#i had to collect packages before i left and one of them turned out to be one of the presents i thought wasnt coming so thats something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonchildstyles · 11 months ago

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pleasing

y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.

wordcount: 9.5k+

—————

Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night.

Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call.

"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.

"Hey, are you busy?"

"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?"

"Can I FaceTime you?"

She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow.

(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow.

"Hello?"

The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen.

"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away.

"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?"

Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?"

She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples."

A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?"

"For the collection."

Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.

After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding.

Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside.

"What do you think?"

(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?"

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones."

"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better."

Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera.

Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Are those bows?!"

He only laughed.

—————

"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you."

His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too."

With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection.

(Y/N).

It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.

As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration.

It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as.

His best friend.

He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head.

Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down.

Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around.

That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples.

Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade.

He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.

He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room.

By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted.

Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?

The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.

Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made.

And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot.

—————

i'm here !! 🍣🍣

(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale.

She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants.

"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting.

Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her.

"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today."

"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy."

"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."

Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day.

"What are you wearing?"

A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response.

His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer.

"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details.

"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?"

Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve.

"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these."

"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time."

"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before.

Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah."

"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her.

A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now."

Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway."

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away."

He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you."

His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her.

(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own."

Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though."

She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace.

For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.

Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin.

"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms.

Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup.

"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out."

A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so."

Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?"

He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable."

She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?"

A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?"

She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her.

A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?"

"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know."

It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away.

—————

As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line.

"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..."

There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot.

Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N).

"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert.

Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set.

"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up."

He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it."

It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.

He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?"

"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.

Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?"

It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe."

It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway.

Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile.

"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?"

"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?"

"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us."

Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really."

Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction.

Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?"

"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?"

"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.

"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?"

At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?"

Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."

"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.

"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them."

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail.

"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure.

With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?"

"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds.

Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it."

He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair.

Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot?

Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker.

"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!"

She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips.

His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist.

"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?

(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet."

There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it."

Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?"

Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date.

"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair.

Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry.

"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice.

Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?"

Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me."

Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie."

When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.

—————

Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).

Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room.

It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her.

Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change.

As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun."

(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time."

A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person."

"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard."

"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him.

She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set.

A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant.

Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space.

—————

"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long."

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then."

Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him.

The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself.

From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing.

"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun."

Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this."

Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one."

"All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now."

"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops."

(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically.

"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words.

A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you."

For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes.

"Told me about what?"

At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue.

"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you."

(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears.

Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning.

Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them.

"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.

A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised."

Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?"

Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes.

She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?"

Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more.

When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her.

"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?"

Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises.

Had that always been there?

"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready."

The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired."

"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie."

When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her.

—————

"Hey, you."

Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days.

"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week."

"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?"

Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks.

"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet."

"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day."

Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?"

A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room."

All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.

As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects.

His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo).

Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television.

"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her.

"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired.

Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments. Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well."

Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did.

The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features.

"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo.

Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight.

"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice.

"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear.

"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots."

(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet.

"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—"

"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?"

The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?"

Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long.

"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true."

He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word.

"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me."

In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed?

What was he supposed to say to that?

More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear?

Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—

"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain.

(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?"

The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river.

"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you."

By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot.

The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.

"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—"

As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips.

It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive.

This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it?

Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time.

The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.

While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss.

Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.

"You like me?"

A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones.

"Maybe. Why?"

(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.

—————

Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now.

(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?

With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this.

Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram.

Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically.

The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page.

There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment.

Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross.

As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos.

"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss.

The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion.

"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon.

"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet."

"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more.

Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling."

He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.

—————

:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)

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space-cowgirllll · 5 months ago

Text

Right Where You Left Me

a/n: I was going to wait to post this but I had written a lot more than I thought the last time I touched this. A little lengthy bc I’m a yapper but here's part two of Tolerate It. I'M SORRYYYYY 🥹

The flurries Abby had seen as she walked into work this morning quickly turned into actual snowfall. Twelve hours later, everything around her is covered in a thick blanket of white snow. Traffic had been worse than usual, making her already shitty commute twice as long. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding leaves her when she finally pulls up to the curb in front of her home. She's safe. Forcing her frozen fingers to uncurl from the death grip she had on the steering wheel, she parks the car, cursing when she feels it slide just a little. She was due for a tropical vacation soon.

Despite her disdain for the snow, Abby can admit the quaint neighborhood looks beautiful. Thousands of multicolored lights adorn the houses and yards around her. Laughter from the kids having a snowball fight across the street fills the night air. Their giggles make Abby's heart feel a little lighter. A couple of her neighbors have their curtains drawn, displaying their immaculately decorated trees. It reminds her of those cheesy hallmark movies she secretly loves watching.

Abby cringes when she realizes her house is the only dark one on the street. In her mind she can see the purple Post-It still stuck to the fridge reminding her to pull the outdoor decor down from the attic and actually decorate. The red plastic tubs have been sitting at the top of the steps for weeks. She trips over them constantly, telling herself she'll get to them tomorrow, but it seems there were just never enough hours in the day. Eighty hour work weeks left little room for anything else- not that she had much going on. If she wasn't at the gym, or catching up on some much needed sleep, she was at the hospital.

Her head hits the steering wheel in defeat when she taps the screen on her phone and catches sight of the date. It's the twentieth of December.

"Too late to do anything about it now." She mumbles to herself. Her palms dig into her tired eyes. Today was truly the day from hell.

But the universe doesn't seem to be quite done with her just yet. Over the hum of her ac blowing she hears a familiar tune. Her head snaps to the radio in recognition. Her usual radio station has switched over to playing nothing but Christmas music for the night. It's your favorite song. Shit. Her shaky index finger blindly reaches for the button to kill the engine before throwing the door open, jacket forgotten in the passenger seat.

She shivers as she speed walks to her front door trying her hardest not to slip on the icy sidewalk. The straps of her work bags dig painfully into her right shoulder when she bends down to collect the multiple packages that had accumulated on her porch. After days of ignoring them, they were starting to block the doorway. But hey, at least this year she had gotten ahead on Christmas shopping.

These days it was all about the small wins. —

Abby drops the mattress she dragged out of the guest room in front of the fireplace with soft grunt. She hasn't done this in years, but she needs it today. This had been one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long week. Always there waiting for her with a big smile and her favorite snacks, a movie waiting to be played on the tv. In the later months of the year, around the holidays, Abby could always count on finding a pair of pajamas for her that matched yours laid out on your shared bed. She had always thought it was kind of silly when you had a perfectly good bed and tv upstairs. Now, she could only dream of coming home after a long day to a warm house and you bundled up in blankets waiting up for her.

It's quiet as she stares out the window watching snow fall. Her head is fuzzy from the wine and she knows she's going to regret it tomorrow. The movie she randomly picked half an hour ago is now muted. She can hear the distant buzzing of her personal phone from somewhere in the kitchen, but she can't be bothered. Calls from her family trying to confirm next weeks plans go ignored. Abby loves them, but the thought of being asked if she was ready to start dating again before trying to set her up with the friend of a friend for the fifth year in a row made her want to cancel her flight home. She can't stand the pity in their eyes every time they look at her.

Bleary eyes roam around the room, the sight of the unlit, half-decorated tree in the corner and the lone stocking missing its pair hanging off the mantle make her chest hurt in a way it hadn't in a while. It may not look like it, but she had tried. Most of the Christmas stuff actually made it out of the attic this year. Which is more than she can say for last year, and the years before that. She'd finally gotten the tree out and decorating had been going well, until she pulled out that ornament.

The little house you had custom made to look like a tiny replica of the first place the two of you were sharing as a married couple. Abby remembers how excited you'd been, staying up waiting for her to come home from a late night so you could open it together. The look in your eyes as you traced over the details, the names stamped on the back. You made her hold it as you hooked it onto the tree, wanting to do it together.

Her fingers trace over the pink floral pattern on the sheets. You'd picked these out, excited to host her parents over the thanksgiving holiday for the fist time. Abby didn't have the heart to change them out. Minus your personal things, she didn't have the heart to make any changes to your original decor. You'd made the house a home. Some nights she swears she can catch a whiff of your favorite candle, or the lavender spray you'd douse the pillows with before going to bed.

Abby gives up, shutting the tv off and settling into her pillow, ready for today to be over. She can't help but feel silly laying here in the dark by herself. Nights like this had been more fun with you around. Everything in her life had been more fun with you around.

You made Abby's life magical, she just hadn't realized it until it was too late. ---------------------------

Abby watches you push your food around your plate out of the corner of her eye. The scraping of the fork makes it hard to focus on the conversation happening in front of her. Would it kill you to at least try to look interested? Her hand lands on your upper thigh, squeezing lightly to get your attention. The two of you exchange subtle glares.

It isn't until her colleagues retreat back to their own table that she finally looks at you. You're swirling the ice in your drink around with a straw. Your gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the busy street. She had thought a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant would soften you up a little, but with how little you've spoken all night and your plate still full, she's starting to worry.

After an explosive fight the morning after she'd forgotten your wedding anniversary, you'd been distant. In all the years Abby had known you, she could count on one hand the amount of times you'd fought, and even then the two of you could never stay away for long. Communication was one of the things you prided yourself on the most, never wanting to go to bed angry at each other. But it's been three weeks and Abby realizes she's really fucked up.

"Alright, what's going on with you?"

"Oh, now you notice." You retort. Her eyebrows knit together, surprised at the thinly veiled anger in your voice.

"You're so dramatic." She huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Your eyes shift to the side, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. She can practically see the gears turning in your head. You're holding your tongue.

"Abigail, let's not do this right now." You beg. "Please."

"No. We're going to talk now." She speaks lowly, grateful for the little privacy the corner table provided. "Sitting in silence isn't going to make this go away. Stop being childish and tell me how to fix this."

You looked her in the eye, no longer seeing the person you fell in love with. Knowing that if you stayed you'd end up losing yourself in someone who couldn't love you the way you deserved anymore. There was no way you could have the family you wanted with someone who constantly prioritized their work, making you feel like you were the distraction.

Your lips part on a shaky exhale. You can't keep lying awake at night contemplating this. You have to do it now. From the corner of your eye you can see the couple at the table closest to you subtly lean towards you.

Abby leans back in her seat waiting for you to speak up. Her arms folded across her chest. The way her leg bounces up and down gently shakes the table. Something about the dejected look in your eyes makes her panic inside.

"I want a divorce."

---------

Department store wrapping stations were a small luxury Abby didn't mind spending the money on. She wasn't the best gift wrapper, often leaving rips or weird folds on anything that wasn't shaped like a box.

She stands in line with all the other last minute shoppers, people watching when her eyes fall on the last person she thought she'd ever see again. Abby swears she must be dreaming. Her knees nearly buckle when she sees you standing there slowly making your way through a rack of baby clothes. A little boy no younger than two perched on your hip, his leg trying to sit comfortably against the small swell of your stomach. He's a carbon copy of his mother. Abby sees you wherever her eyes land on his face.

Your hair is longer, framing your pretty face. There's a glow to you that she doesn't remember seeing in those last two years of your marriage. Your eyes are tired but bright, even from here Abby can see the way they sparkle when you stare at the little boy in your arms. Nothing like the cold way you'd looked at her that fateful night.

Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she steps out of line, making her way to a more secluded section of the store. Hiding behind a tie display she watches you interact with your son. For a moment she pretends that you're still hers and that the last five years didn't happen. Pretends that she didn't fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to her. God, she feels like a delusional creep.

A tall woman walks up behind you, making a silly face at your toddler. You smile when he reaches out for her, trading the boy for the to-go cup she was holding out to you. Abby doesn't have to guess what you're drinking. She knew how much you hated coffee, preferring hot chocolate to keep you warm in the colder months. Her stomach bottoms out when you raise the cup to your lips.

A ring that isn't hers sits on your finger.

Abby didn't realize how big of a gut punch that would feel like. While you still spoke to her parents from time to time, they made sure not to relay any information to her. She knew you wouldn't stay single forever, but actually seeing you like this ripped apart whatever was left of her heart.

You'd gone silent on social media since the split. A new and private Instagram account was all she could find one night after she'd been drinking a little too much. She'd cried herself to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be a part of your world again.

She studies your wife, who's everything Abby isn't. Her long brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun, the pink knit beanie on her head matches the scarf currently wrapped around your neck. Dark eyes watch your face intently with a smile as you hold up a onesie to her. Abby looks down at her old college sweats and worn sneakers, nothing like the well put together outfit she's wearing. The woman even looks like she gets more than five hours of sleep each night for crying out loud.

She looks happy. Something Abby hasn't been for a long time.

And judging by the way you're looking at her, like she hangs the stars in the sky, Abby can see how happy you are. She bites the inside of her cheek, refusing to remember what it felt like to have you look at her that way. Tears prickle in her eyes as you make your way down to the front of the store, dramatically blowing kisses at the giggling toddler being carried just a few steps ahead of you. One of your hands rubbing softly at your bump.

Abby startles when you look back towards the men's section, eyes going straight to the tiny display she stood behind. Of course you spotted her. You lock eyes with her. There's a tiny smile on your face watching her come out of her shitty hiding spot. For a moment you two stand there just staring at each other. Abby's aware you probably look crazy to anyone watching but she can't bring herself to care.

Those are my sweats. You mouth. Abby releases a watery chuckle she doubts you hear. She looks down, finally noticing the nail polish stain just under her knee. It's purple. Your favorite color.

The sound of an alarm brings you both back to reality. You give her one last smile, waving as you walk out the doors and into the chilly December air. Her eyes follow you as you cross the street, until you get lost in a large crowd of people.

Watching you walk away this time feels like a final goodbye. You’d always have a place in your heart for Abby, no longer feeling any resentment towards her. She had been too young and selfish to love you the way you deserved. She can see you've found that. And while she's happy for you, she can't help the tears that spill out once she's in the safety of her car.

There's a bittersweet feeling in knowing that the world didn't stop spinning for you the way it did for her the day you walked out of her life.

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou2

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luvvyouforever · 10 months ago

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my girlfriend (wife) is a witch - sdv harvey x reader

-> in which our beloved small town doctor falls in love with the new resident who just so happens to own a black cat, offer tarot readings in her farmhouse, and loves nothing more than a full moon.

-> not an accurate depiction of witches, just something fun, short, and sweet, harvey's a cutie patootie!

"so, this card seems to be say that your business is gonna take off, which is strange considering your only available pool of patients is about thirty people who all already have yearly appointments booked."

harvey let out a deep chuckle, one that came from the pit of his stomach and traveled up through his chest. to the left of him was a stack of tarot card decks, with crystals stacked on top of those. to his right was an steadily flowing stick of incense that surrounded the backyard patio in a soft haze of lavender.

"maybe the citizens of zuzu will start making their way out here just to see lil' ole me," he said. his fingers toyed with the edge of one of the cards displayed on the table.

you shrugged your shoulders and began to shuffle your deck again, searching for another card. "you never know! the cards once said that lewis and marnie were secretly together and look what happened there! you can't doubt 'em."

harvey chuckled again then, remembering the moment you had bursted into the farmhouse, screaming about finding lewis's purple shorts in marnie's bedroom, all but confirming your suspicions that had been growing for seasons.

he was never much of a believer in anything but the real, practical world. as a doctor, he never allowed himself to indulge in the supernatural or superstitious. going under a ladder is bad luck? not for dr. harvey. however, the moment he fell in love with you, he let himself get absorbed into the world of daily tarot pulls, of drying flowers, of black cats, of full moons, of everything you loved.

snap! snap! "hellooo, earth to harv, please!" your voice snapped him out of his reverie and he noticed two new cards on the table.

"what do those say, dear?" he asked sweetly.

"well, this one says you should give in to spontaneity sometime today and this one is telling me that we should consider forgiving someone's faults," you said, admiring the foil art of the card.

"hmm...maybe i can spontaneously forgive george for verbally accosting me when i recommended that he lower his sodium intake," harvey suggested with a fake thoughtful fist on his chin.

"i think he'd be more open to drinking the elixirs and syrups i make in the basement before eating a salad, hon," you said with a laugh.

after the last pull, you slowly collected every card into a neat pile and tucked them back into their original packaging. harvey admired your handiwork as you placed your crystals back into a wooden box gifted to you by robin. with a smile, you looked up at your husband, only to find him staring at you with love-filled eyes.

you asked, "what are you looking at, huh?"

harvey shrugged his shoulders but made no move to turn his gaze away. "can i not look at my sweet, hard-working wife?"

with a playful roll to your eyes, you stood from the chair and planted a kiss on harvey's head. "speaking of hardworking, i have some strawberries that need harvesting! would you like to come help, my sweet, caring husband?"

harvey gladly stood and followed you through the backyard, into the house full of plants and charms hanging from the ceiling and walls, and out to the porch. at his heels was your black cat, meowing relentlessly for attention. on the porch, he slid on his gardening gloves and sun hat (sun protection is very important, he'd always say, and he always forced you into a straw hat at least).

perhaps his form of spontaneous forgiveness was forgiving himself for not admitting to his feelings earlier, for stressing so hard about finding someone to love, for not knowing sooner that this was always where he was meant to be, tarot cards and black cats and all.

#milh (man i love harvey)#fanfic #fluff #harvey #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #harvey x reader #harvey one shot #harvey imagine #stardew valley x reader #harvey sdv

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kitten4sannie · 11 months ago

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ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ, ʟɪꜰᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ

ʜᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx/ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: seasoned model! seonghwa x newcomer model! reader (fem) x models! woosan feat. director! hongjoong

genres: modeling au, smut

summary: walking for this season’s collection means everything to you, and you’re not about to let anyone get in the way, especially not a man who’s dead set on taking your place, no matter how insanely pretty he may be.

w.c: 4.8k

warnings: everyone’s an asshole here lol, use of drugs/alcohol, dom! seonghwa, bratty sub! reader, dom-ish poly! woosan, usage of the word ‘mommy’, mutual masturbation in the back of a limo, handjobs, tension, name calling/pet names, degradation/praise, brat taming, manhandling, choking, thigh grinding, kissing, brief spit play, hair pulling, marking, nasty hate sex in a club bathroom, creampie, brief breeding/bulge kink

a/n: i wanted to write like 10k words for this fic bc modeling aus just make me lose it fsr esp when ateez is involved 🧎🏻‍♀️maybe i will one day <3 i had sm fun with this one arrghhh!! alsoooo i can’t believe there’s only one more story left to share with you all like huhh ??? 😺time flies man ;~; anyways please enjoy xx

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ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙʏ ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ᴅᴜɴʙᴀʀ

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

Modeling, for some, was about being a part of something bigger than them — the head-turning brands, the constant development of fashion and what was considered to be hot and new, the runways, the avant-garde collections, the hazy after parties that supplied them with drugs, alcohol, and sex. All the excess, the gaudiness of it all, kept your cohorts going, kept them content, kept them chained to the modeling world, all the while they scratched at their pearl-adorned necks and begged for more.

All of that was fun, sure, but what kept you on your hands and knees, what fueled you to continue dragging yourself up through the ranks, what gave you the strength to bow down and service executive after executive, what propelled you to treat your body like the ultimate temple, was the glory. The moment you were up on that stage, basking in the blood and tear soaked limelight, cameras flashing, rendering you blind, your dear director’s arm hooked securely around your waist, your perfect face ready to be displayed on every magazine cover; that’s why you sacrificed everything. That’s why you gave all of yourself to the fashion beast — let it consume you whole, spit you out, and mold you into something they wanted. And you weren’t about to let anyone get in the way.

On the way to your esteemed director’s latest show, you let your mind go blank in the back of the spacious limousine, resting your half-empty glass of champagne in between your legs, not paying any mind to the boisterous conversation your modeling friends were having from either side of you until one of them suddenly grabbed onto your arm and tugged on it.

“Hey, baby, you’re gonna want to hold onto your tits…” San, your best friend since your first real shoot, warned you, before popping a few pills into his mouth and downing them with some sparkling champagne.

“Why? What’s going on?” you asked concernedly, not ready for anything bad to happen on your big night.

“Look at this…” Wooyoung, your ride-or-die, who was a part of the package deal when you initially met San, spoke up beside you, leaning across the padded seat to show you something on his phone.

You took a slow sip from your glass, your eyes studying the large, obnoxious headline that sat at the top of the celebrity news article, having to cover your mouth to keep yourself from spraying champagne all over.

Fashion Icon Park Seonghwa Joins Kim Hongjoong’s Spring Collection Due to Last Minute Inspiration

You started to read more of the article but you felt sick to your stomach with the way they were giving Seonghwa that Samsung spin cycle sloppy toppy 9000 through their embellished wording. “This cannot be happening…Tell me this is a joke!” you gasped, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s silk sleeve and San’s leather-bound pants, pleading with both of them with your teary eyes. “If he’s going to be there, everything will be fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.”

“Everything will be fine, doll.” Wooyoung pressed his plump, glossy lips to your cheek and lips, trying to calm you down, running his fingers through your hair. “Just relax for me…”

Your rigid body slowly began to relax, leaning further into the kisses he gave you, almost forgetting around your second counterpart, until he placed a gloved hand around your upper thigh and squeezed it, causing you to face him. “Sannie…”

“I’m sure you’ll still be the center of attention, baby.” San continued to rub your thigh, his hand moving further and further up your bare leg, compelling you to look down at the logo engraved on his expensive glove until it disappeared underneath your tiny skirt. “I mean, look at you,” he continued in a low tone, giving you a perverse smile, motioning to the tight, sleek black designer dress you were wearing, one that Director Kim himself created for you, his star pupil.

“He’s right, doll,” Wooyoung agreed, bringing his pinky up to his nose to snort something powdery, before leaning over to kiss you on the neck, his own hand making its way to your other thigh, pulling it open just as San did, their fingers slipping up and down your bare cunt from underneath your skirt. “You’ll always be everyone’s favorite…Our favorite too.”

You basked in your modeling friends’ depraved attentiveness like you always seemed to do, all three of you just drinking in the pleasing sight of one another, your hands rubbing over their hardening cocks through their expensive clothing, eventually finding your way underneath it, much to their enjoyment.

With one hand around each of their cocks, you jerked them off with frightening accuracy, knowing when to squeeze around their glistening cockheads and what vein to rub at with your thumbs to make them whimper and whine in your ears, using their leaking pre-cum to lube them up. “Aww, does that feel good? Are you two going to cum just for me?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Wooyoung let slip out in a shaky breath, his wrist starting to cramp up from how hard he was finger-fucking you, leaving messy kisses across your collarbone.

“Gonna cum for my favorite girl,” San exhaled into your pierced ear, pinching his gloved fingers tightly around your clit, watching you spasm with a smirk on his flushed face, his pretty pink lips forming an ‘o’ as soon as his cock began to throb.

All three of you began to shudder and jolt against each other and the leather seats behind you, finishing your typical pre-modeling ritual with a much needed, drug-enhanced orgasm.

Once San and Wooyoung began to fix their clothes and hair using their phone cameras, taking a few pictures of themselves to capture their alluring afterglows, you reached forward to knock on the partition that separated you and the driver.

The window slowly rolled down, bringing you face to face with the seasoned driver. “We’re just around the corner to the venue, Miss.” His eyes widened slightly when you held your hands up in front of him, his soft, jovial expression forming one of shock.

“Napkins, please,” you requested softly with a cordial smile, as if you didn’t have your friends’ cum dripping along your manicured fingers down to your 24k gold bracelets.

࿏࿏࿏

“If Director Kim gives the final walk to Seonghwa, I’m going to kill him…” you hissed through gritted teeth, not able to look directly at Wooyoung or San when you spoke, instead having to look upwards so that the makeup artist could properly run their brush along your lash line.

“Director Kim or Seonghwa?” San perused, immediately sucking in his cheeks a bit, the person in front of him brushing more contour along his already sharpened cheekbones.

“Seonghwa…that beautiful prick…” Your eyebrows furrowed together, picturing the irritatingly gorgeous man in your mind’s eye with your eyes closed shut. “I swear to god if he takes what’s mine, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” you heard someone say in a silky smooth voice, one that made your heart just about burst out of your chest. “What is the pretty little new girl going to do, besides talk shit behind my back, hm?”

You opened your eyes just in time to see Seonghwa standing behind you in the mirror with one hand on his hip and the other swishing around some bubbly alcohol inside a champagne flute, his infamously piercing gaze settled entirely on you, your jaw practically on the floor.

“Face crack of the century…” Wooyoung whispered to San, the both of them grabbing onto each other and flipping out, waiting impatiently to witness what was about to go down between two of Director Kim’s most prized possessions.

Seonghwa carefully ran his ringed fingers through his hair, taking a few steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it somewhat roughly, looking down at you like you were the mouse he had just pinned underneath his claws. “Is this what they consider to be hot these days?” he grimaced, eyeing you up and down, running a finger along your jaw, knowing exactly how he’d get under your skin. “Times certainly have changed…”

You suddenly stood up and got in Seonghwa’s face, your stilettos giving you enough leverage to almost meet your sworn enemy at eye-level, pressing a finger into his chest plate through his perfectly tailored, button-up blouse. “You may be one of the hottest people in here, but you’re old news, Seonghwa. The only reason you’re considered an icon is because of Director Kim’s influence, okay? Let’s not kid ourselves.” Noticing the way Seonghwa’s face flinched, you knew you struck a nerve. Now it was time to deliver the final blow.

Seonghwa’s hand clenched tightly around his glass, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He took a step closer to you, so close now that his breath hit your chin. “You better watch your fucking mouth…”

Your friends let out silent screams, hardly able to let the makeup artists do their jobs with the way they were shaking each other. A few other models had stopped in their places to figure out why there was suddenly so much tension in their beloved workplace, their eyes on the both of you, whispering amongst one another.

You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side, ready to project your own insecurities onto Seonghwa for the sake of making him look so bad, he would hopefully decide to just storm out. “Why are you so mad, Seonghwa?” You reached up to run your fingers through his silky, wavy hair, giving him a fake pout. “Is it because everyone knows that the only reason you got into this show is because you let the director fuck you like all those times before? We’ve all seen the photos, you know. They got leaked everywhere.”

It wasn’t until Seonghwa threw a full glass of champagne on you, that everyone around you let out an even bigger gasp. Your hair was wet and sticky, your mascara began to trickle down your contorted face, and worst of all, the outfit you were going to wear down the runway in a few minutes was completely ruined. Filled with a sudden sense of hatred that bordered arousal, you grabbed Seonghwa by the collar, tugging him toward you, your lips almost touching. “You…fucking…cu–”

“Oh, sweetie…” Seonghwa reached his hand up to caress your cheek with an odd gentleness, smearing his thumb down your cheek just to ruin you a little more. “There’s no need to be jealous of me. It’s okay that you’ll never be Hongjoong’s favorite.” He gave you a sweet smile, one that was so angelic, you almost missed the devilish look in his eyes, his thumb now pressing into your bottom lip. “No matter what you do, no matter how much executive cock you suck, you’ll never be me. Accept it and you’ll be less angry…You’ll have less wrinkles too.”

It was just then that the director himself came strolling up with a few members of his frantic entourage, gasping in horror at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N, jesus, what on earth have you done to yourself, darling?” Hongjoong pulled at your sleeves and parts of your garments, tsking every now and then, absolutely appalled with your appearance. “There’s no way in hell you’re walking down my runway like that.”

“Director, please, I haven’t even gotten a chance to walk in tonight’s collection yet!” You shook your head adamantly, getting drops of water onto Hongjoong’s pristine clothes, causing him to grab your shoulders and squeeze them, giving you a look that made you shut up and accept defeat. For now.

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his grimace being replaced by a radiant smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of the model’s shiny hair in between two fingers. “I can’t have problems like these in the middle of my show…Take over Y/N’s place for me, will you, sweetheart?”

Seonghwa gently grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles, leaving a lipstick print behind. “Anything for you, darling.”

Hongjoong blushed and walked away with Seonghwa, his entourage following close behind them, fawning over them in a way that made your blood boil. That should’ve been you, not Seonghwa, not someone who already had their chance in the limelight.

“Y/N, are you okay after… all that?” Wooyoung asked softly, rubbing your shoulder, frowning a bit at the small nod you gave him.

“Yeah, that was brutal to watch…” San mentioned, getting smacked in the shoulder by Wooyoung, pausing to give him a look, before bringing up a cloth to dab it against your dripping face. “You’ll bounce back from this, baby, don’t worry.”

After a few moments of silence, you suddenly pulled the both of them closer to you. “I’m going to be the final one walking down that runway, if it’s the last thing I do.” You leaned in to press a kiss onto both of their lips, looking up at them with big, teary eyes, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Your friends gulped and looked at each other for the consensus, then back at you, their pretty faces full of the same mischievous tenacity you displayed.

࿏࿏࿏

Seonghwa never felt more alive than when he walked down the long, lit-up runway, sashaying his way to the end of it and doing a small elegant turn to the side, smiling ever so softly at the sounds of cheers and clapping coming from the vast crowd, their phones flashing as they eagerly captured the moment and posted it to their socials, most definitely gushing over Seonghwa’s beauty combined with his director’s creative vision, his body swathed in form-fitting, eye-catching cloth. Knowing he took that moment from the bratty newcomer and got to savor it all to himself was simply the cherry on top.

Even when he made his way backstage and sat down to have his hair and makeup redone, the buzz didn’t seem to leave him. The attention didn’t seem to either, his eyes flitting to the side when he began to tune into Wooyoung and San’s conversation as soon as he became the topic.

“Talk to him already,” Wooyoung encouraged, pushing on San’s broad shoulder to get him to move. “You wanna fuck him or not?”

“I’m too shyyy,” San whined obnoxiously, giving his best friend a pout, before covering his face.

“Oh my god, I’ll fuck him then.” Wooyoung casually moved his chair over to Seonghwa, draping one of his hands over the seasoned model’s thighs once he sat down again. “I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly hot you were when you put Y/N in her place earlier…It made me want a turn.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa studied Wooyoung’s enticing features, his gaze settling on the mole that graced his glossy lips. “What exactly got you all hot and bothered?”

Meanwhile, San meekly sat down on the other side of Seonghwa, gently pressing one hand into the older man’s thigh like he was making biscuits. “For me, it was when you threw the champagne in her face…That got me hard…”

Seonghwa turned to look at San, nodding at his pretty, feline-like face with approval, before his chin was grabbed by Wooyoung, his fingers pressing into his cheeks. “For me, it was when you called her out for being a whore…All I could think about was you making me your whore instead…”

“Me first,” San whined, leaning on Seonghwa’s shoulder, trying to pull Seonghwa’s attention from Wooyoung, who gave him the evil eye.

“You cum too fast, San. He should fuck me first,” Wooyoung countered, smiling smugly, wrapping a lock of Seonghwa’s hair around his finger. “I’m versatile, by the way. We can do whatever you want to, baby.”

“Mm, tell me more…” Seonghwa requested, bringing his arms back and around both of their shoulders, enjoying the feeling of being fawned over by two extremely attractive models who seemed to be competing over his attention. Of course they would be. He was an icon.

At this point, the makeup and hair stylist had wandered off to take care of the other models, not having nearly enough time to care about Seonghwa’s current quest in getting his dick wet.

Your plan had all been riding on whether Seonghwa would be self-serving or not, and much to your relief, you spotted him whispering things into the ears of your friends from across the large room, taking the opportunity to fit yourself into the black form-fitting blazer that was matched with a simple black trouser, a few silver necklaces hanging from your exposed collarbone. As it was made for Seonghwa at the last second, the blazer had nothing underneath it, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. It was explicit, to say the least. You already knew in your heart that your director would love it.

And, just like that, Hongjoong came back around the corner with a coffee cup in hand. Upon seeing you, he gasped loudly, stopping dramatically in his tracks, taking a long swig from his cup and handing it off to one of the nameless people next to him, causing everyone around him to look at you, including Seonghwa and your partners in crime. “Darling. Look. At. You.”

“Do you like it, Director?” you asked softly, running one of your fingers along the perfectly stitched lining of your breast pocket.

Hongjoong stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, letting them slowly slide down the sides of your arms, his eyes surveying your perfect form, unable to take his eyes off of your exposed chest. “This is going to turn heads…This is…going to change everything,” Hongjoong sighed out, dollar signs in his eyes and inspiration pouring out of his very soul. He suddenly turned you to face the crowd of people, clutching your shoulders, ready to shed a tear. “Do you see this, everyone? We are witnessing a new era in fashion occur in front of our very eyes. Out with the old, in with the new.”

Your director continued on with his inspiring, soul-gripping speech, which resulted in a sea of tears and a wave of applause from your roused colleagues — yet you couldn’t hear a single thing. All you could focus on was the way Seonghwa’s dark eyes bored into you, his lips screwed into a deep grimace, his fingers gripping his chair so tightly he left indents. He was just waiting for the moment he could tear you apart. And for some odd reason, you welcomed it with open arms as you walked past him with your dear director’s arm hooked around your waist, blowing him a kiss on your way to the main stage to be on display for everyone to see the collection’s final jaw-dropping look.

࿏࿏࿏

“Y/N, baby, you’re trending!” San exclaimed loudly, having to raise his voice so you could hear him over the loud, thumping music that was blasting through the club’s speakers, repositioning himself on the large leather couch you all sat on. He kept his arm securely around Wooyoung’s waist, leaning across him to show you countless posts that showcased you strutting down the runway.

Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder, taking a drink from his glass, giggling to himself. “I think at least five million people have seen your tits already.”

“And, here’s to five million more,” you mused, holding your own glass up to clink it against Wooyoung’s and San’s, and a couple other drunk models that sat around the VIP lounge. After you downed your drink, you got up, wobbling a bit. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry back, okay? We have to take more celebratory shots!” San shouted at you as he watched you give him an ‘okay’ sign, before you disappeared into the large, sweaty crowd.

Little did you know, a cat and mouse game had begun inside that overcrowded club, your trek to a bathroom that didn’t already have someone pissing or fucking inside it no longer a solo adventure. Seonghwa weaved in between patrons, following close behind you, his dark gaze alone deterring anyone from trying to stop him and get in his pants.

It was when you found a lone, empty bathroom that he knew it was his time to strike, to teach you a much needed lesson, to show you who was really on top.

You barely had a chance to check the current state of your makeup when Seonghwa came barging in, pinning you to one of the sinks before you could catch your breath. “S-Seonghwa? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act surprised now, you slut,” Seonghwa spat, shoving one of his thighs in between yours, his high heel clicking lightly against the tile floor below. He leaned in so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You thought you could beat me, yeah? Thought you could parade around like a whore and take my place? Take what’s rightfully mine?”

The more you tried to resist him, the more he shoved his thigh into your barely clothed core, the friction causing a small gasp to leave your lips. Not wanting to give in, you reached up to caress the huffing man’s cheek, smiling sweetly up at him. “Oh, sweetie, is this about Hongjoong? Are you upset that you can taste my wet cunt on his cock when you suck him off?”

Seonghwa suddenly grabbed you by the throat, his grip just tight enough to make your head go fuzzy, leaning in just close enough that his lips ghosted over yours, chuckling lightly at the strained moan that escaped your parted lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat…Why is that? Is it because you want me to put you in your place, Y/N?”

At this point in time, you were so wet, you were actively leaving a wet patch on Seonghwa’s expensive suede pants, unable to keep more sounds of pleasure from bubbling out of your tight throat when Seonghwa grabbed your hip with his free hand and began to actively drag your cunt across his thigh, able to feel his straining cock pressing into your heat.

“Answer my question, whore…Or are you that empty-headed already? Got cock on the brain?” Seonghwa questioned, hooking his fingers into the hem of your pants and pulling them off of you, not surprised to see your cunt in all its glistening glory, positioning you back onto his thigh so that you could eagerly grind yourself along it.

“Please fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me, Seonghwa,” you asked in between breaths, holding desperately onto his shoulders, incidentally pulling his thin blazer from his shoulders, revealing his perfect, glowing skin underneath.

“I do hate you. I hate your fucking guts,” Seonghwa growled, suddenly ripping your blouse completely open, grabbing and groping at your tits, squeezing your nipples roughly between his ringed fingers.

“Then rearrange them,” you growled back, grabbing either side of his jaw, the both of you meeting in the middle, your heated kiss consisting more of teeth and tongue than anything else.

Seonghwa lifted you up onto the sink, fumbling with his designer belt, encouraging you to reach down and help him pull it off for him, feeling his heavy cock drop into your hands. He groaned into your open mouth when you began to jerk him off, breaking the rough kiss to begin attacking your neck, making sure he left you with pretty purple bruises on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned, hooking your thighs around his impossibly slim waist, feeling him starting to rub the length of his cock across your aching cunt, the pronounced ridge of his cockhead repeatedly hooking onto your clit. “Do you have a condom?”

Seonghwa shook his head, cementing one hand around your waist, guiding the head of his cock into your tight entrance, your inner walls straining to take someone of his size inside. “You’re going to take my cock like a good slut, yeah? Going to let me fuck you raw, aren’t you?”

“Nnngh, n-no one fucks me raw, not even Hongjoong,” you whimpered pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, unable to do anything but take Seonghwa’s hot, pulsing length inside you inch by inch, about to melt into a puddle by the time he was fully sheathed inside you.

“Well, aren’t I a lucky man?” Seonghwa purred softly into your ear, just as he began bucking his hips up into you, reaching up to create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging it each time he brought you down onto his cock, unable to keep himself from letting out a few breathy laughs of pure satisfaction, due to watching you completely fall apart inside his arms. “You like this, brat? No one’s fucked you on their cock like this, have they? No one’s ever treated you like the shameless cum dump you are. What a shame…”

“S-eong-hwa…!” you gasped, unable to speak with the way your breath was getting punched out of you each time the furious model slammed himself back into you, swearing he was going to bruise your cervix with such rough treatment — and you couldn’t have been wetter. “Please…!”

“Please, what? No, you know what? I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. Now, open your fucking mouth,” Seonghwa grunted in between brutal thrusts, reaching up in between your sweaty, disheveled bodies to force your jaw open, sending a wad of spit directly down your throat, feeling your cunt clench around him when he did. “Oh, you like that? Of course you do.”

“Aaah,” you whined, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, feeling almost completely blissed out when Seonghwa sent another wad of saliva onto your tongue, the both of you watching it drip down, before you swallowed it. “Gonna cum…”

“Course you are, you pathetic little cock slut…” Seonghwa reached down to rub his thumb roughly against your clit, still pounding into you with so much vigor, he had to time his breathing so that he didn’t get too lightheaded, routinely blowing wet locks of hair out of his focused eyes. “I’m going to cum too…going to fill this whore cunt with my load. Fill you up so deep, I’ll knock you up…I’ll own you…”

It was then that you began to cry, holding onto Seonghwa so tightly your fingers cramped up, your lower half cramping up in a similar fashion, feeling your warm arousal soak the both of you, allowing Seonghwa to slip in and out of you even easier than before. “Cum…inside…make me yours, Seonghwa…” you whispered, finally submitting to the man that you had been fighting with for who knows how long, about to willingly let him pump a baby into you.

If only your friends could see you now. They’d probably livestream it and give the audience a play by play from the sidelines, those sick fucks. You loved them for it.

“Hey, eyes on me. Don’t fade out just yet, not while your tight little slut hole is milking me dry,” Seonghwa mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip to catch your attention. He slid out fully and slipped back in one more time, holding you completely still, letting out groan after groan as he pumped his cum into you, not stopping until every last drop made it into your womb. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to your heaving abdomen, making you feel the pouch he created inside you, giving you butterflies from the sensation. “Feel that, Y/N? That’s the proof of my ownership. You’re no longer a mindless slut for just anyone’s cock, are you?”

“No…” you murmured, shaking your head, so dizzy from being fucked into submission that you simply leaned forward and rested your head against his heated shoulder. “I’m yours, Seonghwa…”

Seonghwa felt a sudden swell of pride inside his chest, his brain and body tingling with pleasure, like he was back on stage again, surrounded by a crowd of people that praised him, that so desperately wanted what he had to offer. He hugged you close, pressing his lips against your ear, his lips forming a soft smile. “Say that again.”

You smiled into Seonghwa’s neck, almost not wanting to let go of him, an unfamiliar warmth that rudely accompanied your hatred now present within your chest. “Now, let’s not get carried away.”

fff taglist: @itza-meee @chnt1 @k-hotchoisan @wonyobie @vampiregirl215 @christmastodoroki @luvt0kki @goldnhwa @choisanboobenthusiast @icyb3rry @maximofftrash @choism @yunhosmelonbar @nebulousbookshelf @astayinwonderland @slutologyy @10nantscompanion @ddaeing @pandagirl-016 @horanghae8 @smally97 @ateezzzser @bubblegumbird @midnightmaja @i2nsstuff @asimpelslut @wisejudgedragonhairdo @deathbyyeekies @firefox79 @wildesreblogs @everyonewooeverywhere @raspberrysannie @channiespup @abby-grace @seonghwaddict @mxnsxngie @jeongwangjessmina

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#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #wonderlandnet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #seonghwa smut #san smut #wooyoung smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios

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xoxochb · 6 months ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * ten things I hate about you

warnings: longggg as helll and it would’ve been longer too but I cut half the ending and I’ll put it in the next part so the chapters aren’t years long AND credits to lynn painter the story isn’t mine along with quotes!!!

pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

series master list

your day started off great today! your cat mr. fitzpervert left a hairball in your slipper, you burnt your ear with the hair straightener and when you walk out of your house you see your long time next door nemesis sitting on the hood of your car

“hey!” you slide your sunglasses up your nose, hightailing in his direction, making sure you’re careful not to ruin your new floral flats “get off my car, you weirdo!”

percy jumped off, holding his hands up in a I’m innocent pose, even though his smirk said differently. regardless of his current demeanor you knew him since kindergarten, he’s never been innocent a day in his life

“what’s in your hand?”

“nothing” he put his hand behind his back “you’re so paranoid”

you walk up to him, squinting your eyes up at his face. though he claims to be innocent his sea green eyes twinkle with mischief. you knew you we’re screwed because mischievous percy always won

you poked him in the chest. “what did you do to my car?”

“I didn’t do anything to your car, per se”

“per se?”

“woah. watch your filthy mouth, y/l/n”

you roll your eyes, which made his mouth slide into a grin before he said, “this has been fun, and I just love your granny shoes, by the way, but I’ve gotta run”

“percy-”

he turned and walked away before you could finish speaking. when he got to his porch he opened the screen door and yelled over his shoulder, “have a great day, y/n!”

that’s not a good sign. that could’ve been legitimate. you and percy had been enemies since forever, in a war over the one available parking spot. percy only won because he was a dirty cheater, thinking it’s funny to reserve the spot by putting miscellaneous objects in the spot to difficult for you to pick up yourself

yesterday however you won. you called the city after he had left his car in the spot for three days, earning him a parking ticket

you checked all four tires before climbing into the car and buckling your seat belt. you heard percy laugh, and when you went to glare at him through your passenger window his front door slams shut

then you saw what was so funny

the parking ticket had now been on your car for all to see, stuck to the windshield with tons of clear packaging tape. you got out of the car and tried to pry it off but it wouldn’t budge

what a tool

💌

when you finally made it to school after scraping your window with a razor blade and doing hard-core deep breathing to reclaim your zen, you entered the building with the bridget jone’s diary soundtrack playing. when your music was playing this loud it was easier to walk through the crowded hallways, ignoring rambunctious teenagers

you headed to the second floor bathroom where you met annabeth every morning. your best friend was an insane over sleeper so every morning she would rush to do her makeup before the first bell rang

“y/n, I love that dress!” annabeth threw you a side glance between cleaning up her eyes, then opening her mascara and swiping the wand over her lashes

you went over to the mirror to straighten out your vintage dress, making sure it’s not in any awkward position. you catch sight of two cheerleaders vaping behind you, giving them a closed-mouth smile

“do you try to dress like the leads in your movies, or is it just a coincidence?” annabeth asked

“don’t say ‘your movies’ like I’m a porn addict or something”

“you know what I mean,” annabeth said as she separated her lashes with a safety pin

you knew exactly what she meant. you watch your mothers beloved rom-coms every night, using her dvd collection you inherited from her after she died. annabeth didn’t know about how close you had been with your mother, although you lived on the same street for many years, you were never really close until sophomore year. she always thought your love for romance movies was due to you being a hopeless romantic

once finished, annabeth put her makeup back in her backpack and grabbed her coffee. “come on”

you take a last glance in the mirror. “wait- I forgot lipstick”

“we don’t have time for lipstick”

“there’s always time for lipstick”

you search your bag until you grab hold of your new favorite shade- retrograde red. “you go ahead, I’ll catch up”

she left and you rubbed the color over your lips- much better. you tucked the lipstick back in your bag and exited the bathroom

when you got to class you sat in the desk between annabeth and drew tanaka

“what’s the answer to number eight?” annabeth was writing fast as she tried to complete her homework. “I forgot about the reading and I have no idea why gatsby’s shirts made daisy cry”

you pulled out your worksheet and allowed her to copy your answers. your eyes shifted over to drew. if surveyed, everyone on the planet would agree that she was beautiful, her whole appearance extremely appealing to the eye, an absolute indisputable fact. however her soul was the complete opposite

you disliked her so very much

on the first day of kindergarten she’d caused a scene when you got a bloody noise, the entire glass gawked at you in disgust. In third grade she told your crush at the time your notebook was filled with love notes about him (which was true but he didn’t need to know that). In fifth grade, after your mom died, drew sat next to you at lunch, displaying the perfect lunch her mother had made. sandwiches were cut into adorable shapes, homemade cookies, brownies with sprinkles; it had been a treasure trove of kiddie culinary masterpieces

to this day everyone thought drew was an angel, but you knew. you knew all the awful things she’s done

you turned your attention to the front of your room where your teacher began collecting last nights homework. you passed your papers forward and began talking about literary things. you took glances around your eyes until they stopped on a boy you went out with a few weeks ago. he gave you a chin nod from his desk, you returned a smile

he was nice but the relationship wasn’t it. this is how most of your relationships went though. you would see a cute guy, daydream about him, think he’s your soulmate, then you got the ick

annabeth always said you were browsing not buying. she ended up being right- as always. this messed up your prom potential. you wanted to go with someone who would make your breath catch and heart flutter, but who was left in the school that you haven’t considered?

technically you had a prom date- you were going with annabeth. the problem was that going to prom with your best friend felt like a fail. you knew you’d have a good time. but prom was about poster/board promposals, matching corsages, speechless awe over the way you like in your dress, and sweet kisses under the cheesy disco ball

andrew mccarthy and molly ringwald pretty in pink sort of shit

My phone buzzed, snapping you from your trance

annabeth: I have BIG tea.

you looked over at her, but she appeared to be listening to the teacher you glanced at her before responding: spill it

annabeth: FYI I got it via text from kate.

you: so it might not be true. Got it.

the bell rang, so you grabbed my stuff and shoved it into my bag. annabeth and you started walking toward your lockers, and she said, “before I tell you, you have to promise you’re not going to get all worked up before you hear everything”

“oh my god, what’s going on?”

you turned down the west hall and before you had the chance to look at her, you saw him walking towards you

jason grace?

“aaaand there’s my tea” annabeth said, but you weren’t listening

jason had lived down the street when you were little. you’d loved him as far back as you could remember. he’d always been next-level amazing, smart, sophisticated- totally dreamy

jaosn came over and wrapped me in a hug, and you let my hands slide around his shoulders. your stomach went wild as you felt his fingers on your back

oh. my. god.

you was dressed for it; he was beautiful. could this moment be more perfect? you made eye contact with annabeth, who was slowly shaking her head, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered

jason was back!

@fratbrochrisgf @maybxlle @lastolympus @lara20aral

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #pjo spoilers #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jakson #percy jackson x reader

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evvyyypeters-fics · 6 months ago

Text

Oh My Days!

Cooper Day x f!reader

Warnings! Underage intoxication, fluff, way too much fluff

Reupload of a request by my lovely pookie wookie and numba one fan @jazz-berry

“STOP! NO! PLEASE!”

The woman on the TV screamed horrifically, practically piercing my ears from the speakers as she ran from the tall, menacing serial killer chasing after her with a bloodied ax. I jumped a little at the sound, my heart pounding in my chest as my breathing became unsteady. Cooper looked over at me, noticing my frightened behavior that I hadn’t seemed to realize as my eyes were glued to the screen in shock.

He wrapped a caring arm around my shoulder, causing me to look at him and see the gentle expression on his face which helped me rest my nerves a bit and come back to reality.

“Getting a little too invested, huh?” He asks, a small smile on his face.

I blush, a little shy and embarrassed that it had been so obvious I was enthralled.

“Want to watch something else? Is it too scary for you?” He asks, a genuine tone that swells my heart with even more affection for my sweet boyfriend.

I glance between him and the TV and nod.

“Alright. What do you want to watch?” He asks, scanning my face as I thought of an answer for a moment. He made sure to pause the TV, removing the distraction of the continuous bloody-murder screams.

“Can we watch The Princess Bride…?” I mumbled shyly. Even though he was my boyfriend of 3 years now, I was still anxious to ask him to watch corny romance movies and chick flicks with me. He knew that about me though, so he smiled even bigger as if to comfort me as he enthusiastically got up and walked back to the cabinet that was down the hall in his room to find the VHS in his collection. We both knew he had it because eventually he bought all of my favorite movies so we could watch them together. I waited patiently for him on the couch, folding my hands in my lap and swinging my legs over the end of the couch, brushing my socks against the carpet.

That’s when I noticed Cooper’s backpack in the corner of my eye appearing on the end of his side of the couch, now revealed once he got up from his seat. Cooper always carried snacks in his backpack for the both of us, and he didn’t mind that I borrowed the things inside of it. We had a mutual trust and understanding. So it wasn’t unusual for me when I opened the bag and dug through, coming across an opened package of colorful gummies. I had never seen this brand before, assuming it was some sort of off-brand convenience store gummy candy.

I opened the package, not bothering to read the label, and took one of the gummies out to taste it. I popped it in and savored the flavor. It was super fruity and sweet. Pleasantly surprised by the taste, I began eating more out of the bag. I had gotten through half of the bag until I finally had my fill of the super sugary treat. I left the bag on the coffee table, sure that Cooper wouldn’t even bat an eye at it.

He finally came back after scourging through the mess of DVDs, CDs and VHS tapes, The Princess Bride firmly in his hand. I turned my head up to look at him as he got closer to the couch and smirked, flashing his brow up as he shook the VHS gently in his hand. A strange tingle in my stomach that made me feel a little more ticklish than usual, causing the feeling of a trapped giggle in my throat to appear. He flashed another smile back at me as he walked over to the VHS player and took out the other movie, replacing them. Once the movie was set up and began to play, he got back up from the floor to sit back next to me on the couch, sneakily making sure to sit closer than he was before.

That’s when I noticed his eyes dart to the gummy bag on the table, a strange look of confusion on his face I hadn’t expected. He turned to me with that very same look.

“Did you eat those?” He asks in a calm, yet curious voice.

“Yes…” I trail, worrying if I should have to apologize. A pit in my stomach of guilt forming.

“You do know those are…weed gummies…,right?” He raises a brow.

My face drops for a minute and I begin to piece everything together, a flush of embarrassment now washing over my face and turning the apples of my cheeks visibly pink. Cooper knows that I don’t smoke or drink, so he was curious why I had eaten the gummies, or if I had even known.

“N-no…” I stuttered shyly.

“How many did you eat?” He asks, now amused as he chuckles a bit, a quiet smile appearing on his face.

“Like ... .half” I said hesitantly, my voice lowering into a squeak.

“Half of what? A gummy?” He asks quizzically, an open smile on his face as he watches me.

“....the bag..” I squeak in a soft voice again.

There’s a pause of silence and I almost expected him to get mad, but to my pleasant surprise he just begins laughing.

“Oh god, you didn’t!” He wheezes, wiping tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he holds his squeezing stomach as the laughter just keeps coming. My face became even more flushed, but a tickle from his laugh fluttered in my stomach and I began smiling, the smile turning into a giggle, the giggle turning into a fit of laughs. We laughed ourselves tired until our bodies practically couldn’t anymore.

The movie is already 10 minutes in and I wasn’t even paying attention. I lean back against the couch, the weed not even taking full effect yet, so I expected to just be able to sit back and watch the movie and be fine.

“Inkchosheviable…” I slurred in a purposeful ‘comedic’ accent 30 minutes later. I instantly burst into a fit of giggles afterwards and Cooper just looks at me as if he’s already exhausted from my ridiculous behavior.

“Look, look!” I look at him as I point at the TV screen and he just keeps his eyes focused on me, his chin in his hand as he listens to me with a gentle smile and a new amused look in his eyes; like he was curiously invested in how I was reacting to the gummies, yet it was if he was protecting me from making myself look too stupid. I hadn’t been able to realize at the moment because of the giggles bubbling inside of me.

“He…it’s like…he’s kinda reminds me of a…a ... ..a potato!” I instantly began laughing as my words were slow and felt light weight from my mouth. Each ‘joke’ I made was horrible, but from the way I was laughing, it could have convinced anyone it was the funniest joke in the world.

Cooper just continued to sit there and watch, that same protective and watchful demeanor looming over him like an aura.

I stood up from the couch and looked at Cooper, a stupid grin on my face. I grab a pillow and balance it on my head.

“Look, I’m Princess Teacup” I say in a terrible royal accent, I instantly start laughing when I realize I said the name wrong. “Princess Teacup!” I wheezed, kneeling over as I laughed. I lifted back up and placed the pillow back on my head and Cooper finally stood up and came over to me, looming over me as he titled his head down and swiped the pillow off my head.

“Come on.” He says, taking my hand carefully and sitting me back down on the couch.

“You want some water?” He asks, becoming a little concerned as I was acting out like crazy. I just looked up at him with a puzzled look, confused why he wasn’t laughing with me anymore.

“Yeah.” I say after an accidental pause, my gaze fixated on him as he slowly walked over to the kitchen to get me a cup of water.

“Stay there.” He warns with a soft voice, pointing a low finger as he turns his back to me.

I sit there on the couch, bored and patient. I fidgeted and looked around the room, eyes darting as I started feeling strangely lonely, even though I knew Cooper was only in the next room over. The distant sound of cups falling and the refrigerator opening and humming echoing from his presence in the kitchen. My heart sank a little and I felt strangely clingy, wanting to go in there and jump on him and squeeze him until neither of us could breathe anymore.

I felt like a dog left out in the rain, waiting for it’s owner to let them back in. I hated having to sit on the couch and wait for him, I didn’t even feel like watching the movie anymore. Not without him sitting next to me.

“Hey princess, here’s your water.” The words echo in my ears as I lift my head and look over to the doorway to see Cooper walking back over to me with a glass of iced water in his hand. My face instantly lights up as I lift myself up on the couch and take the water gratefully from his hand, my eyes glowing wide as saucers as I planted my gaze on him as I took a sip. He sat down next to me on the couch again and I felt happier than I have in the past two weeks even though I already spent most of that time with him anyways. Guess that’s what being on half a bag of weed gummies does to someone who barely even touched a beer in their life.

Cooper laughs shyly at me as he notices the brightness radiating from my energy now, my eyes boring onto him.

“What?” He chuckles through the syllables in a pillowy manner.

“Nothing.” I chirp in a starkly calm voice compared to before, entranced by the glow of his boba pearl eyes, outlined by the black eyeliner and eyeshadow he had on. “You’re just…so…pretty…” I say slowly, as if dazed by the boy in front of me. His cheeks turn a slight pink, embarrassed by my off-guarded confession.

“You’re seriously high off your rocker, drink your water.” He deflects, his gaze flicking to the glass still in my hand. I joined him and looked down at it before abiding and taking another small sip, and then another, before I was downing the whole glass eagerly.

“Guess I was right about you being thirsty…” He giggles while flashing a small mischievous grin.

“Yeah…” I put the glass down on the coffee table slowly, my words matching the pace. Raising my head back up from the table, I look at him, my eyes a bit more droopy. “I’m real thirsty…” I say, my mouth feeling like my teeth were too big for it when I spoke. Cooper watched me, confused, his eyes scanning my expression.

I leaned forward slowly, placing a warm palm to the side of his neck as I planted my lips onto the other side. I hear his breathing shudder for a moment, his shoulders relaxing, eyelashes fluttering closed as he silences a groan tickling the back of his throat while I plant slow kisses along his neck. He melts quickly like usual, seemingly never changing from the first time we got together. He realized he was getting distracted by my loving attack and instantly his eyes shot open and he grabbed my shoulders, gently pulling me away and removing the latch I had on his neck.

He looks me in the eyes, a stern almost serious look in them.

“You’re high, quit it.” He says, and that’s all I need to hear despite the disappointment. I pouted at him and nodded complicitly.

“Sorry, it’s just…we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just watch the movie right now and wait for it to wear off.” He says, his expression changing like he was worried he had upset me, trying to soften the initial blow of his rejection. It was the first time he had rejected me and my advances before.

I look at him with a soft look, feeling bad for putting him in an awkward spot. I glanced at the TV screen for a moment, flicking it in the corner of my eye and seeing that the movie had already ended.

“Aw man, I missed the ending..” I frowned, instantly distracted by what just happened already. I could feel he was relieved by this and he smiled at me.

“We can rewatch it.” He suggests.

“No, I’m over it now.” I could hear him stifle a giggle and I turned to him, giving a glare that he only categorized as ‘cute’.

“Fine, we can pick another and go to bed.” He shrugs. “So, what are we going to watch?”

We spent the rest of the afternoon and into the night cuddling in each other’s arms, almost still and quiet as we watched movies and chewed on popcorn. The occasional outburst or giggle coming from either of us every 30 minutes that sometimes lead into laughing fits. I think at some point I laughed myself to sleep, because I woke up in Cooper’s bed the next morning, wrapped in the sheets, as he sat leaning as far back as he could in his computer desk chair. His mouth stupidly agape and his neck tilted over the back of the chair, causing me to grin to myself before realizing how shitty I felt.

Guess I needed to learn to be careful reading labels of what’s in Cooper’s bag before I take anything, if we do share it.

Taglist:

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife

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mattsobvimyfav · 1 month ago

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roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 24 -

a/n - Happy New Year!!!!

Winter break had officially begun, and we were all home for the next month. Classes were done, dorm rooms were left behind, and now it was time to relax and enjoy the holidays.

The crisp December air felt refreshing as I stepped out of the car and stretched after the drive back home. My dad was already waiting at the door, a big smile on his face as he came to grab my bags.

“Welcome home, honey,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Thanks, Dad,” I smiled, hugging him back. The warmth of being home was comforting.

Matt, Chris, and Nick had also made their way back home, and it wasn’t long before the group chat lit up with plans to hang out. Despite loving spending time with them, I looked forward to spending some quality time with my dad.

Snow coated the ground outside, and the streets were decorated with twinkling lights. It is my favorite time of year, it just seems like everyone is happier during the holidays.

The camera was rolling in the Sturniolo living room, the tree lit up in the background, and the boys were already in youtube mode as they started unwrapping the gifts they’d gotten each other.

“And now, for the most anticipated moment,” Chris announced dramatically, gesturing off-frame. “Our special guest, Y/N!”

I walked into the frame, holding three gift bags, one for each of them. “You guys better love these,” I sat next to Chris, setting the bags down on the floor in front of them. “I put actual thought into these.”

Nick went first, reaching for his bag with excitement. “What’d you get me?” he asked, pulling out a RuPaul T-shirt. His face lit up. “No way! You know me so well”

“And that’s not all,” I said with a grin. He reached in again and pulled out a stuffed duck. Nick screamed. “You’re the worst, I could kill you” he said, holding it up to the camera, Immediately throwing it out of frame.

Chris went next. He pulled out his gift, revealing an orange sweatshirt with a custom-printed Pepsi can on the front. His mouth fell open. “YES!,” he yelled, holding it up for the camera. “This is my new favorite hoodie.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, smirking.

Then it was Matt’s turn. He reached into his bag and first pulled out a pair of new sneakers he’d been eyeing. “No way,” he said, running his fingers over them. “These are sick.” Then he pulled out a black hoodie, noticing something embroidered on the wrist.

“It’s our dorm number,” I explained. “Figured you might want something to remind you of it when we’re back at school.” I said in a duh kind of tone.

Matt looked at me with that rare, softer expression he only gave when the cameras weren’t rolling. “This is perfect,” he said, setting it aside carefully, leaning over Chris to kiss my forehead.

“My turn,” I said. “What did you guys get me?”

Nick handed me his gift first: a collection of vinyl records from the neighborhood, my favorite and a matching record player. My jaw dropped. “Nick, this is amazing,” I said, getting up and pulling him into a tight squeeze.

I sat back down next to Chris who handed me a box next: a personalized photo album full of pictures from the semester, “I figured it’d be cool to look back on,” he said, grinning.

“You've always been a secret softy, thank you I love it” I said pulling him in,

Lastly, Matt handed me a small, neatly wrapped package. Inside was a silver tennis bracelet engraved with a ‘M’ on the clasp. “I know how much you love Chris’ tennis bracelet, thought you'd like your own,” he said simply, looking down trying to keep up his brooding personality.

I slipped the bracelet on as Chris helped me with the clasp and I stared at Matt “You're the best” I said, as soon as Chris was done with the clasp I flung myself on Matt which sent him flying into the back of the couch as I kissed all over his face.

I stepped out of the frame letting the boys continue their gifting to each other. I turned just in time to see Nick accidentally hit Matt in the face with a calendar. Matt immediately smacked the back of Nick’s head in retaliation.

“Matt!” I yelled, “Chill the fuck out! It was an accident.”

“Tell him that!” Matt retorted, rubbing his face.

Nick, looking around, held the calendar up like a shield. “It was an accident”

Matt grabbed the calendars and whipped them at the wall. I shook my head, annoyed at Matt's dramatics. I rolled my eyes sitting back behind the camera, through out the rest of the video. Matt threw about five of the gifts but once it was finally over it was around eleven at night.

“Matt, gotta drive me home” I said standing up as Nick turned off the camera.

“Ok sweetheart, lets go” He stood from the couch smoothing out his pants. Me, Nick and Chris shared hugs and merry christmas’ before me and Matt departed back to my house.

“Thank you for the ride home” I said leaning over to kiss Matt goodbye.

“Do you guys want to come for dinner tomorrow? My parents told me to invite you guys” Matt asked as I stepped out of the car

“Ill let you know! Good night matthew!” I yelled as I ran up the stairs of the house.

Christmas morning was quiet and warm, the soft glow of the tree filling the living room as my dad and I settled into our usual spots. Even though it was just the two of us, the entire living room floor was completely covered in gifts.

“Morning, honey,” my dad said, smiling at me from his armchair, coffee mug in hand.

“Morning, Dad,” I said, settling onto the floor in front of the tree, my own coffee warming my hands.

We took turns opening presents, talking and laughing as the pile of wrapping paper grew at our feet. My dad’s grin got wider with each gift he opened, and I could feel my own cheeks starting to ache from smiling so much.

“Looks like Santa went crazy this year,” I teased as he picked up another box.

“Santa knows how much I love spoiling you,” he replied with a wink.

By the time we finished, the floor was littered with ribbons and wrapping paper, and I could feel the warmth of the morning settle deep in my chest. This was what Christmas was all about—just the two of us, sharing a moment that felt special in its simplicity.

“I’m gonna take these upstairs,” I told him, scooping my gifts into my arms.

“Okay, let me know when you want breakfast” my dad yelled as I took as many gifts in my hands as I could.

After three trips everything was on the bed and I took a moment to take it all in. It wasn’t about the gifts; it was about how much love my dad poured into making this morning feel special.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, my phone propped up on a pillow as I hit the FaceTime button for Matt. After a few rings, his sleepy face appeared on the screen, his hair messy and his voice groggy.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “You woke me up.”

“Good,” I cheered. “Merry Christmas! Do you want a haul?”

He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto his pillows. “Sure, let’s see what Santa brought you this year, Princess.”

I grinned and grabbed my first gift. “Okay, first, these,” I said, holding up my new Tasman platform Uggs.

“Great, more shoes,” he sighed.

“Wait, there’s more!” I grabbed my new Converse and showed them off. “Aren’t they cute?”

He rolled his eyes, sitting up slightly. “What’s next?”

I continued, showing him my new clothes, my new phone still in its box, and the new bedspreads I got for school and home. When I pulled out my Owala and Stanley cups, he finally cut in.

“Why do you need two new water bottles?”

“Excuse me,” I defended. “they’re cute.”

Matt shook his head. “You’re way too fucking spoiled, you know that?”

“I know,” I said, grinning back at him.

After almost an hour of going through everything, I looked at him expectantly. “Well? Impressed?”

“Exhausted,” he yawned. “But yeah, I’m impressed. Your dad really went all out.”

“He always does,” I said.

Matt stretched, finally pulling himself out of bed. “Well, I’m gonna go open my gifts now. We’re having dinner at 5, by the way. You coming?”

“Ill let you know, I have to ask my dad” I said, smiling at him through the screen.

“Alright. I’ll see you later, spoiled brat.”

“See you later, grumpy,” I shot back before ending the call.

After setting up my new phone and transferring everything over, I decided it was time to make a haul for TikTok. Propping my phone up on my dresser, I started recording, holding up everything I’d gotten from my dad and the triplets.

I showed off the custom tennis bracelet Matt got me, Chris’s scrapbook, Nick’s vinyl collection, and then moved on to the gifts from my dad, careful not to leave anything out.

“Okay, that’s everything,” I said at the end of the video. “I love literally every last thing I got!”

I posted the TikTok with the caption, Christmas Haul! Feeling so grateful this year. Then I started putting everything away, finding space for all my new stuff.

An hour later, I grabbed my phone and opened TikTok to check on the post. My jaw dropped. The video had blown up, again, already racking up thousands of views and comments.

Some people were commenting about how much they loved the haul:

“This is so cute! You got amazing stuff!”

“Now these are the hauls I wanna see.”

But, of course, others were quick to call me spoiled:

“Okay, we get it, you’re rich.”

“Must be nice having everyone buy you everything.”

I laughed at other people's jealousy and bitterness but smiled when I saw the triplets had already commented:

Matt: my spoiled girl

Chris: my gifts gotta be the best

Nick: god i love your whole life

I laughed, liking only their comments.

The mix of reactions didn’t bother me. I was happy and loved everything I got, so I closed the app and moved on with my day.

I headed downstairs, my socks padding quietly against the hardwood floor as I found my dad in the living room, watching one of his favorite Christmas movies. He glanced up as I entered, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, honey,” he said, pausing the movie. “What’s up?”

I sat down on the arm of the couch, swinging my legs a little. “The triplets’ parents invited us over for Christmas dinner again. Do you want to go? Kinda like Thanksgiving.”

He tilted his head, considering. “You want to go?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think it’d be fun. Plus, it’s not like we have big plans here. And you know how much Jimmy and MaryLou love having us over.”

He chuckled. “They do seem to like feeding us, don’t they?”

I grinned. “Exactly. What do you say?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “Alright. Let’s do it. But only if I don’t have to cook anything.”

I laughed. “Deal. I’ll text Matt and let him know we’re coming.”

Dad smiled, picking up the remote again. “Sounds good. Now go get ready—don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased, hopping off the couch and heading back upstairs to grab my things.

After dinner, Matt and I found ourselves upstairs in his room. Matt and I were mid-way through filming a TikTok to Santa Baby. The song played softly in the background as he lifted me effortlessly into his arms, spinning me around while we both lip-synced the lyrics.

I laughed through the words, my hands resting on his shoulders as he twirled us. The room blurred around me, and I couldn’t help but giggle at how over-the-top it all was.

“Santa, baby,” I sang, looking down at him as he grinned up at me. He joined in, purposely off-beat but making the moment even funnier.

As the chorus ended, he set me down gently, and we both dissolved into laughter, barely able to keep it together for the next part of the song.

Matt looked at me with a mischievous grin. “You should just stay the night,” he said casually, making me raise an eyebrow. “I mean, it’s Christmas, and I don’t think either of our parents will mind.”

I smiled at the suggestion. “I’ll ask my dad.”

I stood up and headed downstairs to find my dad in the living room with Matt’s parents. “Hey, Dad, is it okay if I stay over here tonight? We were gonna make Christmas cookies and watch movies and stuff.”

My dad looked up, a smile tugging at his lips. “Of course, honey. Just be careful and text me when you get home tomorrow.” He gave me a quick hug, and I rushed back upstairs. “Im leaving in a little while! Goodnight, love you”

“LOVE YOU!” I yelled running up the stairs

Matt was already waiting, “So?”

“They’re fine with it,” I said, sitting down beside him.

“Well then, let’s go get the guys,” he said with a grin, standing up.

“Pajamas first please” I said standing from the bed, Matt went into his drawer grabbing us each a pair of plaid pajama pants and a sweatshirt from his closet. I got undressed and Matt scoffed.

“Your going to get fucked if you dont put some clothes on” He said as he slipped his pants on.

We made our way down the hallway to knock on everyone's door. When they answered, Matt was the first to speak up. “We’re making Christmas cookies and watching movies. You guys in?”

Nick, still in his pajamas, nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”

Justin chuckled and shook his head. “Only because y/n is here.”

Chris just smirked. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

The five of us made our way downstairs to the kitchen, where their mom was setting up everything we needed for baking. We all pitched in, rolling dough, cutting out shapes, and decorating the cookies. The atmosphere was warm and filled with laughter as we chatted about random things, the holiday spirit in full swing.

After the cookies were done, we gathered in the living room, snacks in hand, ready for the Christmas movie marathon. I laid my legs across Matts lap leaning my head on his shoulder as the starting credits of the nightmare before christmas.

Matt leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” With that, we began the long night of movies.

Tag -

@namelesssav @christmastreecake @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88 @izzylovesmatt

@tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay

@rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @christophersstar @mattscore @whoisthisdiva1

#nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturiolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #roommates

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thedeviltohisangel · 7 days ago

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All The Things I Did (Interlude): Like A Record Scratch

a/n: ok so this is a lot less lovey dovey than we are used to with cass and john and i am not at all sorry about it because we are building up to the big wisconsin fight moment between them. this fic has them in wyoming for the wedding of gale and marge and its our first glimpse into how they are doing post-war and how they are so not dealing with the trauma of being prisoners of war. please come yell at me for the beating i put them through in this interlude. love you!

tw: discussions of miscarriage

There was something exhilarating about walking into the lobby of a hotel. Cass had never been to Wyoming, or anywhere out West really, which aided in her excitement at every sight and sound and smell. She had resisted the urge to hang her head out the window of the taxi from the airport but had smiled at the scenery the entire way and squeezed John’s hand with every glimpse of a mountain or a horse to make sure he saw it too. It had been so long since she’d seen the rolling fields of America and the freedom that came on the back of a horse and she was feeling the sensation of life breathing back into her lungs with every inch traveled.

“Oh, John, isn’t it lovely?” There was a fire roaring to her left, exposed wooden beams along the ceiling and antlers lining the balcony above the reception desk. “It’s just as Marge described.” Cass turned to see her husband who was carrying two large suitcases. Perhaps a quarter of one contained the minimal items he would need for the weekend wedding of his best friend. The rest was a portion of what Cass would require.

“It is lovely, baby.” He kissed her cheek once he reached her. “You want to sit by the fire while I check us in?”

“No, I need to ensure my packages have arrived.”

“Packages?” he asked the back of his wife’s head as she was already strolling confidently towards the desk. He had to admire the sway of her hips for a beat before following. She walked like she owned the place. Damn did he love her. “Good morning. Reservation should be under John Egan.” He made sure to catch up to her before she could check in. A husband should always take charge of things like this. At least, that is what he thought. Being a husband felt new to him even if it had been almost two years. There had been no time to learn or try and fail just to try again. Nothing about their marriage had been conventional and John felt he was on a tight rope in his efforts not to fuck it up. If that meant being a bit more forward, a bit more assertive, leaning into the traditions of the role a bit heavier then so be it.

“I see your name right here, sir. We’ve also received the trunks you had shipped and have already delivered them to your room.” He blanched at the word trunks.

“That is wonderful to hear, thank you. There are a few items in there that will require ironing,” Cass said. John had seen her iron before. He didn’t think there was any reason she’d need a member of housekeeping to assist her.

“Yes, ma’am. I can send a member of housekeeping up after you’ve settled in to collect those items from you.”

“Wonderful, thank you!” John made sure to hand over the requisite bills to cover their stay before Cass could even think of opening the checkbook she had been reunited with recently. Her personal line of accounting to the Cooper family fortune. John still didn’t completely understand the vastness of their empire and the generations of wealth that resided at the other end of those account numbers. He doesn’t think he would until he went to South Carolina and saw it for himself with his own two eyes.

“I didn’t realize you were having things mailed here,” John broached as they boarded the elevator and it rose slowly to their floor.

“Everything that I considered wearing to the wedding was still in South Carolina. And then I started thinking about all the events around the wedding and making sure I had back up outfits for each possible outing and it led to me asking my mother and sister if they wouldn’t mind packaging a couple trunks for me.”

“Trunks? Then what I am holding in here?” He looked down at the bags in his hands.

“Simpler items. Toiletries. Nightwear. My curlers. Things only you will ever see me in and therefore I can wear on more than one occasion.” She didn’t understand why all this was so confusing to him. He had grown up with sisters and a mother, surely this was all par for the course in their lives as well.

“Cass, my love, I don’t think you’re understanding the differences between the society of where you come from back home and the one that is attending this wedding.” John knew for a fact it was no frills. That the wedding only costed exactly what it needed to. That Gale and Marge were just happy to be able to celebrate together and in one piece with all the people they loved. No one would care if Cass wore the same dress twice or didn’t have more than one shade of blue dress at her disposal. It was a concept so foreign to him and where he had come from, he couldn’t even imagine anyone noticing or minding such a thing.

“It’s our first…event as Mr. and Mrs. John Egan. Our first trip together. I just want it to be perfect.” He dropped the bags in front of the door that was theirs and held her upper arms in his hands, cascading his thumb across the skin to soothe the anxiety bubbling out from her.

“I’m here in a beautiful hotel with my beautiful wife celebrating my best friend marrying the love of his life. We survived hell to be here, Spook. It’s already heaven.” Cass smiled and pulled him in for a kiss by the collar of his shirt and his arms wrapped around the small of her back and held her close like it was second nature.

“You sure you don’t mind me going a little overboard?” Was she already failing as a wife? Was she already too much for him to handle just as her mother had warned? Was there a reason no other man had ever wanted to put up with her until one as insidious as Sidney Landry had come along?

“I don’t mind anything as long as you are happy.” And he stood by that as they opened the door and he was, in fact, greeted to two trunks that looked to be made of real leather and were the color of an expensive bottle of cognac. “Cass…”

“What? I’m certain there is more in here than just clothes, probably even some items for you.” It was also the first tangible piece of her life in South Carolina that was back with her after all she had been through. Of course she had exchanged letters with them as often as possible and had managed to sneak in a brief telephone call once she had arrived stateside, but this was a trunk that had been packed by her mother and sisters. It contained articles of clothing she had left behind all those years ago. Clothing Cassandra Ann Cooper had worn. It had never been touched by Captain Cass “Spook” Egan. For the first time, her worlds would be merging. There was something much deeper than just opening this trunk going through her mind.

“Maybe we save the unboxing of the trunks until after the cocktail hour tonight?” He was looking at his watch and trying to do the math on how long Cass might need to get ready, how much time he might need to get ready without overlapping in the powder room with her and then any leftover time he wanted for breaking in the hotel bed. It was the first night together since London that they were sharing a bed that was issued by the United States military. He wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity to take his time acquainting himself with his wife.

“No, I think there is a dress in here I’d like to wear tonight.” A beautiful tan number with buttons up the front with an impossibly cinched waist that was decorated with embroidered flowers there, along the sleeves and the collar. “See? What did I tell you?” Cass opened the trunk to find it was partially full of men’s clothing. Dress shirts, pants, blazers and ties. If her nose was to be trusted, they’d find bottles of cologne tucked in between the fabric as well.

“Baby, I don’t need all this,” he said gently as he thumbed the material and looked at the tags. A brand he had heard of from the mouths of generals and Milwaukee businessmen. Never something he would have thought he’d own himself.

“Look, my mother wrote that she curated each trunk to ensure we don’t clash at all for the entirety of the weekend and she requests we mail her photos of her success,” Cass said with a roll of her eyes as she read the letter that had been enclosed. She wasn’t deliberately ignoring the discomfort in John’s tone but he took it that way anyways.

“I might just fiddle with the radio then while you sort this all out.” He was certain she didn’t even register the words he was saying, too busy taking each item out with meticulous care and placing them in piles corresponding to categories that existed in that wonderful mind of hers. John opened his mouth to check she had heard. To make sure she didn’t want to change her mind and roll around with him in the sheets instead. But he saw the way her eyes were misting at the other trinkets in the trunk; photos, letters from her siblings, a pair of earrings that looked old enough to be a family heirloom. He didn’t want to interrupt that. This avenue of healing and reconciliation he knew she wanted and knew she needed and knew she now had. He didn’t want to interrupt that. No matter how much he missed her.

----

John was right to have been concerned about trying to share a powder room with Cass while they were getting ready. There were elbows everywhere. His toothbrush had been knocked from his mouth when she had leaned as close to the mirror as possible to apply her mascara. Her curlers had been jostled out of their meticulously placed arrangement when he had tried to nibble her ear playfully before shaving the stubble across his cheeks. “John.” Her scolding had sliced through him like white hot coals. It was a tone he hadn’t heard her direct his way before. He wanted to call her on it. Ask why she sounded tired of him. Why she seemed bothered by him wanting to love on her after he had accepted her indifference towards him the entire day.

For two people who had learned to view the jagged edges of their heart as the edges to a puzzle only the other knew how to match, for two people who had thought nothing would ever test them again after the Stalag, a hotel room in Wyoming was proving to be a puzzle they might not be able to solve.

----

It had been wonderful, bringing her near to tears, to see John standing next to Gale during the ceremony’s rehearsal. It reminded her of the bond that had kept the man she loved alive through a war. The bond that was stronger than brothers tied together through blood. It reminded her of their wedding, if one could even call it that, back in London. Just them and a priest and mother with her daughter as witness in the nave of a blown out church. That wedding had signified the last moment of her life where she had that version of John Egan. The last moment of her life where she had thought they would escape this war unscathed and all in one piece. The last moment of their lives where their love was untouchable.

“You may now kiss the bride!” Cass laughed and cheered with the rest of the small group that was participating in the rehearsal and wrapped Marge in the tightest hug when she came to greet her.

“Gosh, you are going to be the most beautiful bride ever tomorrow if this is how you look tonight!” Cass exclaimed as she admired the blue and white floral dress that Marge was currently donning. They had only first crossed paths a couple of months ago when they’d first touched back down in the states but the girls had become thick as thieves faster than John or Gale had even predicted. Cass had divulged to John that she didn’t have many friends back home, no one truly wishing to associate with the girl who broke the mold. So to meet Marge and feel a connection, a kinship, so quickly had sparked such joy within her. Another person for Cass to wish to never let go of.

“Oh, stop. It’s just a warm up for everyone before the showstopper you’re throwing in South Carolina.” Cass shook her head.

“You and Gale…they try to write your kind of love into books and they can never get it right because there are no words to describe it. At least, no one’s invented them yet.” She squeezed Marge’s hands tight and tried not to cry when she saw her friend’s eyes welling up with tears. “An incomparable love. I’m so honored you’ve allowed me here to celebrate with you both.” Marge wrapped her in a hug instantly and they could both feel the other smiling into the crook of their neck. There would always be something special about two women who would never tear each other down and only ever boost the other up. It was something powerful. Something fierce. There was a reason they had survived all that they had.

“What’s going on over here? Happy tears I hope,” John asked as the two men walked up to their sides. “Otherwise, Spook, I hope you’re ready for me to sing and dance a smile right back onto your face.”

“It’s my wedding weekend, Bucky, you have to sing?” Gale groaned at the mere thought of his friend gaining access to a microphone.

“If my wife needs a little serenading to wipe those tears away, then I am afraid you have no chance, Buck.”

It turns out the threat was unnecessary because the presence of her husband alone always brought a smile to her face. They danced and danced and danced and only took breaks to run and hide in the bathroom for a few kisses that bordered on indecent. John completely forgot about the tension from the day. Completely forgot about the lack of belonging he had felt while they were together earlier. The feeling of being on a different page than his wife when they were speaking earlier. He sighed as they danced to the softer music that was now flowing from the record player. His puzzle piece. Back in his arms once again.

“Miss Cass?” The peaceful bubble around them was shattered briefly as a tiny hand was tugging on the hem of her skirt.

“Hi, William,” she answered. The little boy was the ring bearer in tomorrow’s affair, his mother a bridesmaid to Marge.

“Can we dance?” Cass giggled at the earnest look on his face and looked to John.

“I think you should ask Mr. Egan, William.”

“Mr. Egan, can I dance with Miss Cass?”

“You get one song, William. Only one.” The smile from the little boy was missing a tooth as he nodded and took Cass’ hand with a blush to his cheeks. She couldn’t help but smile as he held her hands and watched his feet to make sure he didn’t step on her, his happiness at such a simple act bringing a feeling to her chest that she couldn’t quite place.

“You’re a very good dancer,” she mused as he found the courage to look up into her eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Cass,” he whispered. She squeezed his hands once and bent down for a twirl as he lifted their joined hands. Cass couldn’t help the laugh that sprung from her. It was so simple, so freeing, so perfect, to be the light of the night for little William. “You are very pretty.”

“And you are very handsome.” They matched unbridled smiles and she kissed his chubby cheek as the song came to a close. “Thank you for the dance, William. Maybe we can do it again tomorrow night after the wedding?” He nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, please!” He turned as a woman was calling his name off to the side and waved his goodbye before running to be collected by his mother.

“You’re going to be the most wonderful mother one day, Mrs. Egan.” Cass turned to see Gale’s mother looking at her with admiration in her eyes.

“Thank you, ma’am, I hope I can be.” Something stirred in her chest at the topic of conversation. She thought back to bloodied sheets and a racing heart. The feeling of being alone and empty, her other half behind enemy lines where she couldn’t reach him. Half of him was stored inside her before the universe chose to rip it from her so brutally. A secret she was still keeping from her husband.

“Have you and John discussed that next chapter of her life? Found a place to settle down now that things are mostly back to normal?”

“No, we are visiting our families before we settle.” She prayed their families wouldn’t push too deeply on little Egans. Not until she had the courage to tell John about the one they had come close to having but lost. Not until she found the courage to remember that night herself and realize everything she had lost. All the ways in which she had failed him while he had been fighting for his life in a German POW camp.

“Well, with the way you and John care for each other and the way all the little ones have just been gravitating towards both of you, you’ll have nothing to worry about as you grow your family.” Cass forced a smile onto her face and offered her thanks, just as she had always been taught to by her mother, before excusing herself to use the restroom.

She made sure the door was locked before she allowed her breath to escape in the pant that it wanted to. It was ragged and hoarse as her fingers found purchase on the side of the sink and she squeezed until her knuckles were as white as the porcelain. Why now? Why after she had pushed these feelings and those memories as deep into her soul as they would go? Deeper than even a Nazi interrogation or the image of her husband being dragged to his death through the woods.

“Pull yourself together, Cass, come on. You’re better than this,” she whispered to herself after sparing a glance in the mirror. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not here, not tonight. Don’t ruin this time of happiness for him when you haven’t been able to give that to him in so long.

“Spook? You in here love?” His voice was accompanied by a gentle knock on the door. Almost timid. When had John Egan ever been unsure of himself when it came to his wife?

“I’ll be right out!” Her fingers twisted the sink on quickly and she cleared her throat of the apprehension and dread residing there before physically shaking her muscles loose.

When the door opened, the frame was filled by the wide expanse of his shoulders. There was no way out for her even if she tried. And it took all her training in emotional regulation to not complete fray into pieces under his gaze.

“You seemed to leave the party in quite a hurry,” he mused as he leaned against the wood. John was settling in. He had nowhere else to be other than right here. With the woman he loved, his wife, who was slowly slipping through his fingers.

“Dancing and having conversations doesn’t leave much time to touch up,” she teased back with a little laugh. He didn’t return her laugh and instead lifted his arm to show that he held her purse. Her purse that housed her compact and mirror. Her lipstick and mascara. Everything that she would have needed to actually touch up in the mirror.

“I know we’ve haven’t…we haven’t been great at just talking and checking in recently-”

“That’s my fault. Getting back and traveling and planning and trying to keep it all together. I’ll be better once everything settles,” she promised as her hands pressed to his chest. Because there was that word again. Settle. Settling. Settled. Would she ever find a place where it could be used in the past tense? Would they ever find such a place?

“It’s not on just you or just me.” He reached for her hand and brought her ring to his lips. The thin gold band was barely noticeable unless someone was looking for it. It had been all they could find on such short notice. And they’d told each other he would put his grandmother’s ring on her finger when they made it to South Carolina. “I think we’ve both felt a little lost recently,” he whispered.

“How do we fix it?” Cass had always been good at identifying things that weren’t right. That didn’t fit with her. But she had never gotten the hang of bending to their will in order to make it so.

“I don’t know,” he swallowed around a lump in his throat, “but I know I love you more than anything. I know that will never change.” A tear tracked down her cheek in anticipation. She had to tell him. There would be no forward without this last secret coming to light. They couldn’t begin to work through the ways Germany had changed them if he didn’t know that she had never been the same since that night in the hospital. If he didn’t know that it was that night that led her to that camp in the first place. For if she had lost the piece of him he had left her, the piece of him he should have been able to trust she would keep safe, then she didn’t deserve to live on the other side of that chain link fence.

“There is something I have to tell you, John. Something that happened before I made it to Germany-”

“Not here, love,” John stroked his thumb over her cheek, effectively silencing the confession that was on the edge of her lips like a plea. “Let’s go somewhere we can have some privacy.” She squeezed his hand like a lifeline as he led her out of the bathroom and down the hallway, her heart seizing as the sights and sounds of the crowd began to take shape. Her muscles twitched and she wiped at her face and forced a smile as she readied herself for battle. Readied herself to face a room full of strangers that she couldn’t show such a weakness to. That was not what a married woman of society did. Emotions were meant to stay behind closed doors.

They turned away from the music and went through a door. Her worry had been for nothing. As he always had a habit of doing, John had assuaged her fears without her needing to voice them. Had taken care of her as easily as breathing. Her worries over telling him would be for nothing too. Her worries over this growing distance between them…he would fix those too. Nothing could ever break them. “We could go back to our room, if that would make you more comfortable.” He kissed the center of her forehead and looked into her eyes like they held all the answers. Cass just hoped they held more than fear.

“Maybe it’s silly but I always have considered my bedroom, wherever it may be, to be the most sacred place. A place to protect. And now that I have you, the space where we talk before we fall asleep, the space where we wake up in each others arms and make love and plan how to achieve our dreams…it is even more important to me that we protect that. Even in a hotel where it is temporary.” Her smile could probably be described as meek as she looked at him like she was awaiting his approval.

“Cass, everywhere you are is a sacred place to me. The ground you stand on is the only ground I care to protect.”

“Even this dirty stairwell?” she sniffed.

“Especially this dirty stairwell, my love.” It was hard to pretend every nerve ending between them wasn’t completely and utterly on fire. But he wasn’t going to push her. The admittance of a secret between them, something they normally didn’t keep, was enough to worry him to the edges of his sanity. He would always be patient with her. Her love would always be worth waiting for.

“After London, after we were separated, I woke up one night with blood on my sheets.” John froze. His eyes traced over her face as if he could read or see beneath her skin and into her mind. “Mary helped me to the field hospital and…and they told me I was having a miscarriage.” There it was. Out in the open. No longer a secret for her to keep.

“London. In London we…” The rest of his thought was choked off as silver lined his eyes. Cass nodded.

“We made a baby. And on that night I lost it. I’m sorry. For not telling you sooner. For not knowing and not protecting them and ruining something I know we both want so deeply.” His eyes were no longer looking into hers. They were focused on the wall behind her head. If his shirt was between the whites other knuckles, she would have thought he was trying to mist away.

“It’s not your fault. The stress of the forest that day and the travel…that couldn’t have helped.” John spared her a glance before he stepped out of her grasp and cleared his throat. “Did you want to say goodbye before we go?” She was stunned for a moment before she internalized the words he was saying.

“That’s all you have to say?” No words of comfort? No angst or sadness over the loss of the unknown? No anger over her inability to protect something as precious as their child?

“I think we should get back to our room.” God, he was cold and evasive and emotionless and all the things Cass had described previous lovers as but never John Egan. Never her husband. The man who so thoroughly brought her to life. “It’s Gale and Marge’s weekend. I don’t want to distract from that.” Slapping her would have hurt less. His words packaged all her emotions into a little box and prevented them from escaping. From relieving the pressure on her heart that had been weighing her down. That she had started this conversation in order to release. Maybe she had been wrong to think John Egan was the kind of husband, the kind of man, who wouldn’t mind if his wife enjoyed dancing and laughing and letting her hair down while she experienced life. Maybe she never should have assumed the freedom he had said he loved about her all this time carried back to America. A ruthless mistake.

“My coat-”

“I’ll grab it. You stay here, so they don’t have to see you like this, and I’ll be right back.” Shame crawled right up her throat and squeezed until she thought it would be her undoing.

“Why was I so stupid?” she whispered to herself. “I should have known better.” She should have known better than to think she would be able to be a wife on her own terms. To think she could be a partner and an equal and never have to change the elements that made up her core. To think she had found the person, her person, to do all that with. To shield her and protect her from the overwhelming judgement of those around her.

It had been time for her to learn John was just a man. And he was the same as they all were.

#john egan #masters of the air #callum turner #john egan x oc #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #cass and bucky

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 1 year ago

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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Prologue

I'm not super happy with this prologue but I've done my best with it :'). Also I gave God He/They pronouns. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 1227

Warnings: Uhhhh idk unless you count God as one.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

Prologue // Chapter 1 >

Prologue

Before time began, there was her.

Cælitis (Definition): The divinities who dwell within the celestial planes. (Noun)

The Universe – The Beginning

Perhaps it was a coincidence, or a mistake, or there was something far greater beyond the confines of the ever-expanding walls of the universe. They had accepted solitary, thinking they were the only one, the first, when they awoke to a dark abyss, with the veins of creation pulsating at his fingertips. This was what God thought when they reached out for the first time, light bursting from within, shooting out and collecting into a colossal sphere. A star, he had named it, and he had much fun for who knows how long, floating through the endless vacuum, using these fiery balls of fire and gas to light his way. He would make them every colour he could think of, clumping some together to form the nebulas, or shooting some off into the middle of nowhere, just for the sake of it. Sometimes, he would press atoms so close together they would form rocks of all shapes and sizes, letting them wander and float around until they began clumping together into similar spherical shapes. He even swirled some clusters of stars and rocks around, watching as they turned into disks that would spin forever – galaxies, he decided to label them as. Before long, the universe was scattered with clusters of stars, planets, and whatever else they felt like creating, some so big their size was incomprehensible, others microscopic in comparison, and the rest varying in between.

When God had decided to rest their powers for a short while, he hadn’t expected to awake to the feeling that something was off when he observed his work. A small ripple, something he wouldn’t have picked up on if he knew they were the only being currently in existence. It passed through them, and he quickly shot towards the nebula that sat in the centre of his universal domain, their birthplace, so to speak. And what he came across was something very wrong. And he finally came to the realisation that he wasn’t alone.

It looked like a cloud at first. A dark mass that swirled and flared it tendrils around frantically as it contorted in and out of itself. He wouldn’t have been able to see it if it weren’t for the carnage it had left behind, it’s pitch black silhouette a stark contrast against the flickering specks of light behind it – the broken remains of his precious stars and planets.

Though he did not fear it. They knew that if this being had come into existence, it was here for a reason.

The Goddess was a being not many creatures knew about, and God wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t want anyone to know he had an equal, someone, if aware of everything they could do, could rival him and his authority.

He was Creation, and she was Destruction. Not solely there to destroy everything, no. She was brought into existence to ensure there was change, to make sure God didn’t slow down, always keeping him on his metaphorical feet. He had welcomed change when they had first come across her, but not too much. See, he wanted things to progress, but on his terms, so when the flailing tendrils of the Goddess had parted to reveal a mass of black wings and hundreds of very curious eyes peering up at them, he immediately took them under his own wings, teaching them the timeline of the universe around them. Her naivety hadn’t flown past him, she had just come into existence after all, and at this realisation he was delighted.

Billions of years passed by under the tutelage of God, telling the Goddess that she was his creation, what was divine and what was sacrilege. She absorbed it all, enchanted by the ways of what she believed to be her ‘creator’.

At one point, Destruction was overseeing a supernova just outside the Andromeda galaxy when God had approached her, eager to show her something. Reluctant but curious, she agreed, allowing them take her to another celestial plane, gesturing his arms out wide and welcoming her to Heaven.

He introduced her to his creations, his hierarchy of the divine. From the Seraphims, all the way down to the angels. For a time the Goddess resided with them, telling them about her ways of existence, though it wasn’t always received positively. In fact, there was only one creation that was intrigued by her path of dismantlement, a chirpy seraphim named Lucifer, who would spend most of his free time following her around with wide eager eyes, asking questions a mile a minute. The Goddess would always answer truthfully, and soon enough God began to grow weary of the friendly exchange between the two.

It wasn’t long before he was dragging her back through the planes, until they came across a very colourful planet. Entering through the atmosphere, the two floated down until they arrived on top of wall that encased a very interesting sight.

For as far as the eye could see, there was desert, but within the confines of this wall was a lush paradise, filled to the brim with every possible plant. The Garden of Eden.

God revealed two creatures that he had brought into existence, their names Adam, and Lilith, and they were to create the human race. Though his idea didn’t last very long – Lucifer had trailed after the Goddess into Eden one day, going off on another one of his excitable tangents on whatever was flying through his head at the time, when he had come face to face with the cunning and evaluating eyes of Lilith.

Obviously most know what happened after that, and God had quickly created Eve, but when she and Adam both failed his expectations after Lucifer and Lilith tempted them with the apple from the tree, he soon made changes.

The Seraphim and his new wife were cast down into a new celestial plane called Hell, and God then turned to the Goddess, seething, accusing her – that she had planted those thoughts and questions into his creation’s mind. They wouldn’t hear any excuse, leaving her until near the end of Adam and Eve’s once immortal life on Earth.

When he approached her again, they said he had a new job for her, and she followed, hopeful for their friendship to be restored, though doubts began to creep into her mind when she saw what was before her.

Purgatory, he had revealed it to be, was where she would take mortal souls after their physical body expired and sort them between Heaven and Hell. Next was the Underworld, where, if a soul was displaced in either of the two afterlives, it would go there to remain for eternity, or if she decided to send it back to Earth to be reincarnated. It was her new domain, where she would reside when she wasn’t on Earth collecting new souls.

Distressed, the Goddess asked why she was to do this, but God said nothing, only explaining further on what her new purpose entailed, and she grew more and more distraught at the new path he had laid out in front of her. She was no longer to be regarded as Destruction, but instead would spend the rest of eternity to be called a new, more fitting name, one he thought described her purpose of being perfectly:

Death.

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

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acciocriativity · 1 year ago

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WHEN THEY GET JEALOUS OF YOUR CHRISTMAS GIFT - MATZ + YUNHO (FROM THE 400 FOLLOWERS EVENT)

Requested by the lovely @h3arteyes4mingi <3 This was soo much fun to write, there's a little bit of my own twist to fit the theme

If you enjoyed it, please reblog my work! The requests for the event are open!

Ateez Masterlist

In Korea, the Christmas tradition was quite different from your country and if you had to be honest, you missed it a lot in those 3 years you’ve been here. You thought you kept those thoughts to yourself, you realized you failed on that.

Hongjoong (김홍중)

He had no idea they were planning this. All he knew about was his own gift to you, one he gave you already by midnight since he came to your house after schedule.

You are a collector, always has been, and he loved to indulge you whenever he could find an interesting piece and that he did. You were so excited by the vintage vinyls you barely slept the night before.

So to him, sitting on your couch, watching the scene unfold, was quite amusing. You, still sleepy, doing your best to be as excited as you would be if they came by one or two hours later and them, making an absolute chaos as they always did.

“You guys are actually insane”.

“I think you mean we are amazing, now get your jaw off the floor and open this”, one of them said and handed their collective gift to you.

The thing is, the boys also loved to indulge another collection you had. Todecide which signed album to get you was hard, so they got you all of them but the one you bought already, your boyfriend’s.

The moment your eyes landed on the cardboard box, you knew what it was, and you didn’t hesitate to sit on the floor of the living room and make an absolute mess. The box left aside, the wrapping paper and bubble wrap all over the place would make you lose your mind in any other occasion.

“No way, you guys did not have to…”

In front of you, there was the whole collection of the new Ateez album and as you analyzed it further, all of them were signed.

“Open them before you thank us”, Wooyoung’s tone should be the first indicator something was off to Hongjoong, but it wasn’t.

You didn’t need to be told twice and even made Jongho bring your scissors, so the package wouldn’t be slightly damaged as you took off the plastic.

You had a little routine as you opened a new album of theirs, the photocards were last, but all of them insisted you saw it first.

Hongjoong could tell you were excited for whoever may be on it, but he did wish it was one of his, another one for your long collection.

“Ah!”, you screamed as you turned it. “Yeosang!”, you announced smiling from ear to ear. “Look at you, this hairstyle looks so good…”, you said as you took a closer look.

Hongjoong felt a sour taste on his mouth. Right, it was true, anything looks good on Yeosang, that’s just a fact, but that’s what you always say to him and him only whenever he changes his hairstyle and comes running home to show you in person.

“Another one! I don’t have this one, it’s so pretty”, you showed them both photocards next to each other.

“Pretty”, Hongjoong huffed as he looked away.

“Did you say anything, hyung?”, San asked like the devil himself beside him.

San’s smile reflected on everybody else’s faces.

“No, nothing, just thinking out loud”, he brushed it off, but now all eyes were on him, including yours. “Let me help you to open those”, he moved to sit beside you and got his hands to work without waiting for an answer.

That was enough to make the attention back on you and your excitement, and he couldn’t help but smile watching you do your thing.

He sat straight, a new wave of hope as he finished taking the plastics off and making a line for you to grab. One of them has to be him, there is just no way you won’t pull his photocards.

So he waited and waited, but album after album, you got Jongho, then Wooyoung and Seonghwa. Yunho, you pulled Yunho before him. In his head he felt like murdering them all. It was clear it was on purpose by the 3rd time the photocards matched the sign on the cover.

“Love, you’re pouting”, you whispered to him when the boys were busy roasting and cringing at each other’s photos.

“No, I am not”, he whispered back, all wide-eyed and defensive, threatening to look at you in the eyes.

“You know you’re the prettiest in my eyes, right?”

“Am I? Prettier than Yunho’s outfit and Yeosang’s hairstyle?”, he didn’t budge when you hugged him nor when you put your head on his shoulder.

“Look at him sulking because she didn’t pull his pc”, Mingi said as he noticed you two on your own word.

“I’m not sulking!”

Seonghwa (박성화)

In hindsight, he told you this morning he had another surprise coming soon, so you expected something, but nothing close to this. He already made your entire year last night after he cooked all your home country food for Christmas, with your help as soon as you noticed his behavior. So what else could he do?

It was a huge box, San could barely hold it alone as one by one, they came in and greeted both of you.

“What is all of this? Better not be another prank”, you said as you glared at Yeosang, the perpetrator the last time.

He dared to giggle as the memories resurfaced and gestured no with both hands, loosing all his composure and so flustered to answer you properly without laughing. Your comment also got a chuckle out of the others, including Seonghwa, who also receive a threatening glare on his direction, but his innocent eyes could get him out of anything, so you let it go for now.

“Do you think we would be so mean to you on Christmas morning?”, Wooyoung said in such an offended tone with his left hand on his heart, like you just said you hated puppies or something.

“I don’t know what to expect from you guys anymore”, you said as serious as you could be watching his dramatics.

Hongjoong had to interfere and remind everyone of what they were doing there in the first place

“To do something nice and not to bicker some more, understood?”, he cut off Wooyoung, using that captain voice and as if it was magic, they all fell back in line.

You made space on the kitchen table to open the box there. Your best guess would be another box, a smaller one then another and another, with something inside the last one. Instead, there were carefully wrapped albums, a shit ton of them, filling more than half of the whole thing. You were speechless, then you screamed in a way none of them saw before, the fangirl scream.

“Oh my…”, you couldn’t finish.

“Now you can’t say we never did something nice for you”, Jongho said, his tone was flat, but his smile gave away the true affection he felt.

It was a lie you could never tell anyway, since they would treat you like a little sister and pay your share every time.

“Who do you want to pull the most?”, Hongjoong asked as they all watched you open the first album, a Jongho signed copy.

“San”, you didn’t even hesitate to say.

All of them immediately looked at Seonghwa, who looked like he just got stabbed on the back.

“Have you ever seen his eyes this big?”, Yunho asked as he giggled at Seonghwa expression.

“At least pretend to think for a moment, you’re killing him”, San said as he joined in the laughter.

You looked at him, right by your side. Seonghwa, who casually leaned onto the wall, now fell to his knees, both hands on his heart as he looked at you with those same puppy eyes, then looked down fake crying. “You don’t love me anymore”.

You couldn’t help, but giggle yourself.

“Don’t you want to know why I want a San photocard?”

He looked away, but you noticed how his eyes moved to look at you every 2 to 3 seconds. He was quiet for a moment, still not meeting your eyes.

“Because I already have your set complete and there’s a lot of San’s cards missing for me”.

That was enough for him to stand up. “How do you have mine complete already?”, he frowned.

It was a conflicting feeling, he hates that you spent so much money to support him, but at the same time he was beyond touched by those five words only.

“I want to support you, that’s all you need to know”, you said as you focused back on your gifts. “Now, can you stop pouting and help me here?”

Seonghwa blinked slowly as he gulped, suddenly standing with impeccable posture. Was he pouting this whole time? He noticed too late how the boys got quiet, he knew he was screwed on the group chat later.

“Are you sure I’m not going to bother you guys?”, you asked once again to Yunho, who was driving you to their dorms.

Jeong Yunho (정윤호)

He only smiled at you, then quickly looked back to the road, but his hand held yours tighter on top of his thigh, a silent request for you to trust him.

Any other person would be annoyed by now, but he knew the reason for this, it was a fair one. It was a true fact, they always had a schedule for Christmas day and rest was not a given to them, so you didn’t mind spending the day away from him. But not this year, he wanted to do something nice for you now, before lunch, because he would be busy later in the night.

To be honest, even if you were going to bother them, it was too late. You both arrived in front of the building. So you let it go, you trusted his judgment.

You took a moment to actually look closely at Yunho, as he parked the car on their spot. You only witnessed him so serious about something while dancing, he tends to loosing up as soon as he sees you, so it only makes this whole situation more intriguing to you, since he was determined not to tell you a single thing, it was a first for him.

Then, you noticed his ears getting red, but chose to ignore it. How can he still be so shy by your attention after all this time, it was a mystery.

He squeezed your hand to call you back to reality.

“I want you to just enjoy it, can you do that for me?”, you nodded and let go of his hand.

The chaos could be heard from outside the door, but the moment he started to press the door code, everything went silent.

But before you could make a comment, the door opened.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Merry Christmas!”

Half said something, half said something else.

In front of you, half the decoration was for Christmas, the other half was a birthday party. Yunho slipped from your side to grab his own party hat to complete the look of the best boyfriend in the world.

You were giggling at the sight, too many emotions in your heart to actually say something at the moment.

“Come sit and open your gift, Yunho-hyung worked hard to make it happen”, Jongho said.

That he did, he fought hard his own fans to grab those albums for you. To see you beaming while flicking through the photobook was priceless to him, it was all he wanted to see after missing your birthday a couple of days ago.

So you opened it one by one the eight signed copies of their new album, all different versions so you could add them all to your collection.

“Wait, wait”, Mingi said as you took out the last envelope with all the photocards and extra gifts. “Who do you want to pull?”

“Yunho, of course”.

“Boring”, Wooyoung said at the same time Yunho melted inside, a gorgeous smile on his face and the red on his ear.

Every envelope was now in front of you beside their designated albums, already opened. You saved the best for last, excited by the pulls you would get from Yunho’s version.

“You’ll have more lucky on this one”, he said and winked at you when no one was looking.

Your excitement was clear to anyone with at least 50% of eyesight. It was cute and a little gross, but you couldn’t care less about their distaste as you took a deep breath. It was that serious to you.

So you reveal them all at once onto the ground.

4 out of 4 was Hongjoong’s. You couldn’t say you were elated by them, not that you were upset either, but you already got them before, and you did wish to have the least a single of Yunho’s.

The boys couldn’t consider it a successful prank though, because you seemed the most upset in the room. It was kind of offensive if anyone would ask Hongjoong. Yunho was the one supposed to be upset in all of this, but he giggled through and through watching your reactions to their photocards, and now he was laughing!

“Yah, what? What’s wrong with my photocards?”, Hongjoong exclaimed as he pointed to them on your hands, a mixture between laughter and distress clear on his face. “They are cute, aren’t they?”, he went on and on about it as everyone laughed, but the moment you did, he almost killed you with his eyes only.

“Sorry”, you tried to keep a straight face.

Yunho and you shared a quick glance.

Mission failed.

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez masterlist #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction #vicky's 400 followers event #hongjoong fluff #yunho fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez matz

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normanreedusdaryl · 7 days ago

Note

I love your writing!! Can I request Daryl x younger f! reader where they both like each other secretly. They go on a run and end up trapped somewhere, tensions get high and they end up having sex?

Thanks!

Don't tell anybody...

18+ Age gap (reader is 19), Slightly pervy, (F/M), cunnilingus, sex, creampie + more, so please read with caution

I am taking public and private requests!

MASTERLIST

NOT PROOF READ

Food. Something as simple as needing to eat has nearly gotten you killed. You're new to the group, a lot younger but can still hold your weight, but Rick and the others just can't see that. Except for today, today you finally got picked to go on a run, a seemingly easy one but still a run. It's just you and Daryl. You hadn't really spoken to the older, greasy haired guy much, for starters he was at least 30 years older than you and not particularly chatty. But despite him being extremely introverted you still noticed him giving you looks every now and then. Looks that were usually directed at your breasts or waist but you didn't mind, there was something about him, something special...

Hop on! He yelled across the street. Both of you had just raided a nearby building in hopes to find food, yet no luck. You climb onto the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around his large frame. He revved the engine before speeding off down an alley, passing nearby corpses piled up against the walls. You should have seen this as a sign as not before long a hoard of walkers surround the exit of the alley.

Shit. He groans as he reverses his bike. GET OFF, NOW! He screams at you. He grabs you by the waist, pushing you into a nearby door. Silence. You make your way through a dark hallway before finding yourself in a library. Walking through you find a collection of bags and sleeping bags.

some people must have been here...

Mmh. You reply.

You bend over picking the stuff up before you hear Daryl whisper.

Shhh. Get up... now.

Looking up you see another small horde of walkers surrounding you, pushing past them you find a small storage room, just enough to fit both of you in. You shut and barricade the door, your heart beating out your chest.

You ok? He asked, looking down at you.

Yeah, you?

We might have to wait it out tonight, ok?

Ok.

An hour later....

After clearing a shelf off, you find yourself a seat.

Its getting hot in here huh. We're gonna overheat. You look over at Daryl

He groans in response.

We don't have enough water for the night, we're gonna have to strip.

Yeah. Daryl scoffs, i'm not doing that, neither are you.

Why not? You scared you might get a hard on.

He doesn’t reply.

Sorry.

Nah, its fine sweetheart'.

A moment of awkward silence fills the closet.

Iv’e seen the way you look at me, your just gonna deny it i know but... i see you looking at me.

How old are you?

19.

yeah i'm 46 sweetheart that aint' gonna work.

who says?

Daryl turns to face you Morals

Oh please, you wanna speak about morals? You've killed innocent people, i think fucking a younger girl is the least of your worries, anyways theres nothing left, no one left to judge.

He looks you up and down, biting his lip. You could see him following the dripping bead on your chest. You slowly unclip your top, revealing your small, perky breasts. You pinch your puffy nipples, making them hard. You take your hand and place it on his zipper, slowly pulling it down. Your finger rummages around his package, feeling his growing bulge and balls.

So... You gonna fuck me or not.

Without saying a word he undos his trousers, pushing them to floor, he pulls your hips into his, ripping your jeans off of your body, all thats left a dainty pair of underwear. He lowers his face towards your slit, biting and pulling the panties of your person. Your perfect, silky pussy on display. He then removes his trousers, revealing his bushy cock. A veiny, pulsating stick pushes into your virgin hole. He doesn't even warn you, he just starts thrusting in and out of your squelching folds, his pubes tickling your clit. You couldn't help but let out gasps as his large balls slapped against your ass. His mouth grew open, head falling back. He was lost in your pussy, your tight wet pussy. You’re such a good girl He whimpers as he grabs your cheeks, spitting into your face. He takes his soaking dick out, slapping it against your clit. You grind against it, feeling yourself swell. He quickly removes his dick, replacing it with his tongue , running round in circles and sucking on it. You quickly climax, your squirt pulsing down his throat, him swallowing every last bit before getting up and entering you again. This time he's harder, more aggressive , pumping in and out, he slaps your clit moaning. Fuck baby, daddy's gonna... Before he can finish he shoots ropes of his sweaty cum inside your vagina. He stays there for a second, using his fingers to push in any escaping sperm. Do not tell anyone.

#the walking dead smut #daryl dixon fan fiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #smut #daryl #daryl dixon fanfic

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

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Can you do Gojo x male reader x Geto

❝lost and found❞

✭ pairing : gojo satoru x male reader x geto suguru

✭ fandom : jujitsu kasian

✭ summary : Everyone knows when you go food shopping with your mom you aren’t supposed to let go of her hand, because there is always the case of you ending up lost, will this isn’t the case for this scenario. Instead of it being the mom trying to find her lost kids it is Gojo and (M/n) trying to find Geto who they can’t seem to find in the supermarket.

✭ jujitsu kasian masterlist

It was a rare day when Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and their classmate (M/n) found themselves with a day off from their arduous duties as sorcerers. The higher-ups had decided that they deserved a break, and the trio was left to decide how to spend it.

Gojo, with his characteristic swagger, looked at his companions and asked, "So, how are we going to spend this precious day off?"

Suguru, the more reserved of the group, pondered for a moment before replying, "I could really go for some pasta."

(M/n), the ever-resourceful thinker, perked up and suggested, "Why don't we go to the supermarket? We can buy ingredients and make our pasta right at home. It'll be fun!"

The idea seemed to strike a chord with all of them. It was a simple plan, but it promised a day filled with camaraderie, delicious food, and perhaps some unexpected adventures. With their day off ahead of them, the trio set out to the supermarket, ready to enjoy a break from their demanding lives as sorcerers.

As they entered the supermarket, Satoru and (M/n) shared a sly, knowing look behind Suguru's back. Their eyes sparkled with mischief, a silent agreement passing between them. This grocery run had the potential for some unexpected fun.

While Suguru dutifully examined his shopping list ready to get everything he needed for his pasta, Satoru and (M/n) discreetly slipped away, their steps light and their laughter barely contained. They navigated the supermarket aisles with the ease of seasoned explorers, their senses attuned to the promise of adventure.

As they ventured deeper into the store, Satoru whispered to (M/n), "You ready to shake things up a bit?"

(M/n) grinned, mischief dancing in their eyes. "Absolutely, Satoru. Let's give Suguru a surprise he won't forget."

As Satoru and (M/n) roamed the supermarket aisles, their mission to gather an assortment of junk food and snacks took an unexpectedly playful turn. With their cart already brimming with treats, Satoru couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

Satoru grinned mischievously at (M/n) and, with the agility of a child, jumped into the shopping cart, sitting cross-legged. He spread his arms wide, as if he were an amusement park ride operator showcasing the attractions. "Alright, (M/n), time for a snack-fueled adventure!"

(M/n) laughed, fully embracing the newfound excitement. They grabbed the handles of the cart, their imagination taking over. "Hang on, Satoru, this is going to be one wild ride!"

With a burst of enthusiasm, (M/n) started pushing the cart, maneuvering it like they were in a Mario Kart race. Satoru played along, tilting his body and pointing to different snacks on the shelves as if they were power-ups.

"Banana chips to the left!" Satoru exclaimed, leaning dramatically.

(M/n) steered the cart towards the banana chips, grabbing a bag and tossing it into the cart. "Got it! And now, it's the gummy bear shortcut!"

Satoru laughed heartily, and they sped towards the gummy bear section, adding colorful packages to their growing collection. As they approached the cookie aisle, Satoru pretended to rev an imaginary engine and shouted, "Boost mode! Let's hit those cookies!"

(M/n) picked up speed, zooming towards the cookies and tossing them into the cart. It felt like they were in their own little racing game, with snacks as their prize. Shoppers nearby couldn't help but smile at the duo's infectious energy.

Satoru, still seated in the cart, looked around at the variety of snacks they had accumulated. "I think we've got everything we need for our secret stash. Now, let's find a finish line—preferably the checkout counter!"

(M/n) grinned, feeling like they were on the verge of winning the grand prix. They navigated the cart towards the checkout counter, Satoru waving at imaginary fans along the way.

As they reached the checkout, Satoru hopped out of the cart, chuckling. "That was epic, (M/n). We should do this more often."

(M/n) nodded, their heart still racing with excitement. "Definitely, Satoru. Who knew grocery shopping could be this much fun?"

And so, with their cart filled to the brim with snacks and memories of their impromptu Mario Kart adventure, Satoru and (M/n) continued with their shopping trip, their mischievous spirits undiminished by the passage of time.

Finally done with their work the two pat themselves on the back as a job well done, Satoru and (M/n) reached the checkout counter with their cart full of snacks and their playful antics, they suddenly realized something was amiss. Suguru was nowhere to be seen.

"Wonder where Suguru wandered off to?" Satoru said, scratching his head with a puzzled expression.

(M/n) glanced around the store, their brow furrowing. "I haven’t see him since we started the Mario Kart adventure."

With growing concern, they decided to retrace their steps, calling out for Suguru as they navigated the aisles. "Suguru! Hey, Suguru! Where are you?"

But there was no response, no sign of Suguru anywhere. They retraced their steps all the way back to the checkout counter, and the cashier noticed their distressed expressions.

"Is there a problem?" the cashier asked, scanning their snacks.

Satoru exchanged a worried glance with (M/n). "We can't find our friend, Suguru. He was with us, but now he's gone."

The cashier furrowed their brow, concern growing as well. "Let me help you. I'll make an announcement."

The cashier reached for the store's intercom and spoke into it. "Attention shoppers, we have a lost customer. Geto Suguru, you have two lost children waiting for you at cash register 6. I repeat, Geto Suguru, please come to cash register 6."

Satoru and (M/n) exchanged glances again, this time with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. The announcement had certainly attracted the attention of fellow shoppers, who were now casting curious glances in their direction.

Satoru chuckled. "Well, this is one way to get Suguru's attention."

(M/n) nodded, a sheepish grin forming on their face. "I hope he hears it and comes back soon."

As they waited for Suguru to respond to the announcement, Satoru couldn't help but glance around at the snacks in their cart. "At least we have plenty of snacks to keep us entertained while we wait."

And so, with snacks in hand and an announcement echoing through the supermarket, Satoru and (M/n) waited for their lost companion to find his way back to cash register 6, where they hoped to reunite and continue their eventful shopping trip.

As Suguru approached cash register 6 in response to the announcement, he couldn't help but wear a weary expression, knowing that his friends, Satoru and (M/n), were likely the cause of this disruption. He found them there, both pouting with their arms crossed over their chests as they huffed in his direction.

Satoru pointed an accusatory finger at Suguru. "You abandoned us, Suguru!"

(M/n), chiming in from the background, added, "Yeah, what he said!"

Suguru couldn't hide the irritation on his face as he scrutinized their guilt-ridden expressions. "What kind of trouble did you two get into this time?"

Satoru, sitting comfortably in the shopping cart, leaned forward and dramatically placed a hand on his heart. "We ventured into the cleaning aisle, Suguru, the place where time stands still. We thought we'd lost you forever."

(M/n) couldn't resist joining in on the teasing. "Yeah, Suguru, we even found some ancient cleaning potions with your name on them."

Suguru let out an exasperated sigh. "You're both impossible." He then glanced at their cart, noticing the abundance of snacks. "At least you managed to get what we needed."

Satoru couldn't resist one last jab. "Oh, we got everything, Suguru, including some prune juice for you."

(M/n) laughed, playfully adding, "Don't forget the fiber-rich cereal!"

Suguru's annoyance reached its peak, and he muttered under his breath, "I'm surrounded by children."

As they approached the cashier to pay for their groceries, Satoru and (M/n) couldn't resist having the last word. They began teasing Suguru once more, chanting in sing-song voices, "Suguru's an old man, Suguru's an old man."

Suguru rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sight of his mischievous friends. They might drive him crazy at times, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Together, they paid for their groceries and left the supermarket, their playful banter echoing in the air, a testament to their enduring friendship.

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animeyanderelover · 1 year ago

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💘Could I request itachi with prompt 122. “Don’t be scared. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at them.”?💘

I'll probably announce a date of when I will open my requests again within the next two weeks. I only have 72 left after all which is actually not that much in comparison to what I had before.

Words: 2.4k

Tags: @shumidehiro @naeho @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation, abduction, death

Prompt 122

The flames of the campfire licking away at the wood was a captivating sight, your eyes drawn to its brightness. All the chatter and cackling around you slowly turned into white noise as the bright colours of the fire brought your mind to another time. A time where everything in your life had been boring, normal and fine.

When an object was thrown against your head, you were forced to leave your head and return back to the present, surrounded by bounty hunters who had been forcing you to tag along with them for nearly 2 weeks now. Well, Itachi was after all on one of his long missions so you didn't expect any help from him. You didn't even know when he would return.

"Eat up. That's all you're going to get for tonight." One of them told you rudely. You threw him a dirty sideglance as soon as he had turned his back to you, chatting with a few of his pals as you picked up the small package made out of green leaves. A few onigiri were inside, the impact due to the guy having thrown them against your head had caused some of the rice to fall apart. It was a sad meal as you stared at the meager rice balls who had already partially lost their shape. You knew better than to reject the food though because not only would that mean that they might starve you purposely for a bit but you also weren't keen on receiving another hit against your face from one of those idiots. Your cheek still stung slightly even days after you had been knocked down simply by irritating one of the members of this group a bit.

Ultimately they wouldn't kill you though. For now at least. After all people wanted you alive as bait to lure out the famous Itachi Uchiha. Since when had your value only been dragged down to Itachi Uchiha? When had you stopped being your own individual and instead were only famous as his 'lover'?

You munched away on the onigiri, ignoring the glances you received from the women and men around you and the way they snickered tauntingly. They only cared for the money after all. Whatever would happen to you was none of their concerns as long as they received their price for collecting you.

If you remembered right, you'd arrive in a day or two your destination. Then you'd be handed over like a useful tool and would be kept until you'd lose your value, which was obviously only Itachi Uchiha. You could technically be liberated after that because you had only been an innocent citizen before you'd been kidnapped by a famous criminal but you were smarter than to hope for such a thing. You'd probably be either killed in the near future or you'd be kept for another purpose. In either case, you would never be able to go back to your own life.

Well, that was what you had expected and prepared for anyways when you had decided to be abducted once again by those people of your own free will. You had just been tired of being stuck in the small cottage, tired of being forced to wait for weeks until Itachi would return from his missions the Akatsuki had assigned to him and tired of your helplessness to do nothing else. The walls of the cottage had turned suffocating and a heaviness had settled somewhere inside your chest that no warm but ultimately shallow words of apologies and comfort could have erased. You had felt like you were slowly forgetting what you were like until only a shell of you would remain. That's why you had decided to follow those bounty hunters without any resistance when they had found you as you had wandered aimlessly around the woods despite Itachi's urgent warnings to never leave the area.

Had you tried to escape? You didn't know anymore. You just remembered that you had desperately wished to be anywhere else but in this cozy cage which was slowly sucking your soul out of you.

"Time to go to bed for you."

A woman told you as she walked over to you when noticing that you had finished your food, dropping the sleeping back, a pillow and blanket in your hands before walking away again. You let out a sigh as you stood up from your place and started throwing away small rocks or any other objects that might end up poking you annoyingly as soon as you'd lay down. You spread out the sleeping back, felt everyone's eyes watching you as you crawled inside the sleeping back, throwing the blanket you had been given so kindly over your body before flopping your head down the pillow. It smelled terribly after dirt and sweat but you didn't have anything better to use.

One of them walked towards you and to your dismay he stopped when he stood right above you. You just stared at the dark edges of the forest that the light of the fire couldn't reach.

"Your prince didn't show up so far, did he?" He asked you and even if you didn't look him into his face, you could almost picture his disgusting grin on his face. You remained qiet but unfortunately he didn't move, gauging you for any reaction. Was he expecting you to be sad about the fact that Itachi hadn't come so far or what?

"That's lucky for you then, isn't it? If Itachi would have found me by now all of you wouldn't be alive right now." You replied bluntly as you stared straight ahead. Only one or two days more...

"Huh? Would you like to repeat that again?"

You had offended him, angered him with what you saw as the only truth. You could see from the corner of your eyes how he bent down a bit, although you still didn't bother to look at him.

"You're only acting so tough and cool because we're so close to the destination. However, all of you were so tense and rigid in the beginning because you were terrified that Itachi might appear at any second from somewhere. We all know that you wouldn't stand a chance against Itachi even if all of you would fight him at once."

You repeated yourself once again, your voice dismissive and unimpressed by his pathetic attempts to intimidate you. He didn't say anything after that, although you could still feel his eyes glaring down at your body. He didn't utter a single word when he suddenly stepped on you, the heel of his foot pushing heavily down on your shoulders as he put his entire weight down on you. He reeked of sweat and dirt but you kept that for yourself as you clenched your jaw, swallowing down any whimper or other sound that would reveal your pain to his arrogant ass.

Eventually he stepped down from you and for a short moment you thought that he'd let it be only to receive a kick against your ribs in the next moment. You forced the groan of pain down as you bit down on your bottom lip, forcing your eyes to just contiue to stare straight ahead to show him how little you respected him and took him seriously.

He let out a scoff when you didn't budge in any meaningful way before deciding that you were not worth it as he walked away and joined his buddies again. God, you couldn't stand those people or their cocky facade as if all of them thought that they were something special for capturing you when you had really just given them an easy time by allowing them to help you to get away from that dull life you had been forced to live for almost 2 years now. Your current situation was frustrating, angering and downright annoying due to all those dumb people but you preferred it over the nothingness Itachi had forced you into.

~~~

When you woke up, the blinding darkness around you roused you from your sleepy mind. Why was the campfire out? They had never put it out since two of them were always playing guards for the night to ensure that no one would attack them. They had absolutely no confidence to fight in the dark as all they were capable of were a few meek ninjutsu and some mediocre taijutsu and weapon skills.

It's not like they were bad with what they were doing but in comparison to Itachi they just seemed so clumsy and ungraceful. You sat slowly up, your ears trying to pick up any sound as your hearing was the only thing you could rely on right now as you could barely see anything. The lack of noises was the next thing you noticed with growing worries. You couldn't hear any snoring nor any breathing from around you. There was only the same sad silence you had grown to hate, telling you that there was nothing and no one around you. The same silence that had always reminded you that you couldn't choose anything besides withering slowly away.

You couldn't sense nor see him but you knew that he was there. You gave out a pitiful chuckle, hugging your knees as you rested your chin on them.

"How long do you plan to conceal yourself from me, Itachi?"

You would never know how long he had been there already or how long everyone around you had been dead already, you only knew that you suddenly felt his hands resting on your shoulders. Had he been standing behind you the entire time?

A shudder went through your body as you could almost feel coldness creeping up your spine. The air around you became heavier all of a sudden, his presence behind you omnious and powerful. He was nothing like all those murdered people could have stood a chance against and they had clearly paid that with their own lives. There would have been no way for them to get out of this alive, they had been doomed to die from the start. Meeting you had been their demise.

Itachi removed his hands instantly when he noticed the spike of fear inside of you. Your back tingled as you sensed how he tried to suppress all the murderous pressure he had failed to properly contain. It ebbed away slowly as he carefully regained his composure until his presence felt familiar to you again and only a heavy knot inside your chest reminded you that you couldn't trust him.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with them.”

Hearing his deep voice made your heart feel heavy once again. You had grown far too familiar with it as it had been the only human sound that had surrounded you for too long until you had almost forgotten how anyone else could have sounded, his voice the only thing echoing around inside your mind.

What did he mean by saying that he wasn't angry with you? Did he know? You wouldn't have been surprised if he would have. It was creepy how well he knew you yet you couldn't still grasp entirely how he functioned and worked.

"You're going to take me back to that soulless place again?"

It sounded less like an actual question and more like an observation you knew would be true anyways.

"We can't go back there. Since the cottage was found by them, there's no guarantee that others won't be able to do the same. It isn't safe there anymore. I'll find another place for us. If you want to take anything from there with you though, I will-"

"Spare me that pretentious guilty tone of yours, will you?" You asked him with an agitated hiss before you forced yourself to calm down, although the guilt dwelling in his voice scratched terribly at your pride and heart.

You stood slowly up, kicking your legs out of the sleeping back before you rose from your position on the ground. Your eyes aimlessly searched around yet the moonlight shining through the trees barely allowed you to see anything. Only Itachi's figure was faintly visible for you and it was the one thing you really didn't want to see.

"I can't see anything. Is it possible for you to light the campfire again?"

"I can't do that. I...I don't want you to see your surroundings."

You clenched your hands into fists when you heard that meek and quieter tone of his again, apologetic and gentle as if you were a baby deer in the woods he didn't want to scare away. You knew that he wanted to spare you the sight of dead bodies he had killed all by himself but this apparent consideration for your own feelings was exactly what you hated so much about him. His guilt angered you, insulted you more than if he would have just been like those bounty hunters. Dealing with an arrogant jerk was far easier than with a man who felt guilty for his own actions and showed you kindess despite being a criminal, mass murderer and your abductor all in one. Because those feelings didn't allow you to read him properly and frightened you silently of the darker side that slumbered underneath that kind facade.

"Nevermind then." You sighed as you carefully tried to feel your way through the darkness with your feet. You didn't appreciate when Itachi instead grabbed your hand carefully and led the way so you wouldn't bump against any bodies on your path.

You could feel his hand clenching ever so slightly around yours. Not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you notice. You wondered if he was silently pondering over something in his head and a bad feeling made itself noticable somewhere in the pit of your stomach. You didn't want to hear him saying those empty words again that would change nothing besides maybe relieving his consciousness a bit by reminding himself that he wasn't as low as he thought he was.

"(y/n)..."

You didn't reply in hopes of him noticing your silent prayers and sparing you from his words. Because by doing so he would have done something far more selfless than acting all nice and considerate whilst still keeping you within a cage he had set up all pretty and nice-looking for you.

"I'm sorry."

You felt your heart drop when he spoke his apology in such a hushed tone. Those were merely words that held no meaning behind them anymore. They were devoid and empty as you had heard them far too many times already and every apology made you feel like getting slowly closer to a breakdown.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere itachi #yandere itachi uchiha

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