make it better,” Putting his mouth close to your cunt, you can feel his warm breath and you shy in relief. Moving away quickly, he looks back up at you and you fight the urge to yell at him. “But first, I want you to say you’re beautiful.”

“Wha- Eddie, no! Just fucking- God, just eat me out already!” You yell and he mocks you by laughing.

“Baby, I can leave you high and dry and be perfectly fine. So unless you want to get yourself off, I suggest you do what I say.” Although you know Eddie would never make you take care of yourself, his threat hits you like a lightning strike. His cool demeanor and stoic tone makes you believe every word he said.

“I’m beautiful.” It comes out in a whisper, so low he barely catches it.

“Nuh-uh, say it louder.” Eddie corrects you and the buzzing feeling over embarrassment burns your cheeks.

“I’m beautiful.” This time it’s louder but you don’t sound convincing.

“I want you to believe it. Want you to be nice to my wife.”

Something about the words being said to you makes your heart beam. All of Eddie’s statements to you have been chipping away at the guarded walls of your mind, casting light on the darkness that overshadows it. You start to believe him, you start to let the positive and loving words bring you out of the insecurities that plague your thoughts.

“I’m beautiful.”

You say it at the same volume but this time something in your eyes let’s Eddie know you believe the words you say. The glimmer of light that disappeared 24 hours ago, has finally returned to its rightful spot.

“There’s my girl.” Dimples flash at you before he dives right into you.

Eddie’s tongue replaces his thumb, adding more pressure to the pulsating spot. The finger that once teased you, is not fully seated in you, curled just right while it pumps in and out of you.

He’s not doing much, basically just warming you up for what’s to come, but something about it lights you on fire. The adoration Eddie has for you is being poured into your heart, lighting your body in a glow that he only manages to bring out of you.

Your moans grow louder when Eddie starts sucking on your clit, another finger shoved inside of you moving in and out in a faster speed than before.

You arch off of the bed like you’ve been possessed, whimpering and withering around making Eddie use his unoccupied hand to push you back down.

“Shit, you’re s’tight.” Eddie’s voice comes out slurred, drunk off of the taste of you.

“You gettin’ close? You gonna cum for me, Angel?” You don’t have the energy to answer, too lost in the feeling of your stomach tightening.

Slowing down the speed of his fingers, you huff in aggravation. Eddie’s voice pulls you back down to reality, your bliss slowly starting to fade away.

“I’ll let you cum if you say you’re perfect.” Lifting up on your elbows, you look down to see him already staring at you.

“Eddie I’m not-“ You’re immediately cut off by him, his tone more commanding than before.

“Say it, or you won’t cum at all. I just want to hear you say it.” He begs, his pace starting to quicken and his thumb now going in figure 8’s on your clit.

You’re quickly hurdled back to the euphoria you were just pulled out of. Eyes rolling around in your head, whining as the string in your stomach pulls tighter.

“I’m, shit- M’perfect. Your perfect wife.” You’re a blabbering mess, head thrashing back and forth in ecstasy.

“I’m gonna cum. Teddy, please!” You beg and he gives you exactly what you want.

“Go ‘head, Angel, let go f’me.” With one last stroke on that sweet spot, you’re catapulted into the paradise of your release.

It feels like you’re floating above the clouds, weightless and free. You don’t feel the gush that splashes your thighs or the sheets, and the voice of your husband is nothing but an angelic voice ringing out.

You return back down to the soft mattress, boneless and melting into the bed. When your breathing calms and you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you’re met with a Cheshire Cat like smile and the soaking face of your husband.

“You did such a good job for me baby,” Kissing you sweetly, you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away slowly, you bring your arm to his pants, rubbing your palm along the outline of his hard cock.

Shaking his head, he gently grabs your wrist and puts it above your head. “This is about you, Angel. Wanna make you feel good.”

A quiet okay leaves your lips and he continues to work himself out of his pants, letting his dick bounce out of its confides. Saliva pools in your mouth, the desire to taste him takes over and you whimper.

Chuckling at your pouty face, he moves back between your legs that you parted for him. When he runs the tip of his aching cock through your folds, you both hiss on contact.

Lining himself up, Eddie brings his hand to your hip where he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. Both of you moan in unison when he finally breaches your entrance, a feeling neither of you have gotten used to.

Pushing himself further into you, he takes his time to let you adjust to his size, something you still haven’t gotten used to. He stretches you out so nicely, filling you up like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Nothing can compare to him, every bump and ridge of his cock making it even better.

Lacing his fingers into yours, he hovers over you as he starts thrusting slowly into you. A choir of moans are made between the two of you, singing a song better than anything Eddie’s ever written.

With the way your legs are wrapped around his waist, you try to push him in deeper, wanting to stay this close with him forever. This isn’t just about fucking or getting off, this is about the man you fell in love with all those years ago and how he’s appreciating you. He’s trying to show you just how much his heart yearns for you.

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me.” Eddie pants heavily as he thrusts the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix just right.

“Always so good f’me, Angel. You take such good care of me, such a good wife for me.” He’s babbling at this point, reaching the tipping point faster than he thought.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, all you can think about is how much love you love each other, how good he’s making you feel, and how he was able to pull you out of the darkness of your horrible thought.

Removing his hand from yours, he snakes it down your body to find you abandoned clit. With the added pleasure, you clench harder around him and the air in your lungs seeps out in a high pitched gasp.

“I can’t wait to fuck my load into you, baby. Gonna get you nice n’ round, show everyone you’re mine. You want that? Want me to fuck a baby in you?” His voice echoes in your ears and travels down into the pit of your belly, getting you closer to the edge.

“I wan’ it, s-so bad, Teddy. Wanna feel it.” You’re babbling, toes curling at you tippy toe over the line of your orgasm.

“F-fuck you sound so pretty when you beg. Come on, Angel, cum for me.”

And just like that, both of you unravel together. Him painting your walls in his release, while you guys around him. Eddie works both of you through your highs, thrusting sloppy and lazily into you until he can’t anymore.

Eddie doesn’t pull out of you right away, not wanting to let go of the feeling so soon. He lays on your chest, trying to settle his breathing as best as he can. Bringing a hand to the top of his head, you rake your nails softly into his hair.

Humming in delight, Eddie kisses your chest as a thank you. A small blip of time in a long year, the kind that makes the bad days all worth it. The secrets whispered in hotels and lingering trail that still burns on your skin, invisible kiss marks left for reminders.

It’s worth it, all the hardships and long months, when you know he’ll always find his way back to you. The sweet boy from 9th grade that promised his heart to you, now sings his undying love to you for thousands of crowds to hear.

More tears leave your eyes, not in sadness but in pure happiness. You’re so fucking in love with him and sickeningly so, just like Gareth said.

Swiveling his head up to you, Eddie rests his chin lightly on your chest.

“Hi.” He says meekly.

Eddie doesn’t question your tears because he has tears of his own and he knows they’re for the same reason.

“Hi.” You parrot back to him, a wet smile adorning your lips.

“Do you believe me now?” Sweet brown eyes pulls you in, sucking you in as they stare at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You reassure and he smiles.

Using his free hand, Eddie takes his finger to trace shapes over your heart. You melt when you feel him draw a heart with your initials and his on the inside.

“I wanted to tell you,” He flits his eyes down to his finger where it doodles on your skin, “the guys and I have a break now that tours over. So I was thinking..”

A pregnant pause settles between his statement and he makes no moves to finish it. It reminds you of the first time he asked you on a date, nervous and fidgety.

“What is it, Teddy?” Lifting his chin with your fingers, you raise an eyebrow to coax him into answering.

“I was thinkin’ maybe we could try, ya know, for a family or somethin’. “ Eddie’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are coated in a pink blush.

Your heart picks up and you know that Eddie can feel it under his finger. Smiling with all your teeth, you cheeks ache from the stretch.

“You wanna have kids with me?” Your voice is only a whisper and he giggles at you.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed but, I just blew my whole load inside of you.” The bluntness of his statement makes your cheeks burn. Slapping your hands over your face, you cover yourself from the embarrassment

“Hey, don’t need to get all shy on me now,” Pulling your hands away from your face, he smiles smugly at you. “If I recall correctly you were the one all like “yes Teddy ugh please!!”.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.

“Bye the way, I’ve been counting every eye roll since you got here and I promise your in trouble when we get home.” He points and accusatory finger at you causing you to clench around him.

“I love you, Teddy. Thank you.” You place a kiss to his lips and he smiles brightly at you.

“Don’t need to thank me, baby. I’m glad I’m here to remind you.” Pecking your lips once more, he pulls a way with an even bigger smile.

“Also, I love you too, Mrs. Munson.”

-

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[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[autumn-hiraeth]

Tightrope

Hobie brown x fem!reader

fluff, slight nsfw and angst. Headcanons. Second part

Summary: You hope that you and Hobie last but you know, you never know.

a/n: i had to write something angsty. hobie and reader are in their 20's btw. & about the bonus.. well, hope you can figure out what the last line implies (it was necessary for the plot 'cuz i love the drama). Guys if you want a second part give me ideas pls

Hobie's Masterlist

Loving a guy like Hobie Brown is always hard, and the current status is even harder to explain. You're the only one in the Spider punk universe who knows his identity, which means you two are very close. So after every fight Hobie sneaks out your window, it's kind of routine, but you still never stop worrying when he shows up at your flat all beaten up and bleeding for you to fix him.

But Hobie takes it upon himself to ease the tension by making jokes and flirting; which always leads to Hobie buried deep inside you; whether it's in your mouth or pussy that doesn't give you time to question what that means for both of you. Hobie Brown makes you feel so confused 'cause you know he's not interested in loving someone or having a girlfriend ( this guy hates labels and all that bullshit) but then he looks at you like you're his everything and even though he doesn't verbally express it, he expresses it through physical contact, when you two have sex and he whispers to you how perfect you are for him and how he wants to have you by his side forever.

Then all those moments shared in your room under the moonlight make you fall in love with Hobie. And one night you confess him, an "I love you" leaves your lips, you're moaning 'cause Hobie is still going in and out of you at a brutal rhythm that makes you see stars. And Hobie listens you profess your love for him, but he doesn't say anything and kisses you instead, but inside he's so happy 'cause he loves you too and even though he doesn't tell you; he shows you how much he loves you so Hobie makes you feel loved all night.

But he's not willing to lose you, he's been in spider society long enough to know what could happen to you if the two of you are together and even though Hobie doesn't believe in all the bullshit about canon events he doesn't want to risk ending up like the others spider-men. No matter how much he loves you. So the next morning Hobie leaves you asleep in your bed and though the longing is strong to stay with you until you wake up to maybe make love to you one more time and then the breakfast, he leaves but not before whispering " I love you too Y/n.

And he doesn't come back that night, or the next and just disappears leaving you heartbroken, hoping you don't hate him for making fall in love and then leaving you. Hobie hopes that maybe one day their paths will meet again and he'll be brave enough to take a chance on you. + b o n u s However, little does Hobie know that the day he left you, he also left you someone to remember him forever.

[chastiefoul]

blurb.

WRIOTHESLEY, who's so exhausted on reprimanding you about coming down too often to fortress of meropide. it's true that it's generally a safe place for someone to roam around with guards scattered across the posts, however wriothesley is a natural worrier. though most of the prisoners are working honestly towards a better second chance at freedom, there are many many of them who still lived up to their label when their hands were bound behind their backs with a cuff; a criminal. and if there's anything he won't take chances on, it's your wellbeing.

and finally after the nth time you leisurely visited him on his office, he finally made up his mind. "(y/n), it's time for an intervention." he said firmly, standing in front of you who's currently all snugged and reading a book.

the thought of you being so comfortable in his office nearly made him punch his table out of cute aggression yet he held it. he knelt in front of you.

"intervention? i agree, you've been drinking way too much tea oh, and don't get me started on your office decoration-" you started listing off things before he coughed distractingly, cutting you of.

"yours. your intervention."

"oh? wait what did i do?" you raised an eyebrow. "...coming down here too much?" even wriothesley himself started to hesitate. "what are you implying here?" you frowned. "nothing except my concern for your safety." the black-haired man planted little kisses along your hand, getting distracted. cause. its in front of him, what's he gonna do?

"i'm fine, though?" you cupped his face with the both of your hand, kissing him. "yes, but." he sighed, putting his head on your thigh the proximity tickled your stomach. "but?" you stroke his hair, trying to get his signature hair spikes to behave but it always bounced right back. "worried that some bad guy would take you," he mumbled, his words all jumbled now from the simple happiness he's currently indulging in. "oh no, the prisoners will be so sad if they hear their gracious duke calling them bad guys," you laughed playfully, your hand didn't stop combing through his locks. the said man just closed his eyes in pure bliss; your gentle touch, the whispers of your voice.

"they'll live," he said while snuggling closer, the top of his head touching your stomach. before you responded he continued.

"what won't survive is my little and fragile heart if i keep seeing you come here so relaxed and unprotected."

well why would you not feel relaxed? and what's with the protection talk?

"i have you, no?" you gently said, and you could've sworn both tips of his hair perked up a little?

he got up from his position, sitting beside you. chuckling as though defeated he then said, "yes. yes you do. you're right. i just can't win against you can i?" he smiled, his features grew serene.

"anything else you wanna say to me, wriothesley?"

"......can you come here everyday?"

[yourfatherlucifer]

The Villain (HJ)

villain!hongjoong x good girl!reader

Summary: Being the towns local good girl, you caught the eye of the towns big bad villain, and he NEEDS you. He WANTS you. So he takes what he wants.

Warnings: MDNI, EVIL JOONG IS A BIG RED FLAG, rough, getting caught, choking, pwp, mention of breeding, monster sized cock joong,

WC: 1,291

AU: hero/villain

Genre: SMUT

tags: @nebulousbrainsoup @jay-scenarios @wooyoungqueen @ad0rechuu @staytinyville @pyeonghongrie-main @yunho-mp3

nets: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @k-labels @kflixnet @pirateeznet

BRAIN GO BRRR, this could've been better but oh well.

Part two

With your flowy skirts and pretty attitude, you are the town's local good girl, everyone loved you. You always helped in any way you could, which meant the towns hero, Hwa, his alias, fell in love with you. However, you also caught the eye of another, Kim Hongjoong, the villain.

He used to be a happy man, but then things started not going his way, he became a brat. He started rebelling, setting things aflame. Destroying things across town, it started out as little things, then it started to progress when Hwa started getting in his way. The two used to be friends but then Hongjoong's ways became evil. Seonghwa always got what he wanted, never Hongjoong. So, they became enemies. Trying to take each other out at any chance they got.

Trying to off each other, even pining after the same girl.

That's where you come in.

Trudging yourself across town, books in hand, a man stepped in front of you, "Oh, Seonghwa! Hi!"

Red flashed across his face, 'Hey, Y/N, I was wondering, would you maybe wanna go on a date with me on Saturday?"

You switched your heavy books to one hand to scratch the back of your neck, "I can't, I have things I have to do, Seonghwa. I'm sorry. Maybe some other time?"

He was constantly trying to woo you, but never could accomplish such an easy task. Were you playing hard to get? No..you were too sweet for that. Right?

Of course, however, despite your sweet and happy persona. You liked bad things, you loved the bad prospects, you liked bad boys. Seonghwa was just far too good for you. You could never let anyone know that though, everyone would dismiss you as the good girl.

They would wonder, 'Who could corrupt such a nice thing?'

Kim Hongjoong. That is who.

With his mean acts, his evil smirk, his pretty eyes. You fell in love with him, but alas, why would he want you? You're too nice for your own good.

You had seen him around in school before he became the villain, he was the outcast, but you liked that about him. You wanted to befriend him. Your parents and friends alike wouldn't let you. They always thought something was wrong with him. They were right. He's evil incarnate, but that made you fall harder. You yearned for him, for his touch for him to tell you all the things he would do to you.

"I see, that's alright, Y/N. I'll see you around." Seonghwa smiled and left you alone in the street.

You rolled your eyes at his goody-two-shoes attitude, yes, you were the same, but you only behaved such a way as to not disappoint your family.

Little did you know though, Hongjoong DID want you, he saw you as the girl he wanted to corrupt, he didn't know your true thoughts of course.

He thought you only want Seonghwa, even more mad that Seonghwa got what he wanted.

But he saw you. Saw you just reject Seonghwa. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. He won. He finally won.

Hongjoong watched you walk into an alley, so he followed you. He was ready to finally confront you.

As you made your way down the cramped buildings, you could hear footsteps behind you, so you quickened your pace.

"Wait! Y/N." A voice you haven't heard in years called out to you.

You turned on your heel to face him, "Hongjoong?"

He didn't smile, just nodded, "Hey. It's good to see you."

You took this time to smile, "You as well."

He stepped up closer to you and you didn't move from your spot, "I'm surprised you aren't running."

"Why would I run?"

"Cuz' I'm the villain of the town?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"Okay, and?"

Hongjoong laughed deeply, it was so attractive to you. He gave you his signature smirk, before placing his hands on your waist, he could see in your eyes that you wanted him.

He wanted you too.

"So, shall we go back to what you could say, is my evil lair?"

You laughed and nodded, "Yes, Joong, I'd love to."

--

The second you stepped into his lavish mansion, he slammed you into the wall, his lips attacking your neck. Nipping and pulling at the skin to create the biggest marks anyone has seen. Hwa will know that you are taken. He will never have you. Hongjoong will make sure of it.

He tapped your thighs for you to jump up.

He carried you through many halls, many staircases, the strength on this man was so unforgivingly hot.

The second he reached a certain room, the cold air affected your nipples. They hardened within a second.

It was in fact, his lair.

Machines lined the walls, a few couches strung about, but in the middle of the room sat a large metal slabbed table.

"Strip." He sets you down, in a demanding voice.

"Leave the skirt on."

He watched as you were about to pull off your flowy skirt.

Once you stood bare in everything but your skirt, he approached you, "Mmm, mine to corrupt."

Grabbing your chin with one hand, he forced you to face him, "I'm going to have you ruined for anyone else, Seonghwa will never want you when I am done with you." He whispered in your ear.

He backed you up into the table, the cold metal hitting your lower back. He quickly spun you around, bending you over the table.

He flipped up the back of the skirt and stared at your wet and warm cunt, "Is all this for me, my good girl?" His finger dipped into the dripping slick.

You moaned into the table, "A-all for you!" You could feel his well-hung cock against the back of your thighs through his slacks.

When he was done playing with your slick, he removed his belt before grabbing your wrists and tying them behind your back, "Good girls don't get to touch when it comes to me."

"I'm going to fuck you into next week, and that is a promise."

He ran his monster-sized cock along your folds, "I don't know if I really should give you what you want." He grinned evilly, alas you couldn't see it.

You were about to beg but before you could, he pushed his large cock inside, "Fucking god, so tight." He growled almost inhumanly.

he rubbed your asscheeks before beginning his descent into pleasure.

The table rock with each thrust his pushed into you, his free hand pushed you down further into the table to prevent any back arches or movements, "Take what I give you. No more, no less."

His harsh thrusts turned slow and soft as he flipped you around. His hand made his way to your throat. Once he made contact, he squeezed your throat hard, only enough to slightly choke you.

His hard thrusts returned, leaving bruises behind. The skin slapping and moans filled the room.

When his lips found yours, there was no love behind them. It was all just need.

"Should I knock you up? Yeah? For the town to see you get bred by the villain? No, I shouldn't. I hate children." He groaned into your ear.

"I will mark you, and feed you my cum, so you'll be dripping."

You wanted to hold him so bad, but could only wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you.

His thrusts were beginning to turn sloppy, "Gonna fucking fill you."

"Please, just fuck me, Joong!"

The second his warm cum spilled into you, the door to his lair burst open.

Seonghwa stood there,

"What the fuck, Y/N!"

And there was Hongjoong's signature evil smirk, he got what he wanted.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

ᴏɴʟʏ ʜɪᴍ

𝐀/𝐍: A very late oneshot for a cute request I got, I hope it's worth the wait! I'll try to be more consistent with posting, but life is throwing me actual curveballs rn, so patience is appreciated! And my LORD the wattpad-ass songs I keep picking out for these fics are always sending me- 💀✋

Also, Reader is AFAB in this one (since the wife fantasies this man has about Reader are UNTAMEABLE LMAO)

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 

. . .

There was something about Alastor that deeply intrigued you.  

He always seemed to carry suave, foreboding darkness dancing upon the edges of unpredictability with a smile as sharp as a razor. 

What others found unnerving, you labeled as charming and ‘eccentric,’ when it came to Alastor. You simply didn’t care about the worse aspects of him, or rather, you accepted them with such ease that it surprised even the most estranged of demons. 

And though he was wary of your intentions, at first, Alastor soon recognized your unusual fascination with him and determination to befriend him as quite flattering, from such an alluring young lady like yourself. So, Alastor decided to humor you and make nice with you, since it was... difficult to have a good friend, especially with his status as an Overlord, to say the least.

Apart from Rosie - who, mind you, was occupied with her Emporium most of the time - he didn't have much else in his afterlife that didn't relate to the hotel. And though this silly endeavor was proving to be quite the source of entertainment, the issue still stood.

Those below Alastor that didn’t turn tail and run at the first sound of radio static would only test his patience, whether that be at the end of Vaggie’s angelic spear or the punchline of a raunchy joke from Angel Dust. 

Suffice it to say, Alastor was grateful for your company, though he’d never admit it, and had grown terribly fond of you. 

Almost attached, one could say. Though one would be skewered and sliced open before they could finish that heinous accusation. 

Sure, Alastor had possibly grown a tender spot for you in his wretched, rotted heart, but who wouldn’t take a bit of an obsession liking to the tangles and locks of your hair that he could only dream of twisting around his red-tipped claws? Or the delicate curl of your lips as you lifted your face into a crooked smile that had burned itself into his memory, making his heart pound erratically within his chest? 

And, ah, there you are, now. Working the coffee machine and putting a polite hand to your mouth as you yawned softly, still in your pajamas with your hair amess and your eyes struggling to stay open as they fluttered, before landing on him. 

“Oh, Alastor! Good morning,” a glimpse of your small, tired smile made his heart jump to his throat as he stepped forward with his hands behind his back. 

“Good morning, my dear! And how was your night?” 

You brightened at the question, your smile growing. Yes. Give him more, give him more of your happiness, your smile-  

“Oh, it was a wonderful dream, Al’! I can’t wait to tell you all about it.” 

He leaned against the counter, preening at how his name rolled so perfectly off your tongue. “By all means, do tell, darling~." 

Alastor was none too ashamed, despite his reputation as a gentleman, that his eyes were solely trained upon your lips the entire time you spoke, his smile growing in size with each glimpse of your tongue that he could manage to catch. 

“Hm... That’s very nice, my dear,” he nodded along absentmindedly as you ranted animatedly, enjoying the brightness behind your eyes while you made yourself breakfast. 

How tempting and sweet was the visage of you, as Alastor’s sweet, doting little wife, making yourselves breakfast and waving him off to his radio tower with your delectable, kissable smile and a cup of black coffee. 

“Oh, and there was a- Al'? Alastor, are you even listening?” 

Alastor smoothly brought himself from his trance “I do believe you were going on about seeing a deer, of some kind? With fur-"

"Softer than anything I've ever felt? I'm surprised you were even able to hear me over your own thinking." You glanced over at him with concern. “You’ve been spacing out like that a lot, recently. Are you alright?” 

“Top of my game, my dear! Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d be worried over me~,” Alastor leaned forward against the counter, laying his chin upon his intertwined claws as he tilted his head up at you, grinning wider at your flustered blush.

“Well-! Of course, I’m worried about you. You’re my friend, after all...” you turned away, missing the way Alastor deflated at that cursed title that he’d seemed to acquire, despite being your closest confidant, your partner-in-crime, your partner, period.

But good things came to those who waited, Alastor supposed.

As the both of you continued to converse, you half-cringing, half-laughing at his onslaught of puns and ‘dad jokes,’ as you jokingly called them, a pair of excited hooves bounded down the hallway, and an excited princess of Hell jumped into the kitchen beside her tired girlfriend, who was still rubbing her drooping eyes. 

“Good morning, guys!” Charlie squealed as she ran across the room, collecting the different points for her plan of Project: Redemption that she had left for you to organize overnight.

“Hey, there,” Vaggie yawned softly as she slumped into the room, and You shook your head with a chuckle. Poor girl must’ve stayed up all night, listening to Charlie’s rants about her plans for the Hazbin Hotel, since its major renovations and redesign, courtesy of Lucifer himself. 

“Well, aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? What’s got you so worked up, now?” You poured Vaggie a cup of coffee and she took it with an appreciative smile. 

“Well...” Charlie looked to Vaggie, who nodded encouragingly. “My dad’s going to visit the hotel again!” She bounced on her heels, oblivious to how Alastor stiffened beside you, and you inwardly groaned.

Here we go again, you sighed tiredly as you prepared for the radio host’s snark towards the King of Hell. 

Those two had been at each other’s necks since Lucifer had offered his help in advertising the hotel, and the mere mention of the Fallen Angel’s name would set Alastor off on an hour-long rant. 

“Is that so?” Static thickened his voice with malice as his ears swerved backwards, pointed and alert as you followed them with a stifled giggle. Alastor never seemed to notice the more adorable aspects of his demonic nature, being a deer demon. Then again, he probably chose to ignore them, trying to preserve his image more than anything. 

You took a slow sip of coffee as you glanced at his backside. I wonder if he has a tail, too. 

“C’mon, Al’. It’s her dad, you can at least be a little supportive.” 

His eyes widened towards you as you shrugged. “Not you, too!”  

“Hmph! I thought you’d have the sense to at least take my side on this one. Have I not been nothing but devoted to you?" Alastor batted his eyelashes at you, pretending to pout as you snorted.

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to move in, right? You still technically have the hotel all to yourself,” you rub his shoulder in an attempt to sooth him, unaware of the surprised glance that Vaggie and Charlie shared. 

“...I suppose you’re right. At least he won't be staying here, in that gaudy apartment of his!" He laughed, referring to the apple tower that Lucifer had built when the hotel was under re-construction.

“Um, ha-ha, about that...” the princess twiddled her fingers with a strained grin, and his smile tensed further. 

“No...” your eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way... She wouldn’t! 

But it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? I mean, the hotel wouldn’t be sporting that super-subtle apple-shaped tower for nothing, right? 

“Ɏꝋᵾ ᵯēⱥꞥ ⱦꝋ ⱦēłł ᵯē, ɏꝋᵾ īꞥꝟīⱦēđ ⱦħⱥⱦ ƀⱥꞩⱦⱥɍđ ꝋꝟēɍ ⱦꝋ ꞨȾȺɎ ĦɆꞦɆ!?-” 

“Alright, alright, take five.” You sighed and looked towards Charlie, who shifted nervously in her spot as Alastor stood off to the side with palpable anger.

“I’m sorry if it’s too soon, and I know you’ve never met my dad before, but I promise, he’s just trying to help the hotel. Just... give him a chance? Please?” 

“It’s fine, I’m fine with it, but I know someone who won’t be,” with a glance towards the self-proclaimed ‘Host of the Hotel,’ you took Charlie’s hands in yours. “I’m glad that you’re reconnecting with your dad, okay? Just... warn us, next time. Specifically, warn him,” you side-eyed where the Radio Demon was scrutinizing the both of you, small voodoo sigils floating around his form with an eerie glow. 

A soft smile graced her features. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I was just so excited! Dad’s really trying, you know? And I promise, he really wants to help the hotel."

You turned towards Alastor. “Now, do you think you can settle down? For Charlie?” You avoided the word ‘behave’ for the sake of not being eviscerated on the spot. 

"Hm... Perhaps, but you must promise to stay by my side the entire time," Alastor gripped your shoulder for emphasis, and you rolled your eyes and reached up his collar.

"Alright then... I guess I can manage that."

His eyes trailed up and down your figure, and all his cultivated anger evaporated as you fixed his bowtie, clearly a bit jittery yourself. 

Lucifer may have had the hotel, hell, he could take Alastor’s place, for all he cared. He didn’t even want the blasted position in the first place, not before Lucifer challenged it. But the King of Hell didn’t - couldn’t - have you, and that alone was enough to pacify Alastor, for now. 

He shook away the confusion that came with the sudden bout of possessiveness from the thought of you so much as sharing an interaction with the Fallen Angel and dismissed you to retreat into the shadows until Lucifer arrived.

It was 1:00 P.M. on the dot, and the doors burst open as shimmering crimson light poured into the room, and the King of Hell, the infamous Fallen Angel himself stood before the newly furnished lobby with his arms widely outstretched for his much taller daughter to embrace her. 

“Charlie!” 

“Hi, Dad!” 

As the two Morningstars greeted each other with a tight hug, you almost gushed at how adorably similar they looked, despite the height difference. 

You also noted how Lucifer immediately narrowed his eyes at Alastor, gloved hands clutching his cane in a strangling grip, as if he were restraining himself from giving the radio host a beatdown with it. 

“Bellhop,” Lucifer spat without missing a beat. 

“Deadbeat,” Alastor shot back with a malicious grin.

You groaned and slapped your forehead. I just talked to him about this!

“And just who might this be?” Lucifer raised a dark eyebrow towards you, and you stepped forward – away from Alastor to his dismay – to properly introduce yourself to Charlie’s father. “A first good impression goes a long way,” as your mother liked to say. 

“Hello,” you smiled and gave Lucifer your name, side-eyeing Alastor as he scoffed heatedly at your misplaced politeness. But, in his defense, it truly was! There was no reason to pay any heed to that short-stacked, duck-loving ȼɍēⱦīꞥ!

“Oh! Yes, this is our newest resident at the hotel! She's been a big help, especially around the kitchen!" Charlie squealed with enthusiasm, practically singing your praises in front of her father and you blushed.

“It's nice to meet you," you held out your hand to shake his, and a soft smirk pulled at Lucifer’s pale features as he bent down at the waist at a perfect angle, laying a chaste, feathery kiss against the back of your hand. “Charmed, I’m sure~.” 

The king’s eyes trailed from up your waist before making heated eye contact with you, rising slowly from his bow.

The screech of a record player from behind made you flinch, but you attempted a clumsy curtsy and ignored Alastor’s rising temper, sigils flying about from the display of unearned affection. “Likewise, Your Majesty.” 

“Oh, no need for such formalities. Just Lucifer is fine, my dear."

“Oh, alright then... Lucifer.” The Fallen Angel’s smirk widened into a toothy smile that contrasted yet was quite comparable to Alastor’s terrifying grimace as he took you by the arm and pulled you along into the freshly revamped hotel lobby. 

"Charlie, you didn’t tell me such a doll was staying here! I would’ve visited sooner, you know,” the king laughed, and you chuckled along awkwardly as you glanced back at your crimson-clad friend, who was seething in his place as he watched you walk beside the king's sauntering pace, pure confidence and smugness radiating from Lucifer as Charlie smiled at you apologetically.

Alastor’s pointed ears were pinned backwards, and the raven tips of his hair sharpened as his lips rose slightly above his gums in an enraged sneer. 

“You know, I remodeled most of this place,” Lucifer grinned up at you while you looked around with appreciative eyes, and Alastor trailed closely behind the both of you, along with Charlie who looked up at him with confusion.  

“Is that so? In that case, I really must thank you for giving the kitchen a well-needed upgrade! It’s so much easier to work my way around it, now.” 

"Oho, of course, my dear! Anything for you~," he grinned devilishly up at you, chuckling at the soft blush that tinged your cheeks as the screech of radio static crackled and electrified the air.

Alastor hated it. Despised it. The way you were smiling at Lucifer like that, like you’d been friends for ages, like he’d been the one to bring you on delightful outings, make you laugh yourself sick over whiskey, pull you into spontaneous dances and be a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it most.

Not like that you'd ever gone to Alastor in such a sorrowful state, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the first that you’d go to for that kind of thing.

Why were you gushing over Lucifer? Weren’t you closer to Alastor? Didn't you like him better?

Oh, now this just won't do...

"Darling. A word?"

You nearly flinched at Alastor's seemingly cheery, yet short and clipped tone, clearly peeved at something, though you were completely clueless. Maybe Lucifer really pissed him off that much and he needed a breather?

Shaking off your nerves, you nodded politely and missed the way Alastor preened with approval, shooting Lucifer a smug glare as he placed his hand upon the small of your back and pushed you along towards a private spot in the middle of the hallway.

Alastor's ear turned in the direction of the two Morningstars as Charlie and Lucifer retreated down the hallway to his room. Once he was sure they were gone, he snatched your wrist and pulled you inside of a hotel room just left of you.

The door shut behind you both, and you tried not to tremble under Alastor's smoldering gaze while you stared up at him, confused by his sudden fury.

"So, care to explain why that pint-sized excuse of a king was cozying up to you?" The words shot like gunfire from his lips, his insults carrying the weight of bullets as Alastor towered over you while clutching his staff.

"I was only being polite..." you wrung your hands sheepishly as Alastor scoffed down at you, his smile becoming more of a curled snarl.

"And besides, why would you care so much about what Lucifer thinks of me? I'm still your friend." When your hand takes his in its warm grip, Alastor has to resist the urge to melt.

Because I don't want to be 'just your friend,' was what Alastor wanted to say. Because I want your beauty and laughter all to myself, I want you to be mine, you need to be mine-

"Because I-" Alastor took pause, as if the mere notion of caring about you more than he should stole the very breath from his lungs.

His claws reached up to caress your cheek, and you shuddered from the tickle of contact, keeping your gaze focused on him. "Because you're the only person who makes me question myself. The only person who I... who I want to call my own." The words tumbled from his lips, hesitant yet ringing pure truth and adoration for you, and Alastor looked away from you for a moment, unable to meet your gaze, impatient for your answer.

Slowly, scared that he'd disappear into the shadows and that glimmer of vulnerability would fade should you move too fast, you leaned forward into Alastor's touch, nuzzling against his palm.

"And... And if I happen to feel the same way? What would you do, then?"

Alastor's eyes widened slightly at the confession, and he took a slow few steps forward to push you up against the wall, his gaze darkened and yearning as his warm breath fanned against your lips.

"I'd tell you to be care of what you wish for, darling~."

Sharp, yellow teeth pricked, and soft, gentle lips sucked and kissed around your collarbones and neck, as Alastor shivered and rumbled ever so softly at the taste of you, the feeling of marking you as his own as you whimpered and shivered beneath him with want.

His shadow flew to the door, turning the lock with a definite click and trapping you inside with the man who'd fantasized of ravaging you since months ago, when a pretty little doe wandered into his office.

You moaned against Alastor, limply allowing one of his hands to hold your wrists above your head as his leg came between yours, and he rose to face you, lines of crimson dripping down the side of his lips.

Alastor's lips hungrily captured yours, and he made no hesitation to slip his long, black tongue beyond your lips and into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans while wetness dripped between your legs, and his own made an obscene stain against Alastor's pants.

You panted as he pulled away, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and kissing just below his jawline as he pressed his throbbing erection against you.

“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 

Alastor's hands ripped at his coat, hastily unbuttoning it from his vest before he pressed against you once more, eager to have you back in his arms.

His eyes darkened down at you as you started pulling at your blouse, desperate to pull him flush against your bare skin as he leaned over you, his slender arms caging you in beneath him.

"Oh, I'm going to devour you, ma chère... Show you just who you belong to..."

He inched closer as the sound of static grew thick in the air, tickling against your arms and making the hairs on the back of your neck rise as pure, carnal desire engulfed the both of you.

"P-Please..."

The doorknob rattled.

Knock, knock.

"Hey, uh- Is everything okay in there?" Charlie's concerned voice sounded through the door, and the both of you instantly froze, Alastor's hands still hovering over the belt buckle of his pants.

"Fuck," an irritated, animalistic growl rumbled from him, and he stood up to his full height as he glanced apologetically down at you, tilting your chin up to face him.

"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this, darling."

Alastor planted a long, heated kiss against your lips, his tongue savoring every taste of you that he could manage before he brushed out his hair and pulled his coat from the ground and back onto his shoulders.

"Not to worry..." Alastor buttoned up your blouse, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a few more moments than normally and turned on his heel and plastered his trademark smile back onto his face.

"We'll continue our little show, later."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Bet ya'll didn't expect that, huh? Caught in 4k smh

Ok, so there is a LOT going on rn and I'm trying my darndest to keep up with a consistent schedule (I say after going radio silent - pun intended - for a goddamn week) BUT I SWEAR THINGS ARE GOING UNDER WAY, chapter one of 'What A Dish, What A Doll' is getting a rewrite, I'm trying to finish more requests and headcanons, and the VOX FIC NEEDS TO BE UPDATED-

it's just a lot lmao, but y'all's patience is super appreciated!!

. . .

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[sanakimohara]

“SUREAL SATISFACTION�� K. S. Pt. 2

…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.

"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.

You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues. 

It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.

Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…

A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.

"Sign for it."

That's all he had asked you to do…

However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it. 

The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.

You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.

You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.

For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.

Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.

Elation. 

That's what coursed through you.

You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.

With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.

Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.

You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.

Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…

That was enough motivation for you.

It was all you needed.

"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.

"Click"

The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.

You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.

Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.

Coming once should be enough….

One… I only need to come once.

That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.

The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.

All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….

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

"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."

He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"

Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.

"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.

"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.

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

His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.

Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.

The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.

"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'

It's been so long. 

You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….

God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.

Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….

You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.

You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.

Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.

He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.

"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.

"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.

Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.

"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.

You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.

You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.

A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.

The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.

He'd waited for this long enough. 

You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.

"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.

The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.

He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.

"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."

You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.

"F-fine, what do you want?!.."

He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.

"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.' 

"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.

"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.

"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"

You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Yes…sir."

Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.

"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"

Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.

You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…

"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."

He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.

You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.

Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.

"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.

He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.

"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.

Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.

You. And only you…

Mind, body, & soul. 

+++++++++

TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤

I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤

[redbullgirly]

Hi! Can you write something about Lando x reader where she wants to wait till marriage to have sex and how'd he react to this? I'll leave the rest to you, it doesn't have to be a whole fic, maybe just a small blurb. Thank you <3

SAND AND CONFESSION [LN4 oneshot]

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You and Lando have been going out for few weeks, maybe months now. While you're enjoying each other's company on a beach with sunset behind your backs, you decide to tell him you want to wait with sex till marriage.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I honestly didn't write for a while, so if some sentences are kinda weird or sloppy, I'm very sorry! Don't be afraid to correct me if you find some errors.

Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I hope you and everybody else will like this shorter fic I wrote based on it. I'll appreciate likes, comments, follows, reblogs and any other form of support! :)

The sand beneath your feet was still warm, though the sun had almost set behind the fluffy clouds on the horizon. You ran up the beach, trying to get as far from the sea as you could, before the curly-haired man could throw you into the waves, messing up your hair. He followed you, laughing and almost tripping, which was probably the only reason you actually managed to escape to the laid out blanket with your things and bags.

You laid on it, your chest covered in droplets of salty water heaving with uneven breaths. Some sand probably stuck to your wet skin, but you didn't mind.

“Y/N, you left me there all alone!” Lando faked a pout, standing above you with crossed arms and a silly smile.

“Yeah, 'cause you tried to drown me!” you fired right back and stuck out your tongue.

He shook his head and stretched out his arm, helping you stand back up. Then, without any warning, he slapped your ass. You squealed his name and tried to punch him, but he dodged effortlessly. May his fast reflexes be damned.

It was getting darker by every minute, the sun now nearly gone from the evening sky. Shadows slowly crept to the beach, and you shivered in the cool air. Lando, the caring boy he was, instantly noticed the goosebumps popping up all over your body. You were both still just in your swimsuits, and it was getting cold. 

He bent down to the bag you took to the beach with you and took out a big towel. “C'mere baby,” he mumbled, and when you took a step towards him, he wrapped you and himself up in it. 

Suddenly, you didn't feel cold at all — quite the opposite, really. Lando's firm body was pressed against you, his hands around your waist and faces impossibly close to each other. You could feel his warm breath, smelling after the vanilla milkshake you drank at a cozy café before going to the private beach.

One of his big hands cupped your cheek, your eyes locked in with his intense blue stare. Lando and you were going out for a few weeks, even months now. You didn't put any label on it, maybe too afraid of the feelings that bubbled in your stomach every time that exact expression appeared in his eyes. The one of pure adoration and happiness, as if you'd give him the Moon. And honestly? If he ever asked, you probably would. Or at least try.

As if the boy could read your thoughts, his smile deepened, and he finally closed the remaining distance between you two. His lips felt soft and hard against yours at the same time, asking and demanding all at once. Lando was always careful at the start, but as soon as your body relaxed, and you gently bit his bottom lip, the kiss heated up pretty quickly.

He moaned into your mouth and his hold on your waist tightened. This wasn't your first time making out, but it never felt so intense, so breathtaking before. You struggled to keep pace with him, though you'd lie if you said you didn't like it. However, when his hands slipped under the towel that was still wrapped around your bodies, and tugged onto your bikini straps, you pulled away. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and hair messy.

He stopped, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you questioningly, eyes wide. You realized Lando thought he did something wrong, again. And that made you feel even worse than before.

“What's wrong, babe?” he asked in a quiet voice, his hand still cupping the side of your cheek. You wanted to look down, ashamed and not knowing how to say what had to be said, but Lando didn't let you. “You can tell me Y/N. I won't be angry or anything.”

It was his assurance and sweet voice that caused you to sight and swallow thickly.

“I… there's something I need to tell you,” you whispered. He just nodded, listening curiously. “So, I feel weird saying it, but… I never actually… you know.” You point between you and him. “I never did this before,” you confess, not able to look him into the eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That's no problem at all-” You put your finger on his lips, silently asking him to be quiet.

“And,” you say, making him know that's not all you wanted to say, “I don't want to. Not until marriage.”

Now he seems surprised, taken aback even. It's clear he's processing your words for a moment, while you almost faint from the nerves. You're worried he won't understand. That now, when you told him he won't get what most men want, he'll break up whatever you two have going on.

But he does nothing like that. No, he nods slowly, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A smile that soon turns into the grin you know so well by this point. And then, Lando pulls you closer and whispers in your ear: “Well, good thing I plan on marrying you one day.”

And even though he says it in a joking voice, wanting to lighten up the atmosphere, you know right there and then that deep down, he means it.

THE END

[turcott3]

pov

juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: angst, sadness, unprotected sex, p in v, and fluff

positions fics masterlist

~oh, ‘cause nobody ever loved me like you do, i’d love to see me from your point of view~

-

you sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at your bare nails. one of the wives invited you to go with all of them to get your nails done, to which you hesitantly said yes. though it wasn’t exactly in your budget, you still agreed to go and bond with them.

“so what are your plans today baby?” juraj asks stepping out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“the girls invited me to go get my nails done, i’m going but i won’t get anything i haven’t gotten paid yet.” you say making broken eye contact with the boy.

“one second.” he says re-entering the bathroom so finish brushing his teeth before exiting the bedroom. in your previous relationship, your boyfriend never helped you. he would poke and tease at things that weren’t funny, comment on your body and you weight, tell you how to act and went so far as to hit you from time to time. truth be told, getting back into a relationship scared you because you thought all those things would happen once again no matter who you were with. the last 4 months with juraj had been hard for you. he made you happy and was always kind but the voice in the back of your head always told you to keep him at arms length, no matter your label.

“here, take my card and get whatever you want.” he said re-entering the room, holding his card out for you to take.

“are you sure?” you replied softly.

“yes baby, get whatever you want. it’s on me i promise.” he says again, shutting his wallet and tossing it on his nightstand.

“thank you.”

“of course, i don’t want you to sit there and be left out.” he says kissing you on the head while he collected his clean clothes off the bed next to you. the way he made your heart dance was an all new feeling to you. every time he touched you it was like a butterfly sanctuary busted loose in your abdomen, every time he spoke highly of you, you felt like it wasn’t real.

“i better go, i don’t wanna be late.” you say checking the clock and standing up off the bed, grabbing your purse from the dresser.

“have fun, text me when you get there safe.” he calls from the room as you exit the apartment.

-

“so how’s everything with slaf?” arber’s girlfriend asks.

“oh he’s been great, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“he is, me and arber are very glad he has someone to love. he has such a big heart he deserves someone as beautiful as you.” she smiles at you.

“awe thank you steph.” you smile lightly, not being able to even accept the compliment in your mind. you’d never felt beautiful, you felt cute from time to time, but never beautiful. after two long hours, you were finally able to leave which relieved you. you didn’t feel like you fit in. all the wives and girlfriends were so beautiful and kind and radiant. none of those things fit you, or so you thought. you entered your apartment to see slaf still in bed watching tv.

“i’m home.” you say catching his attention. he gets up and shuffles into the entryway.

“let me see let me see.” he says asking to see your nails. you picked a simple red design on nude nails, considering it was now february it felt right.

“do you like?” you ask.

“they’re gorgeous. i love them.” he smiles widely at you kissing your hands before placing two gentle fingers under your chin pressing a short kiss to your lips, which you gladly accepted.

“thank you.” you blush, a full smile never cracking your face.

“what’s wrong?” he says noticing your shift in demeanor.

“it’s nothing.” you say pushing past him to enter the bedroom, grabbing your pajamas.

“it’s not nothing.” he says following hot on your heels.

“j, it’s fine.”

“baby tell me.” he says grabbing onto your biceps and pulling you closer.

“i don’t deserve you.”

“what do you mean?” he says, a look of confusion taking over.

“all the other girlfriends and wives, they’re so beautiful and funny and kind, i don’t feel like i fit in with them. it’s like they always are put together, have money, happiness and like they just do everything so effortlessly.” you say, failing to hold back the waterfall behind your eyes.

“no my love.” he says wrapping you up in his arms tightly, rocking you back and forth.

“i don’t deserve you.” you repeat.

“you deserve more than me actually. i feel every emotion you feel everyday. i know you’re scared, i know you don’t feel any of these things about yourself but you don’t see yourself from my point of view.” he states.

“what?”

“you’re so gorgeous and sweet and smart and thoughtful. you make everyday so much brighter for me. i was so lonely when i first came to montreal and you’ve flipped my world upside down. you make everything better y/n.” he says and all you can do it cry. you have no response.

“i don’t know what to say j.”

“you don’t need to say anything, let’s run us a shower and get into our pajamas for a movie night okay?”

“okay.” you simply replied smiling lightly. the two of you stepped into the bathroom, him turning the knob of the shower to warm. you slowly stripped down, suddenly feeling very aware of your body. you hugged yourself hiding your chest and stomach while slaf stripped down in front of you. he finally looks up at you, eyes showing the sadness he felt at you stance.

“stop hiding, you’re beautiful.” he says pulling your arms away from your body. he reaches into the shower to feel the water finally warm. he steps in, lending you a hand in assistance. he pulls you under the water with him as you laid your head on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. his hands wandering their way down your back, landing firmly on your ass.

“juraj?”

“yes?” he replies as the two of you lock eyes. you say nothing and simply reach a hand to the back of his neck pulling his lips to yours anxiously. his hands moved up your back as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. you pulled away, placing your hands on his chest as your body is flush against his. the look in his eyes read far more than lust.

“let me love you y/n.” he says, running a delicate thumb across your cheekbone, his eyes locked on yours. your hand found his way on top of his as you smiled.

“i will.” you reply quietly. he reattaches your lips hastily, giving you a light tap on the ass. you jump, latching your legs around his hips, not once losing contact. the sexual tension in the room rising quickly. lifting your hips, he pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. you moan out in pleasure as his tip hit the sweet spot deep inside you. he used his arms to guide you as you moved up and down on his dick at a consistent pace, losing your breath quickly. you wrapped your arms around his neck placing your head in his shoulder, trying not to deafen the brunette with your moans. at this rate it wouldn’t take you long to finish. noticing you clenching around him, he picks up his pace.

“so beautiful y/n.” he says breathlessly as you slap a hand on the wall for better stability as your skin slapped against each other. he made you feel things you’d never experienced. your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to see stars, knowing you were nearing your witts end. you feel all of your muscles relax suddenly, your legs becoming shaky at the sensation as he buries his own climax deep inside you. the two of you slowly come to a stop, him not placing you back on the ground just yet. you lift your head off his shoulder dazily and he kisses you lovingly.

“that was amazing.” you giggle, pulling him out of you.

“yeah it was.” he laughs setting you back down.

“i love you so much.” he simply says causing your heart to flutter.

“i love you too slaf.” you smile finally grabbing some kind of soap.

“might as well make use of the shower.” you giggle, pouring shampoo into both of your hands. once the two of you are out of the shower and changed you’re found nowhere other than your bed, wrapped up in each other.

“so how do you feel now?” he asks, his thumb lightly stroking your side.

“i feel a little better.” you say.

“how so?” he pries.

“i feel beautiful and i feel wanted.”

“that’s because both are true my love. if you ever don’t feel okay please come to me. i’m here for you always.”

“okay.” you say, fighting sleep to the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat.

-

[lixie-phoria]

↳ ♡₊˚. tag, you're it ꒱

— skz helping 9th member reader w/ her paranoid personality disorder

requested - yes // 9th fem!member who has paranoid personality disorder (PPD) and she always thinks that she isn’t alone in the dorms when she’s by herself? The boys don’t know anything about is as she hides it from them but one day the boys get a camera for the living room as weird things have been happening when they aren’t there... skz x 9th member fem!reader / warnings - angst w happy ending, mentions of anxiety, paranoia, stalkers, and paranoid personality disorder / 3.2k words / a/n - this is the longest fic i've ever written 😭

"boo!"

"fuck!"

you gasped in shock, stumbling back as hyunjin popped out from behind the couch, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"did i scare you?" he giggles, standing up properly and making his way towards you, failing to notice how you eyes were still quivering with fright and your tight grip on your phone.

"why would you do that, hyunjin?"

you sound off, your voice an octave higher and trembling with an emotion that confuses him. was he sensing anger?

"it's just a joke ynnie. calm down."

it wasn't just a joke to you, though. it was much more than that. but you couldn't to explain it to him, so you leave him in the living room with an eye roll, staring at your retreating figure in confusion.

hyunjin doesn't bring it up after that. maybe he just happened to catch you on one of your bad days.

but he begins noticing things ever since - things that weren't necessarily normal. things that you have always done, but this time when he really thinks about it, they're a bit strange.

how you're always extra jumpy, flinching at every loud sound, refusing to leave the house without an unnecessary amount of security, being extra cautious when you went to public events, and straight up refusing to socialize with anyone more than necessary.

your members always labelled it on you being an introvert. but to the extent that you barely even spoke about yourself to your own members? as though scared to trust them with information? that wasn't normal, was it?

hyunjin thinks hard. he's a bit worried about you, but he doesn't know what to do.

tell chan? no. chan didn't need more problems on his plate.

confront you? no. you hated confrontation. it would worsen things.

talk to another member about it? maybe. but you might get mad at him. you always hated people meddling with your personal life.

so he stays silent for a while, observing from a distance.

and he begins picking up on signs soon enough.

you were paranoid. extremely paranoid. he caught you looking over your shoulder every few minutes, expertly dodging personal questions, being hypersensitive to criticism, having spells of moodiness that followed no particular pattern, suddenly giving your own members the cold shoulder, over analysing every little interaction you had with people. it was worrisome.

yes maybe hyunjin was looking into it too much and it wasn't that big of a deal. but he couldn't brush off a certain thought nagging him at the back of his mind. something was definitely up, and it was about time he spoke to the others about it.

"I think yn has a stalker." hyunjin mutters, shifting uncomfortably in his seat under the blank gazes of the other 7.

"what?" chan sounds confused, eyebrows furrowed as he shares an unsure glance with lee know. "did she say anything?"

that was the problem. you didn't. so he had no solid proof other than his theories.

"well, not really" he rubs the back of his neck. "but something is wrong. I know it. she's been acting weird."

"weird as in?"

"it's the usual. she hasn't changed. but when you look into her habits, they're not normal hyung."

it's tense. nobody knows what to say until changbin breaks the silence.

"what do you mean by not normal?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way," hyunjin hastily defends. "it's the way she's so paranoid, always on the edge. it can't be anxiety. anxiety doesn't make you act that way. it's almost like she's scared of something or someone."

he leaves it at that, allowing for the others to ponder over it.

your managers hadn't mentioned anything. maybe it was a sasaeng bothering you? maybe you slipped up and you were scared to share it with the company? scared of their berating?

"we can't jump to conclusions, can we?" felix interjects, fingers anxiously drumming against the table.

hyunjin shakes his head. "we can't. that's why i've been observing her for the past few weeks, and this was the most reasonable explanation i could find."

"what exactly made you start looking into it?"

"i tried jump scaring her two weeks ago, when she thought she was alone at the dorms. and she was so livid she didn't even crack a smile. i thought maybe she was just in a bad mood but for a few days after she kept acting strange around me. she would barely speak to me and even when she did she wouldn't meet my eyes."

chan hums, a frown twisting against his features. if hyunjin's guess was correct, you could be in serious trouble. and if he thought about it, there may just be a chance the boy was right. if you really did have a stalker threatening you, the chances you told them about it were close to zero. you were never one to confide in people easily.

"let's not tell the managers about it, yeah? we'll all observe her too. try seeing if there's anything out of the ordinary?"

and so they all agree, leaving the company in a much worse mood than with which they had entered. you were alone back at the dorms. it was your first day off in a very long time. hence hyunjin had chosen that moment to tell the others.

the drive back is tense. nobody says much. a few of them scroll through social media, trying to see if there's any news about a stalker. but they come up with nothing.

everything seems normal.

that is until they reach their apartment.

the change is immediately obvious. when chan unlocks the door, he stumbles back in surprise when he sees their dinner table blocking the corridor of the entrance, preventing them from entering the living room. the couch had also noticeably shifted, turned such that anyone sitting on it would have a clear view of the windows and the front door. every window is shut, the latches bolted.

"what the fuck happened here?" seungmin mutters in shock, carefully lifting the table from one end and moving it to make space for them to enter. the entire layout had changed.

"where's yn?"

all of them are visibly terrified as they make their way deeper into the dorm, noticing the can of pepper spray lying on the center table.

"yn!"

no answer.

"fuck. I hope she's okay."

there's nothing they can do besides hope as they reach your door. it's locked. there's no sound coming from the other side.

"yn?" Chan's voice wavers as he silently knocks at your door.

no answer.

"yn! it's us!" lee know pounds against the door.

there's a moment of tense silence before they hear the unmistakable click of your lock.

"hi?"

your hair is ruffled and your eyes puffy. you had been asleep.

it takes you by surprise when jeongin pushes his hyungs aside to grab you by the shoulders, chest heaving with the fright you had given them.

"what's wrong innie? why do you guys look like you've seen a ghost?"

"what's wrong? you tell us yn. why is all our furniture completely rearranged?"

for the first time your eyes land on the living room, and you gulp.

shit. you forgot to clean up.

"there was a bee. I was trying to kill it."

"what?"

it sounds ridiculous even to your own ears, but it's the best excuse you have.

"yeah. that's why the windows are closed. it got in somehow and I lost it. I was just trying to search for it." you shrug.

"what about the pepper spray?"

"I couldn't find the bug repellent."

the excuses come to you naturally.

"yn please-"

"it's not that big of a deal, oppa" you cut chan off, defensively crossing your arms. "you know I hate bugs. that's all there is to this. now will you please let me go back to sleep?"

you don't wait for their reply, shutting the door and locking it, leaving your members half confused and half exasperated. you were lying to them.

"please tell me none of you believed her." hyunjin whispers into the silence of the afternoon, taking care that you don't overhear them.

"something's definitely wrong," han agrees, his foot bouncing unconsciously against the carpet. "she's hiding something."

"but what?"

the million dollar question. what were you hiding? was it really a stalker?

"should we tell the managers about it now?"

"I think we should," lee know adds, looking at the others for confirmation.

"don't you think she'll be angry? she doesn't like people meddling with her business. you know how defensive she gets."

all of them turn to chan. in the end, it would be his say.

"I think we should try figuring out the reason first ourselves."

"but-"

"a motion detector and CCTV camera might work. hidden from sight, of course. it would alert us."

changbin hums, agreeing with their leader. "We could give it a try. It's better than nothing."

and so the plan is set. felix makes an excuse of buying parts for his PC and brings home the camera and motion detector. when you go to shower the next morning, the device is expertly concealed and motion detectors set in place.

chan insists you stay back that day too, going on for a long time about something related to your health and dark circles and what not. you agree reluctantly, and they don't fail to notice it. you didn't want to be alone. that was something.

"don't worry ynnie," jeongin reassures you as he ties his shoe lace while the others wait for him at the entrance. "the company is only 5 minutes away, we wont be far."

"are we just going to wait around here with nothing to do?" lee know asks, leaning back into the couch in their dance room.

"we don't have another option."

and so they do exactly that - wait. but it's not for long.

fifteen minutes into their boredom the first alarm goes off. the motion detectors had been triggered and the bell rings from chan's phone - where the control system had been set up.

"quick, check the camera!"

all eight of them huddle around chan's screen, watching intently at the familiar sight of their living room, eyes scanning for any sign of someone trying to break in.

but it's only you. you're pacing the living room, hands wringing by your side as you keep looking over your shoulder, flinching every time a paper rustles or the curtains move from the wind.

"what's wrong with her?"

felix furrows his brows, looking at the controls on chan's screen to make sure that the motion detector outside their front hasn't been activated. that meant nobody was trying to break in.

"she seems terrified."

"call her."

seungmin wastes no time in dialing your contact, and they watch in unison as you very nearly jump out of your skin when your phone goes off, a hand going to clutch your chest as you collapse into the couch.

"hello?"

your voice sounds normal. they wouldn't have suspected anything if they couldn't see your leg anxiously bouncing.

"is everything okay there?" seungmin asks carefully. he can't giveaway that they're secretly keeping an eye on you.

"uh yeah- yeah sure. everything is fine. why?"

"no reason. I was just taking a break."

"oh."

"alright stay safe. We'll be back in a while."

Seungmin is just about to hang up when you stop him.

"wait!"

for the first time a hysterical note seeps into your voice.

"yes?"

he's met with silence as they notice you pondering over something through the camera.

"yn?"

"nevermind. it's nothing. don't overwork yourself."

chan sighs deeply as he listens to you over the speaker, his fingers tightly gripping the edges of his phone.

you mutter your bye, and they watch you get up, carefully placing your phone on the table.

and then you do what they had been waiting for.

pushing your weight against the couch, you move it directly towards the wall, leaving no gap in between.

another alarm goes off on chan's phone.

then you angle it a bit, the same way they had found it the day before, such that you have a clear view of all entrances to the dorm.

all this while anxiously looking over your shoulder, once even jumping a bit as your foot got stuck on a fold in the carpet. your movements are tense, screaming with urgency, and it's the breaking point for them.

"that's it. we're going back," changbin huffs as he stands up, the other following behind quickly. chan maintains his concentration on the screen.

"she's turning on the t.v," chan informs, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder and following them out of the building.

the ride back is silent. if their manager picks up on the strange atmosphere he doesn't mention it, and they're grateful to that. lying to their manager would be worse than hiding this from him.

it's only a five minutes drive, but it feels like eternity. when they finally enter the building, running up the stairs, it's eerie how peaceful their apartment looks from the out.

"do we knock or?"

"no. it might scare her."

seungmin pulls out the key from his pocket, trying to be as soft as possible as he unlocks the door, not wanting to startle you with any sudden noise.

"yn?"

chan quickly turns off his phone, stepping through the threshold.

you're sitting exactly where they saw you, some show mindlessly playing on the t.v. your eyes lock in on them as you scramble up.

"you guys are early. it's barely been half an hour."

should they tell you truth? confront you? try to coax it out of you? be subtle about it?

"guys?"

they snap out of their trance, their voices immediately breaking the silence of the dorm.

"yeah! we didn't want to leave you by yourself for long."

"oh."

you take your place on the couch, and raise a brow as they all settle themselves around you too. they don't change or wash up or anything. they just silently occupy any empty space they can find.

it's strange.

"are you guys ok?" you voice, turning off the t.v to look at felix who's sitting beside you.

silence.

they all exchange glances. someone has to bring it up.

"are you okay?" hyunjin finally asks, turning his body to face yours.

"what?"

"yn, please. just answer him."

"no no what do you mean hyune?"

you voice is an octave higher, hands digging into the leather cushion of their couch.

"yn," chan tries to pacify. they hadn't expected this to escalate over a simple question.

"what? why are all of you looking at me like that? i'm fine there's nothing wrong with me."

"yn-"

"stop interfering in things that aren't your business!" you finally snap, cutting felix off as you stand up, turning to face them. "this is none of your business so keep out of it!"

you're breathing heavily and a beat passes in silence.

"yn, what's wrong love?"

chan carefully gets up to put an arm over your shoulder, gently pulling you down to sit. you're trembling and barely half a minute passes before you crumble into chan's shoulder - suddenly - sobs punctuating the silence of the afternoon.

"i'm sorry," you manage between gasps. "i'm so sorry."

even chan look alarmed as he hurriedly tries to calm you down.

"there's nothing to be sorry about, ynnie. please talk to us."

but you can barely talk. you're all but wailing as the other seven huddle around you, their reassurances mixing together.

"i lied. i've been a terrible friend, snapping at you all the time. i'm so sorry it's all my fault."

"yn-"

"nothing is okay. everything is a mess and i don't know what to do."

the leader gently coaxes your face out from where it's nestled in his neck, and rubs a thumb below your waterline, collecting the salt streams streaking down your face.

"ynnie. please calm down, yeah? we want to help. tell us what's wrong."

"i'm- i'm messed up, chan. that's what is wrong."

"don't say that! it's not true."

you break down into another torment of sobs, and they hurry to calm you down.

"it's my head. it's messing with me. something is wrong. i just-," you voice breaks as chan leans to plant a soft kiss against your temple. "-i just don't know what."

"what do you mean?" hyunjin asks softly.

you take your time, elaborating through sobs and broken gasps about your suspected condition. if you had thought they would judge you, you were completely wrong. they listen attentively, comforting you through it.

"i don't want to, but i can't help it," you whisper, leaning into chan's touch. "my brain convinces me that there's always someone hiding just beyond my sight. everytime i speak to someone i'm wired into believing they'll use that information against me somehow, or they'll try to harm me. public events are a nightmare. i don't remember the last time i've been to an award show and felt alright."

"oh yn."

han all but pounces on you and chan, ruffling your hair as hiccups wrack through your figure.

they've never seen you like this. they've never seen anyone like this, in fact.

"it's so loud in my head. it started off small, i didn't even notice when i began thinking or feeling this way. but it just got worse and worse to the point where i've been an absolute pain to all of you - snapping at you, lying to you, fighting with you. i just- i don't know what to do anymore."

"hey hey, listen to me, yeah? this is not your fault. and you haven't been a pain. don't ever think that again," chan reminds you, coaxing you to face him, heart breaking a little at the tears streaking your face.

"but-"

"nope. nuh-uh. no blaming this on yourself."

you chin wobbles as you try to control a fresh onslaught of sobs.

all of them are so understanding you don't even know if you're crying from all the love or the confrontation.

"we'll help you through this, yn. we promise. you don't have to suffer through this alone."

"you don't have to do this. you're all already so busy and-"

"your mental health is a lot more important to us than anything else," felix interjects flatly, rubbing a soothing hand over your back.

"yeah! you've been hiding this for so long and we just want to help you feel better again! no matter what it takes."

you flash a grateful smile to changbin through the tears, earning an encouraging grin from him.

"you're all too nice for your own good. thank you."

"don't worry you can repay us by letting me jump scare you!"

"yah hyunjin do you want to be stuffed into the air fryer?"

it didn't take a genius to figure out who the comment came from as you giggled softly.

it's going to be okay, you think. you know your boys will help you through it, and that itself was the first step of your recovery.

you'll be fine.

©lixie-phoria, 2024