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cruel-seduction · 2 months ago

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Harry Potter Headcanon ||18+

Harry James Potter as Your Boyfriend

(୨୧) That Stupid Cute Look - He’s the kind of guy who gets flustered over the tiniest things, like you saying “I love you” for the first time, and he’s all wide-eyed like “Wait, you do?” (His face when he’s trying to process his feelings is pure heart-melting adorableness). You could just say “Hi” and he’s already blushing.

(୨୧) Protective, but in the Dumbest Ways He might try to protect you, but it comes out in the dumbest ways possible. Like that time he stepped in front of you to block a hex, even though you could have dodged it just fine. (You: “I’m literally a witch too, Harry.” Him: “I know. But you’re my witch.”)

(୨୧) The Awkward PDA He’s not great at showing affection in public, but when he does, it’s either accidental or he’s so shy about it that it ends up looking like the cutest thing ever. Like grabbing your hand when he’s scared or pulling you in for a hug, then quickly letting go like “Was that okay?” “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”

(୨୧) The Secret Softie Harry has a lot of inner turmoil, but with you, he’s the softest. He’ll pick you up a random book he knows you’ll love, just because he’s seen you reading about a topic once and now he wants to know you. He probably can’t even admit to himself how much he’d love to just curl up next to you and fall asleep. (That’s totally a boyfriend move, right?).

(୨୧) Harry's 'I'm Not Jealous' But Totally Is He’s the type to get all jealous when some dude tries talking to you, but he’s too nice and oblivious to show it properly. He’s probably lowkey eyeing the guy, but pretending to look at something else, hoping you won’t catch on to how possessive he’s being. (Meanwhile, he’s about to hex someone for looking at you too long). The poor guy thought that you would leave him for someone better. (Meanwhile him being the best)

(୨୧) The Bedroom Eyes Don’t let his dorkiness fool you; when he really gets in the mood, his eyes change—like a stormy night, all intense and full of intent. He’s the kind of guy who whispers your name before he kisses you, just right before he pulls you closer, one hand in your hair. (Okay, but imagine him lowkey whispering some dirty shit in your ear, like “I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast.”)

(୨୧) The Protective Lover Let’s be real: Harry’s dangerous when he’s protective. Like, you’re in trouble? You better believe he’s about to go full rage-mode on anyone who dares harm you. And if he’s feeling super spicy? (Well, let’s just say you’d love to be pinned against a wall by those saviour arms.)

(୨୧) The Sensitive Boyfriend - He’ll listen to your problems like you’re the most important person in the world. You’re ranting about some dumb thing at work, and he’s just sitting there, nodding along, fully invested, even though half the time he doesn’t fully understand what you’re saying. He’s a good listener—and a better lover when it’s time to just show you he’s there for you. (When you feel like absolute shit, he’ll show up with snacks, a blanket, and the softest way of reminding you how much he loves you).

(୨୧) The Choking - Okay, I’m not saying he’s into choking, but like, he’s the type to tease you just a little bit. He’d never go overboard, but during that heated moment where you’re both struggling for control, he’d totally be that guy to grip your throat just enough to have you gasping, all while looking at you with that smirk like “You like that, don’t you?” (Honestly, he could probably make you lose your mind with that sort of thing).

(୨୧) The "I'm Not That Into You" Lie - If Harry ever said something like “I’m not that into you,” you’d be laughing and pulling him closer, because you know he’s lying. This man is obsessed with you, he just doesn’t know how to say it without feeling too exposed. (But the way he holds you in bed? No words needed, babe.)

(୨୧) The Honest Kisses - Every kiss feels like he’s giving you his soul. It's slow, tender, like he wants to savor the moment. But the second you start tugging at him, Harry’s turning up the heat—he’s kissing you harder, hands roaming because now that he’s sure you're his, he’s all in.

(୨୧) Clumsy in the Best Way - He’s constantly tripping over his own feet, knocking over glasses, and totally embarrassing himself, but in the best, most adorable way. (You’d just laugh and let him pull you in for a messy kiss, the two of you tangled up, both trying to get the other’s shirt off). So. Cute.

(୨୧) The Sweetness You Don’t Expect - For all his bravado, Harry’s the guy who remembers the little things. Like your favorite candy, the song you hum when you're happy, or that time you mentioned how you love the smell of the rain. And one day, poof, he shows up with it, looking shy but satisfied because he’s made you smile. (All the little things just make you want him even more).

(୨୧) Emotionally constipated but trying. Harry’s feelings hit him like a freight train, and he’s not great at expressing them. He’ll stare at you for an embarrassingly long time before blurting, “You’re...really important to me,” in that awkward, raspy voice. And you’re just like, “Harry, are you malfunctioning again?”

(୨୧) Domestic Harry is a gift from Merlin himself. This boy? In a t-shirt that’s a little too tight across the chest and low-hanging sweatpants while making tea in the morning? Yeah, it’s a religious experience. (Feel free to pray to Harry’s holy forearms; they deserve worship.)

(୨୧) Hot, awkward sex god vibes. Harry doesn’t know how sexy he is, which somehow makes him hotter. His hands? Big and calloused from Quidditch, and the way they grab your hips? Game over. And don’t get me started on his voice—low and raspy when he says, “Come here.” Like, YES, SIR, TAKE ME NOW.

(୨୧) Sweet but dumb declarations of love. “I think I’ve loved you since you laughed at me for falling off my broom that one time.” Like, WHAT?? (You’ll laugh, but it’s also the cutest thing ever because Harry’s love language is sincerity, and it hurts.)

(୨୧) The way he looks at you? WHEW. Those green eyes aren’t just legendary for killing Voldemort; they’re also designed to melt your soul. He’ll glance at you mid-laugh, and you’re left thinking, “Oh, so this is why people write ballads about love.”

(୨୧) That hair. Listen, Harry’s hair is a mess, but the sexy kind of mess. You’d spend hours just tugging on it (and yes, he loves that). Plus, post-Quidditch Harry with sweat-slicked hair and flushed cheeks? Yeah, good luck staying upright.

(୨୧) Harry James Potter is your personal furnace. He runs hot—like, physically. Which means winter nights = you wrapped in his arms, snug as hell. And yes, he’ll mumble sleepy, incoherent things about how perfect you are.

(୨୧) He’s a dork, and we love that man. Tripping over his own feet when you kiss him? Yes. Making bad puns in stressful situations? Also yes. Saying, “I’m not scared,” before screaming when a bug jumps? Oh, Harry. We’ll protect that boy forever.

(୨୧) Your forever hero. At the end of the day, Harry isn’t just The Chosen One—he’s your chosen one. He might be awkward, overprotective, and emotionally clueless, but he’ll love you with everything he has. And that’s more than enough.

Now the next part is gonna be spicy. (Not too much since I am feeling more romantic than horny)

(୨୧)The Unexpected Confidence - Harry might seem shy and unsure at first, but the second things start to heat up, something shifts. It’s like all that bottled-up Gryffindor bravery comes out, and suddenly, his kisses are rougher, his grip stronger, and he’s growling your name like he’s been dying to claim you.

(୨୧) The Messy, Hungry Kisser - He kisses like he’s starving, messy and desperate, pulling you closer like he can’t stand even an inch of space between you. His hands? Oh, they’re everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, tangling in your hair like he needs to touch all of you at once.

(୨୧) Soft dom Energy - Harry isn’t the full-blown "do as I say" type, but he has this soft dominance that makes you melt. Like when he grabs your chin and tilts your head back to kiss you deeply, or when he murmurs, “Good girl, just like that,” while you’re doing something that’s very not innocent.

(୨୧) Possessive in the Hottest Way - He might not realize it, but Harry’s possessiveness shows when things get intense. He loves leaving marks—bites on your collarbone, bruises on your hips—and the way his name spills out of your mouth? That’s his favorite sound. He’ll whisper, “Say it louder.”

(୨୧) Clothes-Ripping Chaos - He’s not patient when he’s turned on. Buttons go flying, your shirt’s halfway ripped off, and he’s mumbling apologies between kisses because “I just can’t wait anymore.” (Honestly, you’re not complaining because watching him lose control is a whole mood.)

(୨୧) The Way He Uses His Mouth - Let’s talk about Harry going down. He’s the type to spend hours down there, holding your thighs open with a firm grip, moaning like he loves every second of it. He looks so good between your legs, messy hair and flushed cheeks, and he’ll glance up at you with that boyish grin before diving back in like a man on a mission.

(୨୧) The Dirty Talk Surprise - You’d never expect it, but Harry’s got a filthy mouth when he’s turned on. He’ll whisper things like, “You’re so beautiful like this,” or “You’re going to be a good girl for me, right?” And if you beg? Oh, he’s hooked. Hearing you plead for him is the ultimate turn-on.

(୨୧) The Strength You Forget He Has - Harry might not look it, but Quidditch has given him some serious strength. He can pin you to the wall, lift you up like it’s nothing, or press you down into the mattress with a grip that makes you feel completely at his mercy. And that little smirk he gives when he realizes you like it? Deadly.

(୨୧) The Slow Tease - Sometimes he likes to take his time, dragging his hands and mouth over every inch of your body, just to hear you whimper. He’ll kiss your neck, your chest, your stomach, going achingly slow until you’re practically begging him to move faster. (Spoiler: He loves hearing you beg.)

(୨୧) Post-Mission Sex Is Next-Level - After a particularly dangerous mission or a near-death experience, Harry is feral. He’s got this mix of adrenaline and relief that turns into desperate, passionate sex where he’s almost growling your name. He’ll push you against the wall, his hands rough but his kisses soft, and the way he moans, “I thought I’d lost you,” will wreck you.

(୨୧) Whispered Promises in the Heat of It - Harry loves whispering in your ear while he’s deep inside you. Things like, “You’re perfect,” or “You don’t know what you do to me,” as he grips your hips tightly and thrusts just a little harder. It’s not just sex for him—it’s pure devotion, and you feel every ounce of it in the way he moves.

(୨୧) The Aftercare King - After everything’s said and done, Harry turns back into that sweet, caring boyfriend. He’ll clean you up, press soft kisses to your forehead, and wrap you in his arms, murmuring how much he loves you. He’s the type to pull you close, trace circles on your back, and stay up just to make sure you’re okay. (It’s the perfect mix of hot and wholesome.)

(୨୧) That Smirk When He Knows You’re Watching - If you’re watching him undress—or if he catches you biting your lip while he’s shirtless—he’ll flash that cocky smirk and drag it out.

(୨୧) Choking, But Make It Hot Harry’s hesitant at first, but the second you ask him to choke you, something snaps. His hand fits perfectly around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch, and he leans down to murmur, “You look so pretty like this.” (Goodbye. Dead.)

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This was requested by @aceattorneyforlife. Thanks for requesting. I hope I matched your expectations and that you are happy with it.

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#harry potter fluff #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x you #harry james potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #headcanon #harry potter headcanon #golden trio era

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beenbaanbuun · 11 months ago

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opposites attract w/ addams!matz

it’s finally here… i spent so long on this and im finally happy enough with it to give it to you guys!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it <333

words - 7.2k

genre - smut/fluff

warnings - sugar mommy!seonghwa, mommy kink, sugar daddy!hongjoong, daddy kink, cute!reader, sub!reader, dom!seonghwa, switch!hongjoong, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration (2 in 1), clit play, cum eating, collaring, partially clothed sex, seonghwa in a tulle robe, mentions of seonghwa in a dress, i’m so horny for seonghwa guys, mentions of drinking but everyone is sober, pet names (mommy, daddy, mi amor, cara mia, dove, love, lamb), i think that’s it?

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The fire crackles to your left as you lay before it for warmth. The grizzly bear rug - which you’d affectionately nicknamed Jongho, once you’d finally gotten used to the morbid thing - is soft beneath you, and you have to stop yourself from slipping away into a peaceful slumber atop it.

Although you assume your desire to sleep has more to do with the book in your hand than it does the rug. It had been carefully placed atop the side table next to the chez and since you had nothing better to do, you decided to read it. Only it seems it was written when Shakespeare’s great-great-great grandfather was still a twinkle in his father's eye, so comprehending a single word of it is proving to be more difficult than you originally anticipated. For all you know, you could be reading a recipe book and you’d be none-the-wiser.

For that exact reason, it doesn't take long for you to slam the book closed in frustration, tossing it to the side. It boinks the back of Jongho’s head, bouncing off and landing somewhere on the parquet floor. You can’t be particularly bothered to check where it’s landed, knowing that if you do, you’ll be liable to clean up after your mini-tantrum. The longer the location of the book remains a mystery, the longer you can stay swaddled in the blanket of warmth that Jongho and the fire are providing you with.

“Little dove?” A voice calls from the doorway to the sitting room. Your head perks up and you glance over to where Hongjoong is leaning against the stone archway with a glass of whisky in hand. You smile at him, which he returns, “I didn’t even notice you were here. When did you arrive?”

He takes a few steps into the room before coming to a halt upon spotting your body that had previously been hidden by the chez lounge. You’re lying on your tummy, head in hands and feet kicked up in the air. It’s quite obvious you’re not trying to seduce him with the way you're staring up at him with innocent eyes. In fact, once he spots the book tossed a couple of feet away, he can tell that your behaviour is more on par with a petulant child than a seductress. If it weren’t for your outfit, he’d perhaps find you adorable, but that’s the last word he’d use to describe that tiny little tennis skirt you’re wearing.

The hem had flicked up at some point, revealing just a little more thigh than you realise. If Hongjoong looks carefully he’s almost sure he can see the crease of where your ass cheek meets your thigh. He averts his gaze, if only to stop himself from pouncing on you and instead, he lets it travel down your soft legs. His eyes don’t get far, however, as seconds later his pupils come to rest on the thigh-highs you wear. The way they dig into your thighs so prettily, your soft flesh spilling over the top, draws him in.

He gulps down the rest of his whisky to calm himself.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” you shrug before laying yourself completely flat against the bear you seem to adore so much. Your fingers curl into its fur and you stretch your legs out behind you. Hongjoong almost finds you cute, but the way you move only brings more attention to your thighs. He notices the purple marks that had been left between them only days prior have faded, for the most part, although the memory alone makes his cock throb, and he quickly manoeuvres himself so he’s sitting on the chez with one leg firmly over the other to hide the growing tent in his black, pinstripe slacks.

“Why didn’t you call for us, my dove?” He places his empty glass down on the side table, the cubes of ice clinking musically against the sides, “you know we would’ve come running to you.”

You flip onto your back, rolling just a touch closer to Hongjoong’s feet. A shiver runs through you as the cold patch of Jongho’s fur rubs against your skin, and you almost want to shuffle back to the patch you’d already spent the last quarter of an hour warming up with your body. You refrain. It’s nice to be close to Hongjoong, and besides, you can get a better look at him from this angle. Always so handsome, every single pore in his body oozing eloquence and grace. If you ever get to meet the demon who created such a tempting individual, you’d have to thank them personally.

Hongjoong feels the same way, desire and temptation filling him from top to bottom as you reveal the front of your outfit. The corseted top you wear hugs your breasts oh so perfectly, accentuating them in a way that would have a Victorian harlot gasping with jealousy. If you were, in fact, a harlot, Hongjoong would be willing to pay whatever it took for just a peek at your body.

“Seonghwa doesn’t like it when I don’t use my indoor voice,” you mumble through pouted lips. The way they pucker reminds him of all the pretty little sounds you let slip through them when he and Seonghwa are taking you apart. They play a symphony in his head, dizzying him as he further succumbs to your temptations.

“You should’ve come to seek us out then,” his voice is a little gravellier than it had been just a moment or two ago, his desire to ruin you only growing stronger by the second, “You know, rather than just lying here and waiting for us to stumble upon your little tantrum.” he gestures over to where the book still lays discarded on the ground.

You roll your eyes and let out a grunt of dismay.

“It’s not a tantrum,” you whine childishly, “I’m just bored, and that book was dumb.”

He hums as he watches you sulk with your face pressed up to the rug. You’re incredibly charming, actually, and all he wants to do is reach down and pull you into his lap. Perhaps whisper comfort to you as he toys with you a little. Turn you into a gooey mess, both mind and body. He pushes those thoughts away, yet the way you look at him draws them back. You’re the picture of innocence with glistening eyes, body spread out on his rug as if you’re too dumb to care about the amount of skin showing. Perhaps you are; it doesn’t seem like you’ve even noticed that your skirt has now lifted enough for him to see the front of your white cotton panties.

He wants to tear you to shreds.

“Bored, hm?” he grunts out through gritted teeth. His hard cock is aching at this point. It’s a white-hot ache that sits deep in his balls. He can feel that they desire nothing more than to be emptied into you.

“Bored and restless,” you sigh as you let your fingers intertwine with Jongho’s fur.

Hongjoong hums in understanding, a grin rising to his face as you so graciously drop all the answers to his problems in his lap. He almost gets down onto the floor himself to kiss you, but somehow manages to hold himself back.

“I have an idea, little dove,” he says. “How about you go upstairs and see Mommy?”

And just like that, time seems to stop. The suggestion brings all of your attention to Hongjoong who is staring you down like a lion on the prowl. There’s a dangerous smirk on his lips, the man baring his teeth as if he’s about to go in for the kill. You gulp as you push yourself into a sitting position, feeling every part ‘prey’ as he seems predator.

“You think it’ll help?” you take in a sharp breath, “i-if I go and see… Mommy?”

“Of course, I do, little dove” he leans in close and grabs hold of your chin between his fingers. His fingers are a little cold to the touch, which sends a shudder through your body. The reaction you have makes him chuckle, “Now be a good girl and run along, won’t you? Daddy won’t be far behind.”

The second his grip loosens on your face, you’re scrambling to your feet and rushing out of the room. Your socks almost make you slip on the lacquered parquet. Hongjoong chuckles as you balance yourself before disappearing into the stairwell. You take the stairs two at a time, footsteps thundering through the house. There's no doubt in your mind that Seonghwa will give you a lecture about your volume the moment he spots you, but that’s at the back of your mind right now. All you can think about is what’s to come.

You step foot on the landing, practically skipping down the hallway until you reach the open doorway to an all-too-familiar room. You knock desperately, not bothering to wait for a response before pushing it open and stumbling inside of the master bedroom.

Immediately your eyes hone in on Seonghwa, lying on the bed in all his glory, nothing but a black tulle robe to cover his lithe body. His wet hair hangs over his forehead in elegant waves, dripping droplets of water down his nose as he relaxes. Despite your desire to have him take you in any way he deems fit, you can’t help but stop for a second to admire the view.

“I thought I heard you coming,” his silken voice beckons you in like a siren. You follow it, stepping closer to your doom with every step, “although it wasn’t difficult. I’d be surprised if the people living four towns over couldn’t hear you.”

He locks eyes with you, dark pupils drawing you even further in. You shuffle toward him until you’re standing by his nightstand. A pretty hand reaches out to rest upon your waist, fingers dancing across the pastel material of your corset. Seonghwa reaches around the back to where the ribbon holds it in place and gives it a playful tug.

“I was just excited to see you,” you defend as he continues to play with the bow at the base of your spine, “Daddy sent me.”

The fingers pause for a millisecond before going back to what they were doing. They pull at the ribbon, tempting it looser and looser the longer they play. You have no doubt the bow will slip open any time now.

You can’t find it in you to care.

“And why did Daddy send you to me?” His lips are pretty as he talks, plush and pouty with a natural red tint to them. He looks vampiric; black eyes, glassy skin, crimson lips. You move closer still until the mattress presses firmly against your thighs, “were you misbehaving?”

You shake your head at the suggestion. Bar the book, which Hongjoong wasn’t even there to witness you throw, you’d been nothing but a good girl. Perhaps a little disrespectful at times, but nothing Hongjoong couldn’t have handled quickly and efficiently by himself.

“No?” Seonghwa tugs you onto the bed as he speaks. The hand that rests on your body works hard to rearrange you until you’re straddling him prettily. He admires the way your tiny little skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, revealing the wet patch at the front of your panties. His eyes can hardly tear themselves away, and his dick begins to stir beneath the translucent fabric of his robe, “perhaps he just thinks a good fucking is what you need, my lamb. Is that it? Do you need your Mommy to help look after you, hm?”

This time you nod. You’d love nothing more than for Seonghwa to take care of you - he always does it so well. So slow that you can’t help but become dizzy with desperation; so soft that you can’t help but feel like a precious artefact being studied under Seonghwa’s watchful gaze; so loving that you feel nothing but safe in his grasp, able to turn off your mind and just enjoy him.

Seonghwa.

And upon that revelation, the man finally lets the bow slip open. Your corset loosens, gaping a little at the top. Your tits help to hold it up, but as Seonghwa begins to work on loosening the ribbon, you feel it start to slip away.

“Arms up,” he says as he grabs the material. You do as he asks, and he wastes no time in setting your top half free. You know better than to try and hide yourself from him, so when you lower your arms once more they remain glued to your sides - just as Seonghwa’s eyes remain glued to your chest. “Pretty little lamb,” he whispers, his face remaining stoic but his words soft. You can tell he means them.

“Do you want to take your skirt off too?” You nod, “Go ahead then, lamb; mommy can't do everything for you.” And whilst you’re under the impression that Seonghwa can - and mostly does - do everything for you, you obey. Slipping off of his lap, your hands work on the zipper, easing it down until the skirt can no longer stay up. Without so much of a touch from you, it slips down your thighs, exposing your white panties completely. You remove the skirt the rest of the way, throwing it on top of your corset to create a messy little pile of clothes upon Hongjoong’s pillow.

You look to Seonghwa for further guidance, your restless mind seems to enjoy being told what to do. It craves the softness that you so often get from him. The gentle touch and the gentle words that soothe you. The strict instructions that stop you from having to think for yourself, Seonghwa and Hongjoong - Mommy and Daddy - taking care of you entirely. It’s exactly what you need right now.

“My darling lamb,” Seonghwa whispers as he holds his arms out for you. You shuffle forward slightly, allowing him to tug you into a horizontal embrace, “Whilst I do love you in the family colours,” you know he means black - he and Hongjoong so often dress you up in expensive black lingerie before a night of intimacy. they love making you ‘theirs’ in any way possible, and wearing the ‘family colour’ is just another way to do that, “I must admit that the way your pretty pussy slicks up these dainty white panties is a lovely sight.”

His hands work together, arranging your body in his grasp until you’re lying just perfect for him. Your head sits in the crook of one elbow, leaving his hand free to play with your hair. The other arm lays on the soft flesh of your tummy. You relax into his touch, despite the fact that his hand is already beginning to move south. Still, he makes every movement so intentional that when his fingers do eventually reach the wet patch on your panties, it only makes you relax even further into him.

“So wet, lamb,” he murmurs into your ear, “who caused this?”

Obviously, he knows the answer, but he can’t help but take the opportunity to tease you. To see you squirm under his gaze as he waits for your answer is so entertaining to him. He knows it’s even more entertaining when you begin to stutter as pleasure wracks through your body; he begins to draw lazy circles against your clothed clit.

“Y-you and daddy,” you reply, voice breathy as Seonghwa increases the pressure on your sensitive bud, “you a-always make me so wet, Mommy…”

He chuckles as he feels your hips twitch against his fingers. You want more, and whilst normally Seonghwa would have you wait for it, teasing you until he’s decided you're ready for it, he can’t help but want to indulge you in your desires now. You're so good for him, he thinks to himself as he changes the pace a little. As your face screws up in pleasure, a smile rises to his own.

He continues at that pace, gauging how you're feeling by your facial expressions and the pretty sounds you make. When you bite your lip or furrow your brow, he knows you want more and so he adds more pressure until your mouth gapes wide and little high-pitched moans come from the back of your throat. That's how he knows you're happy. That is what he always aims to achieve because his pleasure, and Hongjoong’s for that matter, often comes from yours. Making the sweet little creature that they’d so lovingly taken under their wing happy is all they truly desire.

And you are, happy that is; falling apart under Seonghwa’s gentle touch will always be where you’re happiest. It's even better when he finally slips your panties to the side and puts his warm, delicate fingers directly onto your clit. You let out a heavy sigh as he spreads your lips with his index and ring finger, giving his middle finger an open pathway to the little button that is practically throbbing with the need to be played with again. And when he touches it, this time directly, it's even more electric than it was before. A bolt of pleasure shoots through you and you struggle to pin yourself to the bed. Your spine arches as you let out a loud whine. Fuck, it feels so good, and he’s barely even touched you yet.

Seonghwa begins to rub circles again, only this time without any barrier to dull the sensation. Magical, is the only word that you can use to describe the way it feels, each tender touch sending shocks of lightning through your body. It's like you don't have control over it as your hips buck against his hand, socked feet desperately rubbing against one another as it will do anything to help you ground yourself. Nothing can help now, not when Seonghwa has you feeling so high with just a few simple touches.

It doesn't take long until you feel it building up inside of you, racing to the top of that peak quicker than you can comprehend. You can feel your hole clenching around thin air, desperately trying to grip onto nothing. Perhaps Weonghwa would finger your next, preparing you for whatever is yet to come. You think you’d like nothing more than to be spread open with his lithe fingers, and it's that thought that finally pushes you over the ledge.

Your orgasm hits as the door swings even further open and Hongjoong walks in just in time to see you squirming under Seonghwa’s touch. He smirks at the sight of his darling husband taking such wonderful care of their little love, caressing your hair as he guides you through the intense feeling that is flowing through your body so rampantly. His fingers slow to a stop at just the right second, leaving you a panting mess in his arms.

“What a time to arrive,” Hongjoong says, voice clear as a bell as he makes his presence known. Seonghwa, of course, noticed him the second he walked in; the pair always did seem to have this weird, almost telepathic thing going on. They told you it was just true love at work, which was something you wholeheartedly believed, “It always is such a beautiful sight to see you cum, my dove. I could watch it forever and never get bored.”

Seonghwa hums out a chuckle at that, “Now isn't that a novel idea, lamb!” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Perhaps we’ll have to do that one day; a full day of making you cum over and over and over again”

“Maybe, Mommy,” is all you can spit out in response to their teasing, nodding along as if you're not dreading the idea of a whole day of overstimulation. The two men smile at your eagerness to please despite your obvious displeasure. Perhaps they’d suggest it again when you aren’t as lust-drunk as you seem to be now. Their only goal at this moment is to satiate you, not fulfil their own fantasies. They could wait a little while to put those into play.

Hongjoong shrugs off his jacket before clambering onto the bed, effectively trapping you between the two of them. Just like Seonghwa, he takes a moment to play with the hair that frames your face. He twists a strand between two fingers before tucking it behind your ear. Upon closer inspection, he can't help but notice the H pendant that dangles from your lobe. He wonders if Seonghwa has noticed the matching S sitting in your other ear, yet. It always does make the tall man so happy to see you wearing one of the many gifts they shower you in.

“I have something for you,” Hongjoong says, the earrings acting as a reminder of the box he’s had stored in the drawer of his nightstand for what seems like forever, now. They had been waiting for the right moment to present it to you, but right now seems as ‘right’ as any, “would you like to see it?”

You watch as he leans over to pull open his drawer, fetching a black oblong box from its confines. The box itself is nothing of note, but he passes it to you with such care, and you just know that whatever is inside of it is special. Your eyes meet with his, asking for permission to open it. He gives you a single nod in return.

You slip the lid off of the box.

“Oh,” you whisper as you lay eyes on what appears to be a collar of some sort. A thin velvet band that locks with a clasp at the back and finishes with a delicate bow at the front. Intricate lace frills surround the velvet, giving the collar more volume, yet keeping its soft appearance. A pastel pink pearl drips from a tiny metal ring that sits at the centre of the bow. Behind it is a petite chrome plate embossed with the letters ‘H&S’ in a fanciful font. It's beautiful, and you can't help but tell them that.

“You like it?” Seonghwa asked, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eyes. With the most genuine smile you can muster, you nod, “I’m glad.”

You feel Hongjoong close in beside you. He reaches an arm over your body to pick the collar up with a gentle hand. The velvet shifts in the dim light that shines from the chandelier above, and it changes colour right before your eyes, from black to a beautiful shade of magenta. You seem to recall Seonghwa wearing a similar dress once upon a time. It was black, just like your collar, but whenever he moved, the fabric rippled and in doing so, caused it to shift into a deep crimson. He and Hongjoong had waltzed together that night. It's nothing out of the ordinary for them, but that night sticks out to you specifically because of the sheer beauty of Seonghwa's dress.

“We wanted to give you something to remind you that you are ours,” Hongjoong tells you, voice as soft as the velvet on the collar, “because you are. From the moment we saw you, we knew you were ours. From now until forever, dove.”

And with that, he presses the fabric to your throat, dragging his fingers along it until they reach the clasp at the back. He fastens it, fingers lingering for a moment before pulling away empty-handed. You struggle to hide your smile as your mind fumbles over itself, repeating ‘theirs, theirs, theirs,’ over and over as if the fabric pressing into your jugular wasn't enough of a reminder of that fact.

With your newfound sense of belonging that you hadn't even realised you were missing, you find it easy to lean forward and take what is rightfully yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you steal a kiss from Seonghwa. Upon feeling your lips bump against his, lacking the grace or elegance he was used to when initiating kisses himself, he can't help but let out a surprised squeak. He soon finds his feet, though, taking control back in a matter of seconds and pushing you back against Hongjoong’s solid body. The clothed chest acts as a support for Seonghwa as he wraps a hand around your throat, softly stroking the jewellery as he deepens the kiss.

A tongue slips between your lips as a hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties. You struggle to focus on the way Seonghwa licks into your mouth when Hongjoong tugs the white fabric down your thighs, fully exposing you while the two men remain at least somewhat covered. You shift your legs slightly to aid him in his mission of removing them fully, never once pulling away from Seonghwa. You might’ve mentally praised yourself for multitasking if it weren't for Seonghwa shifting his body slightly, hard dick now pressing against your lower stomach through the tulle of his robe. Just one flick of the wrist and it would be fully exposed, ready to slip inside of you.

You moan into Seonghwa’s mouth.

He pulls away, panting desperately as he regains breath.

“Hell above, lamb,” Seonghwa utters, adams apple bobbing as he exclaims, “You really are a most devilish creature under that innocent exterior, aren't you? Pouncing on me like a little bear cub, hm?”

You go to answer, a touch of snarkiness on the tip of your tongue. Barely a sound leaves your lips, though, as a finger presses into your core and your words turn into a long, drawn-out whine. The finger bottoms out pretty soon, and that's how you can tell it’s Hongjoong’s; shorter than Seonghwa’s by a mile, yet ever so slightly thicker. As he adds a second almost immediately, you can't help but moan at the stretch.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you keen. Your head tips forward, landing with a heavy thud against the exposed part of Seonghwa’s chest, “your fingers feel so good.” He curls them inside of you, tempting a tiny squark from your lips. Then he does it again, routinely twisting them as he pumps them in and out. The sound they make as they swim amongst your gooey wetness is quite frankly obscene, but you find it hard to feel humiliated when so much pleasure flows through you.

Then you feel a second pair of fingers line up against your core, bullying their way in alongside Hongjoong’s. The stretch makes you choke on your spit, gurgling slightly as the longer pair brush against the squishy membrane of your g-spot. Like Hongjoong had moments before, Seonghwa begins to curve them slightly, petting your walls as his husband continues thrusting in and out.

The stretch is immense, almost reaching the familiar girth of Seonghwa’s cock. Like his fingers, it was long and whilst not necessarily thin, it didn't quite match up to the girth of Hongjoong’s. For that reason, you usually take Seonghwa first, but as you feel yet another finger press into your core, you can't help but wonder whether they’re prepping you to take Hongjoong first instead.

The fingers work together to open you up, spreading you wider than usual. You don't complain, letting them do whatever they choose with your body while you lay there limp and ready for them to take in whatever way they deem fit. They know your body well enough for you to give them full control. You trust them with yourself fully.

Hongjoong slips his three fingers out, and before long you can hear slurping above your head. Seonghwa’s fingers stutter within you, and you can’t help but feel a little curious. You flick your gaze to Seonghwa’s face, jaw dropping upon seeing his lips wrapped around Hongjoong’s digits, licking them clean of your juices. His eyelashes flutter gracefully against his porcelain-smooth cheeks, and even with his husband's fingers down his throat you can’t help but think he’s beautiful.

Hongjoong pulls them loose with a pop and dries the mixture of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit against his suit pants before he unzips them, his cock springing free almost immediately. It’s angry and red with precum flowing freely from the tip as if it’s about to explode if it doesn’t get something soon. You reach an arm out to touch it, but Hongjoong darts a hand out to catch it.

He tuts.

“Patience, little dove,” he whispers with a smirk, “Mommy may have let you take what you want, but I still expect you to do as I say.”

He wastes no time in shifting down the bed, gracefully moving until the head of his cock is lined up with your core. You half expect Seonghwa to pull his fingers free, but he doesn't. Hongjoong’s blunt head presses into your still-stuffed hole, only just breaching the pink rim. It's a painful stretch with Seonghwa’s fingers still inside of you, but Hongjoong goes slow, allowing your cunt to accommodate him at its own pace. With Seonghwa still petting that one spot, you find it fairly easy to let pleasure take over, the pain becoming more and more bearable until it fades into nothing.

It feels like it takes an age for Hongjoong to bottom out. Despite his cock not being tremendously long - perhaps even a little shorter than average - it seems to go on forever as he pushes it into you. The delicious stretch combined with the constant assault on your g-spot sends you hurtling towards another orgasm. All it takes is for Hongjoong’s pelvis to finally come to a standstill against yours, his thick cock fully sheathed within your warm, wet cavern, and you're coming undone. Your walls tighten around him, pressing Seonghwa’s fingers up against the shaft of Hongjoong’s cock. The latter bows his head and lets his jaw go slack. A guttural moan falls from his throat as he tries his hardest not to cum on the spot.

“My darling lamb,” Seonghwa chuckles into your ear as he slows his fingers to a stop. You're grateful for the break in stimulation, although you know it isn't bound to last, “you’re so sensitive tonight. It makes me wonder how you might react when I’m inside of you too. I bet you’d like that, yes? Mommy and daddy inside of you at the same time?”

You nod, although you don't quite let the true meaning of his words sink in. All you know is that you want them both, so incredibly bad. Your passionate, commanding Hongjoong hand in hand with your caring yet fiercely protective Seonghwa; they’d keep you with them forever if you let them. You’d live in their macabre bubble, surrounded by their morbid warmth and ghastly traditions. Your days would be filled with them; Hongjoong could teach you to fence or play chess, and Seonghwa would no doubt teach you about all the deadly plants he keeps in his greenhouse. You’d spend your evenings watching them Waltz in front of the fireplace, a funeral march playing from their old megaphone. Perhaps you’d join them from time to time, pressed to Hongjoong’s front as Seonghwa directs your movements from the chez.

And once the evening activities have drawn to a close, they’d drag you upstairs to bed to take you apart piece by piece. Each night they would push you to the edge of sanity before slowly bringing you back down to earth. They’d treat you like the most precious thing on the planet; a ruby to be polished and protected.

You want it more than anything. Seonghwa and Hongjoong - mommy and daddy - forever and always.

“Want you, Mommy,” you whisper, choking on your own words as Hongjoong begins to pull out slowly until only the tip is left sitting within your velvety walls. You cry out as his hips snap forward, propelling his entire length into you once more. It feels so good, and Seonghwa takes the hint to begin moving his fingers once more. It drives you insane. Chants of ‘please, please,’ fill the air, although you aren't quite sure what you’re begging for.

Seonghwa looks to Hongjoong, who lifts his head to see the silent question on his lover's face.

“One more, Cara Mia,” he grunts out as he pistons his hips into you, “she’s so tight.”

“Of course, Mi Amor,” Seonghwa hums and a mere few seconds pass by before you feel a third finger press against your entrance. You squirm as he pushes it inside of you, wriggling its way inside beside Hongjoong’s cock and his other two fingers. It's a snug fit, but you find it much easier to get used to than the initially painful stretch of Hongjoong’s member.

And even with the third finger added, they do much of the same, Seonghwa gently massaging your walls as Hongjoong pounds into you. The force of his hips increases with each thrust, making your mind go hazy. It's only made worse when Seonghwa begins to spread his fingers within you, making you squeal. His hand that still rests behind your head quickly comes to sit upon your fluffed-up barnet, petting it soothingly as he stretches you out even further.

You're babbling nonsense at this point, but neither man pays it any mind as they work you open past what you thought to be your limit. They're encouraged by the tiny pleas, keeping up their pace as you’re faced with a third orgasm. Perhaps that was what Seonghwa was waiting for because as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers, he begins to slip them out. You whine at the loss, even though Hongjoong is still working hard to fuck you through your orgasm, whilst somehow still staving his own off. Seonghwa just hushes you with a small peck to the lips.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, shifting you and Hongjoong ever so slightly. Just enough so he can slip behind you, his warm chest pressing up against your spine. For a moment, you wonder what he's doing, but then the chiffon of his robe moves to expose his cock and you’re struck by a sudden realisation of what both at the same time actually means.

That would explain why they were so determined to stretch you out…

Hongjoong’s hips slow to a stop with his member still deep inside of you as you feel the head of Seonghwa’s brush against your entrance. You moan as he forces the tip in with only a small amount of resistance from your stretched-out pussy. The unpleasant burn of being opened up is there again, but you bite your lip and let Seonghwa push himself into you alongside Hongjoong. You know the pain will dissipate soon, having already experienced it once with Hongjoong just a short while prior, but holy fuck does it hurt right now.

A helpful finger - although, in your dizzy state you can't quite work out who’s it is - finds its way to your clit, rubbing firm yet somehow also delicate circles on the little bundle of nerves. As you focus on the pleasure you get from that, it’s fairly easy to forget about the unpleasant ache between your thighs, and within minutes you’re once more able to relax into the ministrations of the men.

You whimper as the taller man bottoms out much quicker than Hongjoong did; perhaps he was just desperate from having to watch his husband fuck you for a while first. His tip gently brushes against your cervix, pulling a gasp from your lips as you feel him grazing against the sensitive muscle. He shushes you in your ear as he slowly begins to move. His thrusts are lazier than Hongjoong’s, slower and gentler just as they always are. It suits him; he always had been more restrained and patient than his shorter counterpart who is also beginning to thrust into you once more.

The contrast between the way the two men treat your body, as well as the determined finger upon your button, is enough to drive you crazy. You’re left as nothing but a moaning mess between them, squirming as they fuck into you at different paces; Seonghwa slow and gentle and Hongjoong quick and animalistic. You’re putty in their hands at this point, purely there for them to use and pump full of cum.

It doesn't take long for Hongjoong to do just that.

“I’m close, my dove,” he groans into your ear, “your precious cunt is squeezing me so tight; I can't hold on any longer.”

Mere moments later, his hips stutter to a stop, his dick still deep inside of you. You know exactly what’s coming, but it still doesn’t stop you from moaning as you feel the thick, warm liquid fill you to the brim. Seonghwa only fucks it deeper, forcing the feeling of fullness upon you. You expect it to vanish any minute; Hongjoong will pull out and the cum will flow out with him.

He doesn’t, though; more accurately, Seonghwa doesn’t let him.

Just as you feel Hongjoong begin to retract his softening cock, the hand that lies against your pubis, fingers dancing upon your clit, shoots out to catch his hip. He whines, more pathetic than you’ve ever heard him before; it’s a beautiful sound, and you can’t help but clench around them when you hear it.

“Cara mia, please,” he whimpers, jaw opening wide in a silent moan as Seonghwa continues to thrust into you, cock rubbing repeatedly against Hongjoong’s own oversensitive member, “it’s too much.”

You’ve never seen him so submissive before, and you have to admit you find it hotter than you feel you should. The two of you moan out in unison, the combination of Seonghwa’s languid movements combined with the control he has over the both of you is enough to send you spiralling to the end. You can feel it coming, but with the lack of stimulation on your clit, you can’t quite get there. You open your mouth to protest, but then Seonghwa’s tip pushes through the milky cum to brush against your cervix, and your mind is once again empty.

“But you can take it, Mi Amor,'' Seonghwa taunts from behind you, voice low and velvety in your ear. In a last-ditch attempt to keep any semblance of your sanity, you let your hands shoot out to grab at Hongjoong’s black shirt. It’s damp with sweat beneath your hands, but as you squeeze the soft material between your fingers, you can’t find it in you to care. “You can take it so our little lamb can feel good; keep her stuffed full until her Mommy can cum inside of her too.”

Hongjoong nods wordlessly, too focused on panting his way through the overstimulation to form any words. Through hooded eyes you watch his face contort with pained pleasure, eyes squeezing shut and brow furrowing as your fluttering walls and Seonghwa’s twitching cock torture his sensitive shaft. He looks so beautiful, and while you know you’ll probably never have the chance to overpower him in such a manner, you're happy you can at least bear witness to it now.

And with the knowledge that Hongjoong will behave, Seonghwa moves his fingers back to your clit. They dive straight in, tweaking the throbbing bud in a way that draws a loud cry of pleasure from your lips. Your walls tighten around both men’s members; an action which has them simultaneously moaning in your ears. Knowing just how much of an effect you have on the two men encourages you to constrict them within your walls again.

It must feel good since that's all it takes to have Seonghwa come to a standstill inside of you, ropes of his cum emptying into your womb and mixing with Hongjoong’s. It's beautifully warm as it shoots up against your cervix. That alone is enough to have you clenching down on them once more.

Seonghwa grunts as you milk him dry, and the moment he's finished spilling his load inside of you, he taps Hongjoong’s hip to get him to pull out of you. Perhaps it's that - the final drag of their dicks against your walls - that pushes you careening off the edge into your final orgasm of the night. Your entire body tightens as your vision turns white for just a moment. You can feel your back arch and your hips buck as Seonghwa continues to toy with your clit, but it's like your mind is separate from your body, unable to control anything that it does in response to the mind-blowing climax.

He takes his fingers away at just the right moment, not wanting to push you any further than you already have been tonight.

Still, it takes a moment or two for you to come back down to earth, the remnants of the orgasm sending endorphins racing through your body as you try to catch your breath. It seems the men on either side of you are in the same boat, heavy breathing the only sound you can hear. It's pleasant to feel their chests rising and falling against you, but the comfort you gain from it doesn't take away from just how empty you feel now.

And perhaps it's that or the sudden crash of adrenaline that makes your throat tighten and tears begin to build up upon your lash line. The first one falls, pretty quickly, but it doesn't get very far as Hongjoong kisses it away. His lips linger against your face, relishing the way your hot skin feels against them.

“Why are you crying, my lamb?” Seonghwa whispers against your ear. His fingers lift up to brush against your face, swiping away another stray tear, “are you that happy?”

“Empty,” you correct, voice stuffy as you allow yourself to cry, “but, I guess happy too. How could I not be when I’m with you two?”

They both hum in amusement as they crowd you with their bodies. You’re stuffed between them; the weird pastel meat in an equally weird gothic sandwich, and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Not when you know now that you’re theirs, and they’re yours - the tag of the collar that dangles against your throat reminds you of that fact. You pick it up between your fingers, toying with the cold metal.

“I can’t do anything about you feeling empty, I’m afraid,” Seonghwa says, “but I’m certainly pleased you’re happy, my little lamb.”

“You could stuff me back up?” You say, only half in jest. Hongjoong scoffs and shakes his head in a desperate refusal; clearly, he’s still too sensitive.

Part of you wants to take advantage of that and tease him a little. It would be so easy to shuffle and ‘accidentally’ brush your thigh against his cock. If you’re careful, you’ll definitely be able to avoid suspicion, and if you get caught you doubt you’ll get much more than a warning. Still, as you look upon his face and see nothing but adoration, the thoughts seem to vanish into thin air.

You let go of your collar, pressing the hand against his cheek instead and use it to hold him in place as you peck the tip of his nose. The metal of the collar clinks as he scrunches his nose up in mock dismay and gently pushes you back into Seonghwa’s chest. You giggle, and its music to their ears; so soft and bright that if it belonged to anyone else, they would’ve found themselves put off by it.

Since it belongs to you, though, it's become their favourite sound.

——————————————————————————

tagged - @vesvosmozhno

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez smut #poly ateez #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #matz x reader

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

Heyyy there! I really (like really) love your writing!!! It makes my day when I see you've posted a fic! I was wondering if I could request one either with doc!remus or emtxmaradeurs where the reader is very sick and kinda out of it and she's taken care of. Like maybe he/them asking her 'are you with me/us' becuase it looks like you're going to pass out. If you've written something like this before my apologies. Have a great day!!!

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 670 words

When Remus and James get home from their shift, they find you and Sirius curled up on the couch, you with a mug of what appears to be noodle soup steaming in your hands. You’re taking sips of it like it’s tea.

“Hello,” says Remus, perching on the armrest to peck his boyfriend on the head. “You two aren’t where we left you.”

“One can only lie around in bed for so many hours,” Sirius replies, tilting his head back for a real kiss. Remus gives him one, and Sirius takes another for himself. “I’m very entertaining, but after a while we both needed a change of scenery.”

“And why is our girl drinking soup like a warm beverage?” James directs the question towards you, but you don’t seem to notice. After a moment, Sirius answers for you.

“She wasn’t doing very well with the spoon, and though I made some excellent points about how romantic it’d be, she wouldn’t let me feed it to her.” Sirius grins salaciously at you. You offer only a faint smile in return, and he squishes your thigh in his hand teasingly. “Eventually we had to compromise on a more innovative solution.”

“I see.” James ducks his head, finding his way into your field of vision. “Sweetheart,” he says carefully, “are you with us?”

You blink. Your eyes look fever glazed. “Yeah.” You match his gentle tone. “Hi.”

He smiles softly. “Hey there. You seemed a bit far away, m’love.”

“She’s only tired.” Sirius kisses the side of your head. “We’ve just had a nap.”

“Oh, must be nice,” James jokes. You smile in response.

Remus frowns pensively as he plays with Sirius’ hair where it’s draped over the edge of the couch. It spills through his fingers like stygian water. “What’s her fever at?” he asks.

“It’s coming down.” Sirius nods to the fever reducers sitting next to a half-empty bottle of cough syrup on the coffee table. “We’re working on it.”

“What was it last you checked?” James presses, but Remus has already picked up the thermometer. He murmurs a quiet direction to you as he nestles it in your ear.

“Her cough’s gotten a lot better, too, if you haven’t noticed,” Sirius says proudly. “Right, babydoll? We haven’t been having many problems since the last time she had medicine.”

That’s not saying much, James thinks as he looks around. There are still wadded up tissues strewn about the coffee table, enough that he wonders whether one of them ought to go buy more before you all get ready for bed, and even if your cough has abated the scrape of your voice indicates your throat still feels like you’ve swallowed knives.

Still, he tries to sound upbeat as he says, “Yeah? That’s great,” and kisses your shoulder lightly.

“I can see why you’re so tired,” Remus says. The thermometer beeps, and his brow pinches sympathetically as he reads the screen. “That nap was the first good sleep you’ve had in a while, hm, dovey?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice a thin rasp. “I still have to turn over every now and then when my nose clogs up, though.”

“Poor love,” James coos, kissing your shoulder again. “I’m about to have a shower, would you want to sit in the bathroom with me and see if the steam does anything? I could use the company.”

“That’s a good idea,” Remus agrees. “After you’ve finished your soup, though.”

You give James a sweet, thoughtful look. “That would be nice,” you say. The sound of your voice makes him want to burst into tears. “Thank you guys for taking care of me.”

Sirius makes an indignant squawking sound. “Um, that’s actually been me, in case you’ve forgotten. These two only just got here.”

“Sorry.” You crack a smile, sleepy but real, and lean your head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Thank you the most.”

He hums, quickly pacified, and lets his head rest atop yours. “Apology accepted. Luckily for you, I actually quite enjoy it.”

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poltoreveur · 1 year ago

Text

Seduction by the Shores

Pairing: Luke Castellan x GN!Reader (implied pussy lol)

Warning: NSFW, set before tlt, smut, PWP, piv, semi-public sex, doing it on the wet ground, dom!Luke to slightly sub!Luke and back to soft dom!Luke, choking, going in raw and creampie (wrap it before you tap it!), slight aftercare.

Word count: 5.3k+ (I got carried away).

A/N: In the wise of SZA, “now I’m ovulating and I need rough sex.” So I'm back again with another fic. Weirdly enough, I reappeared last year just to write a smut fic and leave (oops). I usually have a summary for this, but this is just pure smut.

Edit A/N: Partial credits to supercutsszn (details on why in comments)

!Not readproof! I’m too lazy to reread my own writing.

Everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. Handsome, generous, and kind. Helps out the new kids. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. You’d even love Luke if you didn’t know better. Maybe you did anyway.

But you've always known there's more to him than his charming exterior. You've seen his eyes change like they're hiding something. That shift happens mostly when his father is mentioned, and he tense up. You've tried to avoid him, but he always seems to find you. One night, he caught you by the lake, his eyes kind but troubled. "I'm guessing you're not having a great night."

For all his charm and charisma, Luke Castellan is more than just the beloved golden boy of Camp Half-Blood; he's a human being with a complex inner world, one that's filled with secrets and conflicts. Despite his best efforts to hide it, at times, his inner struggles emerge, leaving you to wonder just how much more there might be to Luke than meets the eye.

You glanced over at him watching him approach you but kept your quiet. Luke sits down next to you, close, but not touching.

Luke looks at you, waiting for a comment or an explanation. The lake is beautiful, shining in the moonlight. It's actually quite a lovely scene, he's not sure why you'd be miserable here. He has this habit of looking at you without actually looking at you, somehow making it feel more personal.

"I could help with that, you know? Make your night a little more fun."

"Don't start with me, Castellan." You simply commented, rolling your eyes as your gaze stayed staring at the lake.

You can't tell if he smiles or not, but he laughs before speaking. It's actually just adorable when his lips curl up. Luke leans closer, not much. Just enough to make you a little anxious.

"How was I starting anything? I was trying to brighten your mood. I bet I could help."

Something comes into his eyes, a darkness.

His voice is still the smiling flirty guy that everyone loves, but his tone changes a little.

"Besides... you look so miserable. I've always been really good at fixing people's moods. It's one of my best qualities."

He leans a little closer than before. Close enough that you can smell the honey, citrus scent coming from his cologne. You're not sure if he does that intentionally, but he's quite close now.

"Come on now, you know you can tell me. Maybe I could put a smile on that pretty little face."

"You could, but I might have to kill you after." That made him smirk. The way he's looking at you... Oh Gods.

"You can try, you know I'd get you right before you got me, though. I'm too quick." He grinned. He was flirting, he always flirted, but there was something else in his eyes. Something darker.

"Come on, what could be so serious?"

“Not gonna talk it out of me, Castellan." You closed your eyes before lying down on the ground. The ground was damp but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, finding comfort just lying there.

He smiles and lies down right next to you.

Too close now, too close. You're practically on top of each other but he doesn't pull away.

The grass is very green, the lake is a beautiful dark blue. It's actually quite peaceful here. The air is still but not too cold.

"You're too stubborn sometimes. Why won't you tell me?" His hand brushes her hair absentmindedly. "You can talk to me, even if you don't want to."

"I feel like if someone doesn't want to, they won't talk." You pointed out the obvious, slowly glancing up at him again.

Luke smiles, his hand resting on your head now. He's actually being surprisingly gentle.

His eyes are so hypnotic in this light. His voice grows softer, a hint of that darkness in it still. “I like to make people change their minds. You would talk if I got you into the right mood."

"Not gonna happen."

"Really now?" He leans in just close enough to almost kiss you. He's still smiling, his voice a little bit softer, a little bit more husky.

"You're stubborn." He said, lightly tapping your nose. "I'm stubborn. We can stay like this all night if you want. But I'll stay here to remind you that I care."

Luke pulls back again, smiling at you. He gets a little bit closer though, until his face is mere inches away from yours. He tilts his head at just the right angle to catch the moonlight coming off his blue eyes.

"Think about that." Luke looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand on your head and kissed your forehead.

"Just a reminder."

Luke pulls away and sits up. His hands are resting on his legs now, and he's looking up at the moon.

"What do you think about the sky, you know? The stars. It's quite beautiful. Makes you think about things. Life's so short. Maybe you should do the things you want to do, while you can." Luke chuckles, sitting back down and looking up at the sky. He looks at you for a second, then looks away.

The air is thick with tension. Luke looks at you over his shoulder, with kind of a half smile on his face. His eyes are still that darker colour, but they're softer now. You're not sure why it's so tempting to lay your head on his shoulder.

"The sky is beautiful. You know, most demigods think of it as a symbol of the gods, right? But I've always thought of it as... freedom. I mean, who cares what the gods think?" He said, looking back at you.

"The sky makes me feel free. I'll look at it sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, you know." He glances back at you, expecting an input.

"You think the gods are looking down at us from the sky?"

He laughs a bit, turning back to the sky and looking at it.

"I don't know, maybe? But even so, why should we care if they are or not? I don't get what all the fuss is about the gods, why do so many people at camp obsess over their opinions so much? They're just like any other person, except they have a little more power. They don't really care about us, if they did, then we wouldn't be the ones doing all the important stuff."

“I mean, they say that Jesus is always looking down on us, do you think they meant the sky?”

He laughs again, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

"You're really not going to let me distract you from whatever's bothering you, are you? Even when I'm trying really hard." There's another hint of that darkness in his eyes.

"I don't want to think about it, I just wanna lay down and have a relaxing moment to myself, but I'd rather it not be on this damp ground." He knows how stubborn you are. Instead, he smiled and scooted closer.

He's so close to you now, his body is close to yours and he can feel your breath. He just stares up at the sky.

"Where else?" He looks into your eyes. He's enjoying this. You’re falling for this. He smiles. "The lake sounds pretty lovely to me."

"It's wet here."

The darkness in his eyes is getting stronger. His voice is growing husky again, the way you like it.

He can’t help it, Luke leans closer again. He wants the intimacy between you. There is a subtle change in his eyes. He stares at you, and now his hand is brushing your leg.

His voice is low and rough and seductive. “The lake is fine. I prefer it, even. It’s the perfect place for us.”

A hint of a smirk rises from his lip. He knows how much he affects you. You both know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you both want to do it, but he will not let you think you have any control over this situation, he’s always in control.

He leans towards you again, his hand moving further up your leg.

"Castellan." His name came out of your lips like a warning but you said it softly enough for him.

The smirk slowly rises on his lip, and he whispers.

"What, love?" His hand keeps creeping up your leg, his voice sounding almost like a growl. It's such a change from the charming guy you know, and it's so tempting, yet so unsettling. He stares at you, waiting for a response, waiting to see what you'll do.

You can almost feel the dark energy coming off him. His presence is just so dominating right now, he wants this. He is getting closer and closer until he's practically lying on top of you. He's not looking at you anymore, he's just looking down at his hand which is resting just below your thigh. It is not moving up, but you can feel the tension.

He leans up, his eyes searching yours. You can tell that he wants something more than just a little flirting. He wants to see how far he can take this. Luke's hands are going up even higher, brushing her thighs now. He's so close now, you can feel his breath brushing your neck.

The tension builds more and more. He is so close to just taking you right here. You can feel him starting to move his hands to the sides of your back, to the small of your back. He wants this, and he can't help but try. The darkness in his eyes is getting more potent, as his breathing gets heavier and heavier.

He leans in closer, his mouth less than a few inches away from your neck. You can feel his breath. He's waiting. That anticipation, that temptation, is just so intoxicating and it's making him crazy.

The darkness of his eyes fades away as he finally makes a move. His lips come closer, so close, until they just touch, making a soft clicking sound. His eyes close, and his lips finally meet yours, his lips opening slightly to let the kiss linger longer until he pulls back and leans towards your ear.

It was such a soft kiss, nothing more than his lips barely grazing yours. But the heat between them builds when his eyes reopen. He pulls away just barely speaking.

"Castellan."

Your voice is so low, so quiet, and yet so alluring. Luke’s breathing starts to speed up, and his grin gets wider.

He looks down at her with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice is low. "Luke." He corrected.

You only called him by his first name, whenever you’re gonna or when you’re doing it. He was certain you’ve been deliberately conditioning him with it.

Luke's movements slow, his body unweights your body.

His eyes are dark. A little bit too dark. He seems less sure of himself now. Still, Luke's hand is sliding up your thigh. Closer to what he wants.

He's so close to you now. He's moving his hand up and down your leg. Slowly. Almost teasingly. His voice is barely a whisper.

He quickly took the initiative by kissing you aggressively. But somehow your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his hair.

His tongue flicks into your mouth as his hands grip your thighs, he squeezes tighter. Luke’s breath comes out in short little moans.

Luke is on a whole different level now. He's enjoying this more and more. His eyes are closed as he kisses you deeper. His hands move further up your thighs. This is going exactly how he wanted it to. He's got you completely trapped and submissive at this point and he knows it. He opens one eye and looks at you.

"Do you want me?" He asks, his voice dark and smooth. He's holding himself just on the edge. Right where he wants to be. He stares into her deep sapphire eyes, waiting for an answer. It's a dark question, but he wants to hear it from you.

You simply smirk at his question. You knew that he wanted you to say it, your admission is everything to him. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction as you pulled him closer and just started kissing him again, slowly, biting down on his lower lip.

He groans and then laughs quietly. You weren’t giving him the words he wanted to hear. That was fine. He was going to make you say it.

He kisses you back, harder, faster. His hands are moving under your shirt, tracing the curves of your back and waist.

Luke leans back, his forehead leaning on you. Your breaths are coming faster and faster. Your lips touch when you kiss. He is in complete control over you right now, and he likes that. "You want me? Say it."

"I'm not giving you that power." Your hands travelled down his shirt and slowly went underneath it, feeling the tone of his abs.

His body is still now, but you can feel his muscles tensing as you move your hands.

It's like you're pressing switches that turn a machine on. A low groan escapes his mouth, as his breath quickens again. His eyes close tight as he tries to resist the urge.

His breath hitches in his throat, but you probably doesn't notice that for a moment. His eyes snap open when he can't fight it and he stares at you, waiting for you to admit it.

He's the only person at camp who actually has this level of control. He pushes you back down, his hands going down to your waist now. His breath is almost like a growl at this point. It's pure pleasure to hear that he still has complete control over uou. His voice is soft in your ear now. "Please."

You chuckled and moved down to his neck to kiss it.

Luke tenses again. His neck is his weakness.

He always liked to be in control, and his neck feels like it gives him away. He likes that you found this. "Please." His voice is low but pleading. They both know that he is very much begging you to say it now as his neck is being kissed aggressively.

Luke gasps as you continue trailing kisses down his neck. He tenses again. His breath is heavy in his throat.

The sound alone is like music to your ears. His hands are still at your waist, squeezing a little harder. He likes the feeling of you pulling at his shirt, but he tries to still keep himself on. "Please." His voice had the sound of urgency, almost begging now as his eyes dart to yours.

"I like it when you beg."

That wasn’t exactly what he wanted you to say but his body responds to your voice. His breath catches in his throat again and he arches back against your body. His eyes roll back and another low groan escapes his lips. One of his hands moves up to your neck as he pins you down against him, and starts dragging his hand down your back.

"You'll have to earn that," you purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.

Luke's body moves away from you. His breath comes out in short but heavy breaths, he arches his back and lets out a deep grunt of pleasure. "I can earn it." He pushes you back down now.

He is taking control again. He kisses your neck passionately, his lips against your neck, his breath almost like a growling moan against your skin. He is moving slowly around your neck now as if he's exploring.

He positioned himself between your thighs. One hand supported your back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.

It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before you came along. The way you both demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning.

Luke's hand is fumbling with his belt, it's not coming undone though. Like him, he's lost control. He's lost control over you, over himself, he never loses control. Maybe that is why he's enjoying this so much. Your presence and your kisses have turned him completely into someone else, someone whose only thoughts are pleasure. He leans forward again, kissing your neck passionately yet again. His breath is coming fast but heavy now. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the feeling.

You smirk before your hand slowly starts to help him undo his belt as well as unbutton his pants.

His head arches back slightly and he lets out a low groan again. "Yes..." He whispers softly. His breath is heavy in his throat. He takes a look down and is startled to see she is helping him undo his belt. Now he is almost completely submissive to you. You’re the one in charge now, completely at your whim. All he wants is you.

"Say please," you whispered, nipping his lower lip as he pulled your pants hastily down to your ankles, impatient as he is, he moved your soaked underwear to the side. “I like it when you ask nicely."

Luke is almost embarrassed. He has never been this submissive before. He always thought he’d be in complete control at all times. But you had to take control away from him and he doesn’t even mind. “Please…” His voice is soft, begging for you now. He looks down at you now, wanting you to reply. He wants to give up all control to you. All he wants now is your eternal pleasure.

You simpered before kissing him, your tongue eagerly seeking his.

You swallowed his moan as he hurried to himself free from the restraints of his boxers. He couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed himself into you. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave you everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around your throat, and you whined against his mouth, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, your own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.

This is more pleasure than he has ever felt. The feeling of being completely submissive is a thrill that he had never felt before. He loves being at the complete mercy of someone else. Luke pulls you closer to him, arching his back again and letting out low grunts into your mouth. He holds your neck and he pulls back, looking down at you. His breath is heavy in your ear, his eyes closed tight. “You have… complete control.”

He was completely lost now. All he could hear was her begging now. All of his focus was on you now, he was consumed by you. Your hands around his waist, his mouth kissing yours passionately, your bodies moving in perfect sync with each other. His breathing grew heavier as the pace grew faster. His hand tightened on your throat, as if by instinct, but still gentle.

Luke’s breathing was heavy, his body tense and quivering. His breath was all he could hear now. Every time he moved forward, you moved her body and his would follow, and vice versa. You both lost yourselves more and more in a world where nothing mattered but you and the feeling you could give him. His breath caught in his throat, it came out in moans of pleasure. His hand was tight around your neck, but you could feel the soft grip of it.

You close your eyes in the pleasure of everything.

Everything around you felt a little fuzzy even your vision as you threw your head back while still trying to keep your hands on his waist, but you didn’t think you could hold on much longer as you gripped on his way, slowly started to falter.

The pace was getting faster now. His breath was coming faster and heavier now. “Hey, stay with me…” He whispered. It was so close. He was so close.

His body shakes uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body was tingling with pleasure. His grip on your neck tightened slightly as you moved faster and faster. His breath was coming out in short little exhales. His eyes are closed tight, his whole body quivering. All he can hear is your breath and soft moans, which are getting louder now.

He is so close, but he doesn’t want to finish right now. He wants to drag it out for you. He wants you to experience more of this. His grip tightens again, but still gently. His breathing is coming out in short little gasps now. Every fibre of Luke’s being was consumed with you and this pleasure.

You keep going, your bodies moving together, the pace has reached its peak now. His breath is short and loud now, his grip is tighter on you but not harsh.

He pulled you closer by your waist with one arm, maintaining his grip on your neck with the other, aligning me to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, I bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as his whole body tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His body shudders, and his entire body shakes with the pleasure. His hand is now tight around your neck, as he hits the peak of pleasure now. His breathing comes out in the slightest groan of satisfaction as your bodies combine together in one last movement.

Luke is shaking by this point. His breathing is deep now and his whole body is a quivering mess. Your touch is the most intense feeling he’s ever had. The pace was steady now and the feeling had only gotten more intense. The feeling of your hands around his waist, as you move with him. Your eyes looking into him. His body is twitching and tense, his breath is sharp and loud now. He can almost feel what you’re feeling as you move together.

“Luke, I’m—“

“Don’t stop.” He whispered in your ear. He was so close. His whole body was tense and she could feel the vibrations of his breath. Your touch was all he was thinking about now. He was in complete control for the first time in a long time. He was in complete control of your pleasure. Your breathing became louder, and he knew you were close to your climax too. You could feel the vibrations of his breath as you got closer and closer.

Luke’s body is shaking uncontrollably now. The grip around your neck is the tightest it’s been all night, but still gentle. His breath is coming out in loud sharp gasps now, his body twitching like crazy. Your body is twitching with his, the both of you moving at your own pace.

His grip is tightening even more as he feels the buildup of energy in her body. His breathing is like a growl now. He has completely lost control again, you were the one in control. You were the one making the pace. Now he just wants to hear you finally call out to him, call out to him that you’re almost there. Your body is the only one he feels now. You, your breathing, your motions. You are all he feels. He wants you to let go of it all, he wants you to call to him. He could feel you getting closer and closer.

“I swear to the Gods, Luke. I’m gonna—“ You finally mumbled his name again, but it came out breathless as you tried to hold onto him. You were practically clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel you clenching inside around him. Which almost made him lose control, he would’ve given up at that very moment if it wasn’t for your voice grounding him.

Your voice is like music to his ears. It’s all he wanted to hear. He was holding on to you tightly as the both of you were so close to the end. You calling out to him sends waves through his body, but he is losing even more control of himself. Your calling out to him only sends him further into the pleasure. His grip around your neck tightens even more, as he pulls you closer, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

Both of you are extremely close and are moving together at the same pace. He can feel your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. You both move together like there is only one body moving. You both have reached your peak now and are moving like machines now. The pace is too much, you calling out to him is too much.

Your breathing is his breath. Your heartbeat is his heartbeat. The pace has built to its peak and it’s pushing you both to the end. Luke is so close to the end now, he is feeling what you’re feeling. You both finally are at the absolute peak of pleasure. You both reach their finale simultaneously. Your bodies shake uncontrollably and his grip is the tightest it has been all night as he lets everything out at once.

He came inside of you, his groaning was the only warning as you felt him shoot up his release.

He nuzzled right up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He was still slowly thrusting inside, just warm white liquid started spilling out of you.

Both of their breathing settles down and their bodies relax. Luke is out of his trance now, his breathing is coming out heavy but no longer is it an animalistic growl. He’s calm now, but satisfied. The whole night had been a thrill for him. It was exactly what he wanted: someone to take complete control of him, which he didn’t even know he wanted. His grip around your neck loosens and he pulls away from you.

Luke finally finds himself again. He is looking right into her eyes and his voice is low but soft. He is looking right into her eyes and he gives a small grin. “It’s okay, I got you.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head right into her neck. “Don’t worry.”

He kisses your neck softly again, but his breathing is normal now. He isn’t losing control anymore. He was now just content with your presence. He snuggles closer to you, his voice is soft and the glow of his eyes is different than before. He is relaxed, calm, and content.

“Are you alright?” Luke thought he might’ve been too hard with the choking earlier, but based on your expression, he didn’t really have anything much to worry about.

Luke was content. His body movements were slow and smooth now. He had complete control of himself now. The pace of his thrusts had slowed down but he was still inside of you. His breath was still heavy, but not because it was intense pleasure anymore. It’s just because it was comfortable. The glow in his eyes was not the same as before, his eyes were full of content and pleasure. Instead of intense pleasure, it was more like satisfaction now. His hand was still tight around your waist, and he brought his other hand up to your hand, squeezing it softly.

Luke’s breaths were coming out in slow grunts and he was keeping a pace with no intensity to it whatsoever. It felt more like he was moving in slow motion. The two of you were finally just moving together now as if you were one single person. Neither of you were looking at anything else. Nothing else mattered in this moment but this pleasure you finally felt with each other.

“I’m okay.”

It was as if his body was just flowing smoothly with you. His hand is still tight at your waist and your hand is still holding him tightly. The feeling was a complete mix of pure bliss and complete pleasure. The two of you were enjoying each other’s touch so much that nothing else mattered at all. You were just locked together, moving in an endless rhythm now.

You were still letting out heavy breaths in mere seconds, one after the other. “This is disgusting.” You motioned to the wet damp ground that you both were lying on.

He laughs at you. You both were pretty disgusting. But it’s also somewhat funny that he didn’t care, your whole bodies are soaked and sticky. Luke’s laughs are soft and low now. He lifts up one of his hands to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He looks over at the ground and laughs again as he looks back at you. He lowered himself as he planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands slowly grazing upon your cheek.

“Look at us.” He laughs silently, keeping his voice low. He chuckles a little bit, the two of you are such a mess right now.

Luke laughs a little bit more, it’s funny to him how much of a mess they both are. The ground is totally soaked and sticky as is your body and his. You both are completely covered in your own bodily fluids. It’s quite the scene to take in all at once.

Luke’s laughter dies down slightly, though it’s still somewhat there as he just chuckles at the whole situation. He looks over at you and smiles a small and soft smile at you. He shakes his head slightly, just still finding it funny. The whole scene is just utterly ridiculous and disgusting.

“You think they’ll notice us missing and coming back all sweaty and disgusting?”

He laughs again slightly and his body shakes in amusement. The thought of them both coming back to camp in this state is a funny thought to him. The two of you are covered in your own sweat and fluids, it’s not exactly a pretty sight of the two of you. So much so, that people will notice at first glance.

“Let’s wash up a little by the lake.”

He nods his head. He doesn’t even really feel that sore right now. You really were covered in so much sweat and fluids. The thought of even being around other people makes him feel awkward. Your suggestion is good though, a good old rinse-off is just what you both need right now. He pulls you off of him and sat up.

“Pull up your pants, Castellan,” I commented, looking down at him as I sat up straight, brushing off the debris on my clothes.

He is still lying at your feet. He shakes his head and he nods you off of him. He stands up slowly and he laughs at your comment. His pants actually fell down further and they are hanging around his ankles. He pulls them up and zips them up.

You were being direct, and it cracked him up a little. He is completely covered in yours and now his own juices.

“I feel sticky.”

“You think you feel sticky?” He laughs again and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and he pulls you up off of the floor and holds you close to him. He takes a quick glance around at the surroundings before looking right back at you.

“Let’s find a place where we can wash off.” He says with a smirk on his face. His body is a hot mess and he can feel every bit of it. He didn’t even believe they could get this dirty, but they did. So you need to get cleaned up now, especially before any of the other campers notice the two of you. That would be absolutely horrific.

“Nobody can find out.”

He chuckles again and he nods his head. You were absolutely right about that. Nobody can find out about this, it would be so embarrassing. You both would go down in history as a complete disgrace if anyone found out.

“God, we’re so nasty.” He muttered, leading the way towards the lake.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #i’m ovulating #i want this man all over me fr #smut #imagine #pjo disney+#pjo tv show

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withahappyrefrain · 5 months ago

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opening the door for them or pulling their seat out before they sit down with bob would be delightful!

You had only been at the bar for ten minutes and already regretted all the decisions you made that led to this moment.

Why did you agree to a blind date?

First of all, it was with your friend's coworker. And no matter how much Natasha said it was fine, you couldn't help but be nervous.

You had heard stories of the squad Nat worked with, some good, some…not so good.

"It's not the Hangman guy, right?" You asked her when she first brought it up.

Nat pretended to gag, "You're my friend, not enemy. It's my WSO."

So there you were, awkwardly shifting in the chair at the bar as you looked towards the entrance for the sixth time, anxiety building up in your stomach and threatening to come out like bile any moment.

This was a horrible idea.

You tried dating, you really did. Various dating apps, going to different bars and strike up a conversation, but nothing seemed to work out. Sometimes you'd get ghosted, other times it would end with you curled up in a ball on your couch with a pint of ice cream while some stupid romantic comedy played in the background. You quickly learned that it didn't matter how great the first or second date went, folks will change their mind about you at the drop of a hat.

At least with Hinge or Tinder, you could see a picture of the person and speak before meeting them. With a blind date, you didn't have that, only the information your matchmaker had given you.

He went by Bob. He was a WSO. From the Midwest, specifically Montana ("Don't refer to his accent as Southern, he will go on a spield '' Nat warned you). Very sweet, but shy at first, which was why he supposedly had trouble finding someone.

He sounded nice. Potentially lovely. But you knew better by now, after years of failed attempts and broken hearts.

Sounding nice didn't guarantee anything.

You wondered what Nat had said about you. Probably that only your parents called you by your full name. That you and Nat met through college was also a given. She's had shit luck when it comes to finding someone, hopefully you can change that?

You checked your phone for the upteemth time. 7:12. He was supposed to be here twelve minutes ago. Surely he wouldn't stand you up, considering he had to work with Nat the next day?

The idea was surprising, but not shocking. Despite the intention of dating, some folks were quite careless when it came to a heart that wasn't theirs. You had been on that receiving end more times than you'd like to admit.

He probably thought the idea of going on a date with his coworker's friend was too risky, too weird. Perhaps he looked you up on social media and found an aspect of you that he didn't like. Thanks to numerous assholes, you could list off several potential reasons. Not pretty enough, not interesting enough, not affectionate enough, too affectionate, too clingy-

The list could go on and on. Thankfully it didn't. Thankfully, the sound of your name, said by a soft voice broke you out of your thoughts and made you turn around.

Oh.

He reminded you of the male love interests from those Old Hollywood films you watched with your grandmother as a small child. Sandy brown hair that was tousled in waves, piercing blue eyes that stood out against his sharp nose and rosy cheeks.

But above all, he looked kind. Truly kind. Maybe it was the lopsided, assuring grin or the way his cobalt eyes shone against the soft lighting of the restaurant.

"Bob?"

His thin lips formed into a saccharine smile as he stepped forward, extending a long arm out.

Holy shit, he brought you flowers.

You couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed and open mouth at the beautiful marigolds and orange sunflowers. You didn't know people still did that-no date had ever done so for you.

"I-I'm so sorry for bein' late. I swear, I'm always on time, I just wasn't sure which flowers to get ya. I-I mean, I knew you liked sunflowers, Phoenix told me that but I wasn't sure if yellow was overdone or if I should do something different and I'm really sorry-"

"You're perfect," your eyes widened at your own words, "The flowers I mean! The flowers are perfect and beautiful and traffic happens, it's okay!"

His smile widened at your reassurance and you swore it melted your heart. Heat rose to your face as you accepted the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his.

The two of you walked to your table. When Bob pulled out your seat for you, your heart fluttered.

There was no way this guy could be real. Why was he single?

Often, the conversation on a first date was awkward and full of long pauses.

Not this one. Not with Bob.

He asked you questions about yourself. Hell, he even asked follow up questions. And they were thoughtful.

Bob felt the same way.

Yes, he found you stunning. But you were much more than that. You were insightful, passionate, kind.

Why on Earth were you single?

Bob was determined to make everyone else's loss his gain.

"Would you want to go get ice cream?" His fingers were tapping the table, a nervous habit that you found adorable, "I mean, I get it if you're tired but if you're not, I'd love to continue?"

A downright dopey smile overtook your face as you nodded enthusiastically.

"I'd love to continue!"

You couldn't hide your surprise though when Bob all but jogged in order to hold the door for you.

"Oh, thank you! But you don't have to do that," you explained. His brows knitted together in confusion, the corners of his lips slightly downturned.

How could one man be so cute?

"Do what?" He asked, confusion all over his voice.

"Oh, um, holding the door?" Was it wrong to have brought that up? Oh God, was he going to think of you as rude?

Instead Bob smiled as he shook his head, "Nonsense. You should never have to hold the door."

Oh no. You were going to be down bad.

As the night went on, your nerves disappeared, giving Bob a sweet smile when he held the door open or pulled out your chair.

You didn't say anything when he held the car door open to drive you home, just that smile that made his heart flutter.

But when he opened the car door after arriving at your home, you stood instead of walking forward.

"I....I had a really good time tonight," the nerves came swelling back. You couldn't recall the last time you had clicked with someone so quickly.

"I did too," his smile warmed your body, "Maybe...if you'd like, we could-"

"Do this again?" God, you really hoped that's what he was going to say. You didn't think your heart could handle it otherwise.

"Yeah," he let out a nervous chuckle, "I'd love to do this again."

Your heart soared. Nat now had rights to the biggest "I told you so" but you couldn't find it in yourself to care at this moment.

"I'm not doing anything this Friday," containing your excitement was difficult. You were positive that big, dopey grin was plastered on your face right now.

Bob loved it.

"I'm not either." That was kinda a lie. Fridays were usually when his squad went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate the end of the week.

But Nat wouldn't mind and that was all that mattered.

You two exchanged phone numbers, hands clumsily typing as you both tried to sneak glances at one another.

Once your respective phones were back in your hand, it seemed like the front door was calling your name.

Not that you wanted to leave.

Offering him coffee at this hour would be silly, no one did that anymore.

"Can I walk you to the door?" His voice was timid, unsure.

"Please." It came out abruptly, as though you had lost control of your mouth, "I mean, yes. I would like that."

When Bob offered his arm, you accepted, linking yours with his.

"This is my stop," you motioned to the front door, earning a chuckle from Bob. God, he was so handsome. And his hands were so large. What would it be like to hold them?

"I had a really good time tonight. Probably the best date I've had in...a while." The dusting of pink that spread across his cheeks was downright darling.

"Could I-"

"If you don't kiss me, I might explode."

Normally you weren't one to be so bold. But the ache inside you was threatening to burst at the seams.

"Oh thank God," was all Bob could get out before pressing his lips to yours.

#my writing #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #robert Bob Floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x female reader

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anakinstwinklebunny · 24 days ago

Text

SWEETS AND KISSES..

PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader

FLUFF

ANAKIN SKYWALKER's apron is tied behind his back, just right - not too tight and not too loose. Even though it’s a little big, and there’s a concentrated pout on his lips as he carefully stirs the batter. Messy curls kept falling into his face, and you can’t help but reach out to tuck them behind his ear. Having his attention on the dough, his lips curl into a shy smile, cheeks going pink.

“You’re not even helping,” he teases softly, though there’s no annoyance in his tone.

“I’m supervising,” you joke, and his smile only widens.

Every time you move around him--reaching for the vanilla or stealing a chocolate chip--he brushes a kiss somewhere. Your temple, the curve of your cheek, your knuckles, your lips. He doesn’t even think about it; it’s just his second nature. And you don't blame him, after all, he's the sweetest guy you've ever met.

“Careful,” he murmurs when you’re about to pour too much vanilla into the batter. His hands come up to guide yours, chest pressing into your back as he steadies you “There. Perfect.” His voice is so soft, so proud, and you’re blushing more than the reddish cupcakes dough ever will.

Then--his mom walks in.

“Oh, this is adorable,” she says immediately, her warm tone making you smile. “Anakin, are you behaving? And--oh!" her attention now on you "Are you staying for dinner?”

Anakin’s ears go pink as he glances at you, muttering, “Mom…” hoping she'd stop

But she doesn't, and with that, you’re suddenly the center of her attention as she starts asking about everything--where you live and with who, what you’re studying, how you and Anakin met. Her questions are sweet and genuine, but the utter number of them leaves you stammering through answers, trying to keep up.

Anakin sighs quietly, running a hand down his face, eyes closing for a moment as he lets go of the spoon. “Mom,” he mutters under breath, half-exasperated and half-amused.

“What? I’m just curious!” Shmi insists, smiling warmly at you. “You seem so lovely, and I just want to know a bit more about the person who’s been making my son so happy.”

Anakin shoots you an apologetic look over his shoulder, though the faint blush on his cheeks suggests he doesn’t mind as much as he lets on. He sets the tray of cupcakes into the oven “Mom,” he tries again, softer this time “Please, next fime.”

Shmi just waves him off with a laugh, giving your arm a gentle pat. “Next time then. I’ll leave you two to it,” she says, winking as she leaves.

As soon as she’s gone, Anakin sighs, searching to grab your hand before squeezing it. “I’m sorry about her,” he says quietly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “She just… really likes you. Which is good. Great, actually. I like her liking you.” He’s rambling, cheeks pink, and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

You lean into his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he instantly relaxes, free hand settling on your waist. “Thanks for… putting up with all of this,” he murmurs. Then, his lips brush your hairline, soft as ever, as he whispers, “You’re absolutely an angel.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

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wordsarelife · 4 months ago

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⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air and suddenly, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays.

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more.

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it.

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence.

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less.

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place.

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status.

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoys weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays.

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on a mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was.

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson. her perfect cut bob of black hair moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her.

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk.

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear.

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body.

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around malfoy.

but theo was nice, actually nice.

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you.

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness.

"what?" you wondered.

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth.

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway.

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded.

"obviously we are"

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms.

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore.

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about.

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest.

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place.

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread men.

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now.

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand.

you looked back to theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his gaze from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again.

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and your friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled to the brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised.

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone.

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body over the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other.

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, pointing between the two of you.

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette.

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that it was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it.

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence.

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded.

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture.

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with a deep kind of sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistening, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy.

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying.

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out.

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close.

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face.

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snowfall was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing.

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you.

“are you alright?”

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is”

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was.

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you.

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again.

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

go to the next part

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs @chimchoom @eggsysstuff @uku-lelevillain @lexi2005

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ldydeath · 4 days ago

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We Can Love Again | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Your boyfriend of two years breaks up with you suddenly. Jiyong, your best friend comes to comfort you and also to admit his own feelings.

Warnings: mild language, angst.

Author's note: considering making this a two part fic. We shall see. 🖤

Today was supposed to have been a really great day. Dinner with your boyfriend and then an event with your best friend, Jiyong. You lived for nights like this. You hadn’t been expecting to get dumped at dinner, though, which is how you found yourself curled up on the couch tears streaming down your face. Sure, it hadn't been the most perfect relationship but that hadn’t made your feelings any less real. You’d loved him and he just up and dumped you for no reason after two years. .

Not wanting to make a scene you’d left as soon as you’d felt the tears pooling in your eyes and beelined it straight home, turning your phone off in the process. The Gala event with Jiyong had completely left your mind the second your heart broke. You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, you didn’t really care either. It’s not like you had anything better to do.

A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts and you stood up, wrapping a blanket tightly around your dress. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of it. “Oh thank god” your best friend's voice greeted you as you opened the door. His eyes widening when you met his gaze. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours. What’s wrong, why have you been crying?” His words came out rushed, worry etched in his face. You moved to the side, allowing him room to enter your apartment.

“We broke up.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay as you sat back down on the couch, wrapping the blanket tightly around you. Jiyong sighed as his eyes surveyed the room. You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed as he looked around the dark room. He moved to turn on a light before sitting down next to you, a protective arm wrapping around you, pulling you closer. He had never liked your ex.

“He’s an idiot.” Your head moved to rest on his shoulder and you sniffled, a small nod of agreement following. “I’m sorry.” He kissed the top or your head and you closed your eyes as more tears fell from your eyes. Jiyong hated seeing you like this. You were his entire world and seeing you in so much pain caused him pain too. The two of you sat there in silence for a long while, the only sound to be heard was your occasional sniffle as you tried your best to compose yourself.

You moved slightly, wiping the tears from your cheeks, catching a glimpse of your best friend's outfit. “Shit!” You sat up fully, the blanket falling off your shoulders. “The gala, I completely forgot.” You reached for your phone, turning it on, your heart sank as you saw the time. When did it get so late? He shook his head, grabbing the phone from your hands and movig it to the coffee table.

“It’s fine, the guys were there so I wasn’t completely alone.” His reassurance still made you feel awful, and you threw your head back on the couch, a groan escaping your lips. You weren’t this person, a flaky friend who cried in the dark. You vowed to yourself that you would make it up to him. Lifting your head to look at your friend, you gave him a small smile. “I still feel bad.”

Jiyong chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. “I would’ve skipped the gala, you know. You could’ve called me. But there is absolutely no reason for you to feel bad.” Your heart raced at the close contact and you quickly chased those thoughts away. You were sad, any close contact despite who it was was going to garner that reaction. That was all. You didn’t like Jiyong. And even if you did, he definitely didn’t like you back.

It was nice being comforted this way. It made you feel silly for not calling him the second it happened. “Thanks for being here.” You leaned up giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, finally starting to feel slightly better. The world wasn’t going to end, you’d be okay eventually. He tensed when your lips met his skin and you pulled back quickly, your brows furrowed in confusion. “You ok?” You’d kissed him on the cheek a million times over the years, but he’d never froze like that before.

He stared at you, visibly uncomfortable, as if he was at war with his own thoughts. “No.” He shook his head, his arm falling from your back. You instantly felt cold again and you wrapped your arms around your legs, as if holding yourself together would actually keep the world from falling apart. Why wasn’t he ok? What had you done? “I have to tell you something.” Well, that was never good. “Ok?” You rested your chin on your knee, giving him your full attention.

“I think I might be in love with you. I know the timing is shit and all, you know, considering you’ve been sitting here all night crying over some asshole who never deserved you. But I need you to know that I love you. I think I’ve always loved you.” Your eyes widened at his confession. You’d been expecting him to say he was repulsed by you, not that he was in love with you. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I don’t know what to say…” you trailed off. You’d never really thought of him as more than just your best friend. Not until a few minutes ago when you realized you liked the comfort of his touch a little too much. But that was just the sadness talking, right? You glanced over at him, his eyes met yours, pleading with you to say something. Anything. “Jiyong. I- I can’t right now.”

He closed his eyes, hiding the million emotions swirling in his mind at your rejection. “Why not?” You almost didn’t hear the question, he whispered it so quietly and your heart broke for him. You hadn’t seen him so defeated since he’d made his grand comeback and you hated to be the cause of his pain. “I just can’t. You’re my best friend, I just got dumped. I’m in no condition to know what I’m feeling right now. I just need some time.”

He was off the couch before the words had even finished falling out of your mouth. Rejection had never come easy from Jiyong, stemming from years of having to proof himself. He never thought you’d ever reject him. “I have to go.” He made his way to the door in three long strides and before you could even process what had happened he was gone. Fuck.

Desperate for a do over, you grabbed your phone, calling him. “Ji, please.” You begged, willing yourself not to cry as you heard him pick up the call. “I need time too, ok?” His voice was broken up by the wind. “Time for what?” It was stupid to ask, you knew that. “To get over you.” The phone clicked and Jiyong was gone. How had everything gone to shit so quickly? You needed to fix this, you just weren’t sure how.

Tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi

#g dragon x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #bigbang x reader #g dragon #gdragon #kwon jiyong #my fics #wcla

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satellite-evans · 29 days ago

Text

Juntos.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary: Franco struggles with disappointment after losing his racing seat, but your support helps him feel less alone in facing the tough situation.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, little fluff

main masterlist

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is my first Franco fic so I am very excited!!! I am very new to Formula 1 so I will try my best to make the stories as realistic as possible. I dramatized this fic a little bc I could not help myself lol but I love Carlos sm and wish him nothing but luck in Williams. Also, I would not mind if you guys help me understand Formula 1 more xxx

hope you guys will like it :)

Also, the Spanish words I used are directly from Google Translate, if I made mistakes please feel free to correct me <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The dim light of the apartment cast a glow over the cozy space, the kind that usually made the room feel warm and inviting. Tonight, however, it felt different—heavier, subdued, as if the walls themselves understood the weight of the emotions filling the air. The scent of a faintly burning candle lingered in the background, a forgotten remnant of an attempt to lighten the mood earlier in the evening. Outside, the muffled sounds of the city hummed faintly, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence inside.

Franco sat on the edge of the couch, his head bowed, fingers tangled in his dark hair. His shoulders hunched forward, as though bearing the weight of an invisible burden too great to carry. The usually vibrant spark in his eyes, the one that ignited whenever he talked about racing, was gone. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the floor, unseeing, his expression hollow. It was as if the moment he walked through the door, all the fight had drained out of him, leaving behind a man who didn’t know how to put the pieces of himself back together.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your heart breaking at the sight of him. He hadn’t said much since he got home, just a quiet “Estoy en casa” before sinking into the couch. He used easy Spanish words around you since he knew you wanted to learn the language. That's how kind he was. You’d known this day would be hard for him, but seeing him like this was almost unbearable. The news had come down like a guillotine: Carlos Sainz was taking the seat. Franco was out, with no prospects for next year. No contract, no guarantees. Nothing but the crushing void left behind by a dream slipping through his fingers.

It wasn’t fair. You knew how hard he’d worked, how much of himself he’d poured into his career. The endless hours in the gym, the relentless study of data, the sacrifices he made, all for the pursuit of speed, glory, and a chance to prove himself on the biggest stage. And yet, it hadn’t been enough.

He’d tried to hide it at first. When he’d called you after the meeting, his voice had been calm, even detached. But you’d heard the slight tremor, the hesitation that betrayed his carefully constructed mask. And now, here he was, the man you loved, unraveling before your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The steam curled softly in the air, a fragile whisper of warmth against the cold tension that filled the room. You set it down gently on the coffee table before lowering yourself onto the cushion beside him.

“Franco,” you said softly, your voice a lifeline in the quiet. He didn’t look up, but the slight shift in his posture told you he’d heard you. Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. His skin was warm, but his fingers remained still, unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I know how much this meant to you.”

For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes met yours, red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. The sight of him like this—so raw, so vulnerable—made your chest ache.

“I did everything,” he said, his voice cracking. “Everything. And it wasn’t enough. They just… threw me away. Like I don’t matter.”

Tears pricked your own eyes as you reached out to cup his face, your thumbs gently brushing against his stubbled cheeks. “You do matter, Franco. To me, to your family, to the fans who adore you. To everyone who’s ever seen you race and knows how talented you are.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Talent doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the politics, the money, the… connections. Carlos… he’s amazing, and he deserves it, I know that. But I can’t help feeling like I’ll never be enough, no matter what I do.”

“No soy suficiente,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not enough." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet intensity.

“Don' say that, you're more than enough,” you echoed, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “And I know this feels impossible right now, like the world’s closing in on you, but this isn’t the end of your story. You’re Franco. My Frankie. You’re a fighter, a dreamer, and you’ve never let anything keep you down before. This won’t either.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time that evening, he leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder. The weight of him felt heavier than usual, as though he’d poured all his sorrow and weariness into the simple act of leaning on you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, cradling him as if you could shield him from the pain of the world.

“No sé qué haría sin vos,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your neck. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His arms came around you then, pulling you closer, as though he was afraid to let go. You felt his tears dampen your shirt, and the sound of his quiet sobs broke your heart all over again. But you didn’t let go. You held him tighter, letting him pour out everything he’d been holding inside.

“You’re my everything, Franco,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “And I’ll always be here. No matter what. Together, we’ll get through this.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy but filled with something deeper now—gratitude, love, and maybe a flicker of hope. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips trembling against yours but charged with a fierce intensity. The kiss was deep and searching, a collision of his anguish and gratitude, his need to find solace in the one constant in his life—you. His hands cupped your face, fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring himself to you, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. It wasn’t hurried but deliberate, each movement a testament to the depth of his emotions. You could feel the raw edges of his heartbreak and the unspoken promise of his love, so consuming and desperate it made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven, the faintest quiver still lingering in his lips. The weight of his gaze bore into yours, as though he was silently pleading for reassurance that you’d stay by his side. And in that moment, you both knew you were his safe haven, his reason to keep fighting.

“We’re going to get through this,” you repeated softly, brushing a strand of his hair from his face. “Together.”

A soft murmur broke the silence. “Juntos,” Franco whispered, almost to himself.

You blinked, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Juntos? What’s that? An unreleased Sabrina Carpenter song or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to coax even a hint of a smile from him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, and then, to your relief, a small, genuine giggle escaped his lips. It was the first time you’d heard him laugh all night, and it warmed you to your core.

He shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips now. “No, it’s Spanish. It means ‘together.’”

“Together,” you repeated softly, the word settling in your heart like a comforting balm.

He nodded, his gaze searching yours. “You’ve been saying it all night without realizing it. ‘Together, we’ll figure it out.’ ‘Together, we’ll find a way.’ You keep reminding me I’m not alone. And… you’re right. Juntos. We’ll do this juntos, no matter what.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they were from the overwhelming love and gratitude you felt. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, juntos. Siempre. Always.”

A soft chuckle escaped him again, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly. In that moment, the weight of the world didn’t feel as heavy anymore. Together—juntos—you knew you’d face whatever came next.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fluff #fluff #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto x fem!reader #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto angst

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strawberrychampagneglass · 12 days ago

Text

Roses pt 2 - A Fragment of our Pasts

masterlist

part 1 WC: 6k

C/W: angst, pining, some fluff ig, swearing, alcohol, a man, mentions of violence, mentions of substance some sexual references but not smut, read at your own discretion but it's really not too too much I promise

A/N: SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG AWAITED UPDATE I PROMISE FUTURE ONES WILL NOT BE THIS MUCH WAITING, GOOD NIGHT AND TAKE CARE YALL CUS I NEED TO SLEEP LOL I love u guys sm

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

I’m not a cheater.

The word that Paige almost spit out haunts her. The looks that her teammates gave her haunt her.

Buried in her hotel bed with a wet towel hanging around her forehead, Azzi shivers despite the fire that has set her body ablaze. It’s nearly noon, yet she still feels sleepy; her body is worn out from the migraine that sinks its claws into her head. Her throat feels raw and her cheeks feel sticky from the dry hotel air clinging to the tears she shed last night. But, Azzi knows she isn’t allowed to feel like this. She knows it’s unfair, but she can’t help herself.

“Azzi?” Cam’s voice is muffled but lighthearted. When she opens her eyes, the blonde stands above her with a look of genuine concern across her face. “I had to bribe the receptionist for a key, but I think I overpaid. She gave me a mint too.” The amusement in Cam’s eyes loosen a shackle around Azzi’s turbulent heart.

“Hi Cam,” she rasps. She opens her mouth again when the two stare blankly at each other. “I’m so sor-”

“She hasn’t been doing great since she heard that you were coming to LA. I put her on alcohol probation because I knew she would do something stupid if she were drunk, and thankfully, that didn’t happen.” Cam shakes her head before plastering on a pitiful look when she inspects the shivering brunette.

“Has she been drinking a lot?” The words escape Azzi’s mouth before her brain fully processes them. The taller blonde standing before her winces but masks it with a feigned, but thoughtful look.

“Um… not really, no.” She stammers, averting her gaze from Azzi. “What happened to you though? Where’s your fiancé?” Her stormy blue eyes scan the room until they rest on her shattered phone. Azzi swallows nervously when Cam crouches next to the debris.“Oh my goodness. Azzi, where is he?” the taller woman breathes while hunched over, inspecting the remaining pieces of her phone.

“I don’t know,” she breathes. “We got into an argument and he…he left.”

“Azzi…”

April 17th, 2020

Arlington, Virginia

Paige has a problem.

She’s slowly sinking into the Fudds’ sofa with one of Azzi’s books in her lap as she “subtly” looks at her best friend, admiring how she moves, how she blinks, and even how her face contorts into a scowl around her brothers as they swarm her while waving their dirty socks in her face. Unfortunately, Paige isn’t very good at stealing glances at her best friend. Her blue eyes catch Azzi’s warm, brown ones that are narrowed at her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Azzi sighs while plopping down on the other side of the couch. Paige’s heart drops when she sees the distance at which the other girl is sitting: away from her.

“Sorry,” she mutters slowly while returning to the book. She can’t focus though, the constant train of Azzi, Azzi infiltrates her brain. The brunette has been off since their plane ride back from Belarus almost 2 years ago. When she woke up in the morning, a searing pain scorched through her head and throat. Her vision was blurry and all her senses were disoriented. However, the feeling of her left hand latched onto her best friend’s waist underneath her hoodie and her right hand tangled in the mess of her best friend’s soft curls seemed to cure her hangover. She suddenly became aware of Azzi’s head resting on Paige’s chest as she snored softly, sending vibrations up her spine.

Rather than reveling in the comforting and warm feeling provided by the other body, she detached herself in a hurry as a familiar feeling of panic surged through her veins. One that only existed when the lines of their friendship began to crack. Their conversation at breakfast and on the plane was extraordinarily uncomfortable, and the tension was palpable; it felt heavy on Paige’s shoulders when they stiffly and very hesitantly hugged goodbye after landing in Minnesota.

It was a silent and mutual agreement to ignore the “incident” and continue with their friendship even though the strict lines of their friendship were now permanently impaired. The once-familiar norms of their friendship and well-established boundaries were now blurred. Neither of them wanted to admit it though, so they pretended. They pretended everything was alright. By the time the State Fair rolled around that year, they found a sense of near normalcy. Near. Normalcy. To say that Paige wasn’t hurt by it was an understatement, but Azzi had to pretend. If she didn’t pretend, everything would crumble.

After wishing Azzi’s family good night, the two start their unbearably slow trek to Azzi’s room. There was discord between the two girls; it became excess weight that the girls dragged along, making the usually quick journey feel strenuous and even longer than normally perceived. As she plops down on her side of the pillow barrier that had been put in place since Paige arrived in Virginia, Azzi grabs the TV remote and jams a few buttons until Frozen appears on the screen.

“Do you ever get tired of this movie? Like damn, Elsa making a castle of ice to seclude herself from everything else seems kinda emo.” Paige’s snide comment earns a punch from her best friend on the other side of the pillow wall.

“Shut up, Paige. You’ve just never been able to put yourself in Anna’s shoes,” Azzi retorts. Paige doesn’t miss the soft chords of her laughter hidden amongst the playful banter. “Isn’t it symbolic how she goes from one love to another?”

“Bro, this shit-” Her words are cut off when Azzi sticks a finger in her face. Groaning, she slumps into her pillow and closes her eyes. After a few minutes, the obnoxiously loud music is abruptly cut off. Paige’s eyes fly open as she sits up before meeting Azzi’s eyes. Her dark eyes glow in the dark and she sees every little detail of her brown irises and dilated pupils.

“I got bored.” She states before whipping out her phone.

“You never get bored of Frozen.”

“Well, I guess you kind of got to me.”

“Az, what’s wrong? Talk to me, c’mon. You’ve been off this whole time that I’ve been here.”

Azzi sighs and puts her phone down against her chest. “I don’t know. Good night, Paige. I’m gonna sleep.” Instead of a verbal response, she is smothered under a cushioned weight. “Ow, what the f-”

“Azzi. What’s. Wrong?” Paige’s face is contorted in a scowl but her voice is soft and reassuring. The brunette picks at her fingers, refusing to meet her best friend’s gaze.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She turns so that her back faces Paige. The air weighs down on them, heavy from the exasperated breaths that have escaped the mouths of the two girls. Paige chews on her lip as she watches the other girl scroll through a myriad of Instagram stories when she sees a particularly provocative story that makes her blood boil: a close-friends story with a picture of Azzi and a guy sitting at a cafe together with the caption “sniped.”

“Is this about the night in Belarus?” Azzi’s blood runs cold and she brings her phone to her chest before turning to Paige. She closes her eyes before letting out a silent groan. “We can’t ignore it forever. It’s causing a rift between us, and we’re gonna have to address it at one point.”

“That night was a fucking mistake.” Paige flinches and whips her head in the other direction, away from Azzi. She isn’t sure if it’s the blonde’s relentless jabs for information or her frustration that still lingers that prompts the harshness in her tone.

“Az, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I woke up hungover with you in my arms. Bonus, I guess.” When Azzi doesn’t laugh at Paige’s sarcastic quip, she sighs but continues. “Believe me, I was confused too. I guess we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but since then, you’ve been so fucking distant,” Paige clenches her jaw in frustration. When she receives silence as an answer, she slumps into her pillow and stares at the barrier.

“You know, I went on a date the other day.” Azzi’s words break the uncomfortable silence. The blonde gapes at her before laughing awkwardly. However, the air from her lungs is sucked out of her body and she feels a force that doesn’t break through her skin or bones but shatters her heart.

“That’s cool.” Her tone is dry even though her heart is hammering against her ribcage. “Um… how’d it go?” Her tone is dry, but she still asks. Because Azzi is her best friend, and that’s what best friends do, right?

“It was… fine. I haven’t talked to him since, though. I guess we didn’t hit it off, you know? Not like he was my type anyway.” Paige nods, averting her gaze to hide her relief. “Are you jealous?” Azzi teases, smirking shyly at the flustered blonde. “You don’t have to be. He was awkward and we didn’t have a good time. I would rather have spent the time with you.”

“Oh,” Paige murmurs while chewing on her upper lip, only half listening to Azzi. “I would’ve rather spent the time with you too. The date sounded boring.” The room becomes eerily silent and both of them begin to feel the weight of the tension on their shoulders.

“It’s just gonna be weird when you go to college.” Azzi finally mutters, burying her face into her pillow and releasing a heavy sigh.

“We’ll still FaceTime every night, it’ll even be easier because we’ll be in the same time zone.”

“You’ll have rigorous practices because you’re a student-athlete, Paige. You also have homework and I’m sure the college workload is a lot heavier than high school.” The blonde swallows and runs her hands through her messy hair. She hadn’t thought about that.

“Well…we can make it work, I mean, we always have,” she sputters, looking everywhere but at Azzi. “I won’t forget about you, I promise. You’re still my best friend, and you’ll always be.” Her voice grows quiet and she picks at her fingers. Azzi doesn’t miss the way Paige’s eyes seem a little too turbulent, even under the dim light provided by the glow of their phones.

Instead of acknowledging their feelings, she raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Sure. You won’t forget me, right? I swear that after we saw each other in that one AAU tournament you ghosted me for 3 weeks.”

Paige groans, “That was one time. I was busy!”

“Right,” Azzi says, smirking. “Busy becoming an Instagram celebrity with 12 followers. Big league stuff.”

The corners of Paige’s mouth twitch as she remembers her Instagram posts that were specifically tailored for Azzi. “Thirteen now, thank you. And one of them might be a bot, but still, commitment.”

“Thirteen? Wow! That’s a whole basketball roster,” Azzi giggles, prodding at Paige’s ribcage. The blonde squirms away, swatting at Azzi’s hand with a yelp before she retaliates by darting at her toned stomach. “Hey, that’s not fair,” Azzi exclaims with a shaky voice before grabbing Paige’s wrists and flipping her over. Their tickle fight comes to an abrupt stop and Azzi swallows thickly. Oh.

Suddenly, Paige is very mindful of Azzi’s hot breath that contrasts with the cool air that surrounds them. Each breath makes the skin on her neck prickle with anticipation, but she reluctantly pulls her body away. Instead, she reaches for Azzi’s cheek and caresses the soft skin, sending shivers down both of their bodies.

“I’ll always be there for you, I promise. It’ll be us against the world, you know what I mean? Paige and Azzi, together.” Her voice is soft and wistful, yet her blue eyes sparkle with determination.

“Together,” Azzi breathes as she buries her head into the older girl’s neck, wrapping her arms around her waist and taking in her rosy scent. Paige’s hands find their way through her curls and everything feels perfect.

“I’ll miss you. A lot.”

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

401. 403.

“That fucking motherfucker,” Paige snarls under her breath while sprinting down the hotel hallway. The pills in the nearly empty bottle of Ibuprofen rattle against the plastic that threatens to explode under Paige’s grip.

“Room 435. If y’all end up fucking, I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Fuck you too, Cam.” 405. 407. 409. Paige nearly slams her knee into the sharp corner.

411. 413. 415. 417. 419.

“I’ll always be there for you, I promise.” The words she said 8 years ago just before their unspoken feelings unraveled themselves like a ribbon awaiting a very eager child on the morning of Christmas Day replay in her mind.

421. 423. 425. 427. Every step adds pressure onto her raging hangover headache. She’s almost there. Almost.

429, 431, 433. How long is this fucking hallway?

435. Paige stops and hesitates before extending a shaky hand to scan the keycard and open the door.

April 6th, 2025

Tampa Bay, Florida

A collective and electric feeling of euphoria lightens the air of the gym as the UConn Women’s Basketball team celebrates their hard-fought win against a 1-seed team in the Final Four. Paige weaves her way between her teammates, giving an occasional hug here and there until her eyes land on her. A pair of warm, brown doe eyes stare back at her. Azzi stands in front of her with a wide grin carved across her face. The blonde lets a contented sigh leave her lips and grins, preparing to jump into her best friend’s arms…

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

In the middle of the room on a king-sized bed lies a familiar figure in her bomber jacket buried under the thick comforter. Her eyes are red and a damp towelette clings onto her forehead.

“Cam?” An uneasy voice rasps. When the figure lifts herself off the mattress, she freezes. “Paige,” she says cooly, but there’s a hint of wistfulness. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll leave,” Paige manages to stutter out as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, turning away and heading toward the door. “I’ll leave this for you here,” she mutters as she puts the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Feel better soon.”

A muffed, yet broken sob escapes Azzi’s mouth. “Stay, please. I don’t have anyone.”

That’s all it takes for Paige to open the doors to her heart again. She cautiously walks over while refusing to meet the pair of warm brown eyes that wander over her body. The two sit in silence before it’s broken by another strangled breath that comes out of the brunette. “Shit, Az…zi,” Paige begins to panic, staring at the other woman who has broken into a frenzy of sobs. Reflexively, her hand extends, but it stops, just before reaching her face.

“I don’t get why you’re here,” Azzi chokes out between gasps of air.

“I…I made a promise.” Paige replies curtly. Her fingers move on their own accord as they begin to caress the tears away. Inside of her head, everything is ringing, telling her that this is wrong. But Paige decides to ignore it and she hopes that this time will be different from every other time. “I’ll always be here for you. Cam told me you weren’t doing great so I came over with Ibuprofen. Paige looks around the room nervously. The alarm bells in her head have been going off for too long. “Look, I think I should go, but it was nice to-”

To her shock, Azzi cusps her cheeks and pulls her in for a searing kiss. There’s hunger in it as they move their mouths in tandem, neither of them pulling away. Azzi lets her tongue slip as Paige lets her hands move down her torso until they reach her waist. Her fingertips dance along the smooth ridges of her skin where they etch the words “I love you.” She grips firmly, pulling the brunette off the bed and pressing her flush against her own body. “Fuck,” the younger woman moans against Paige’s lips, sending a shiver through the older woman’s body. Azzi starts to tangle her hands through Paige’s hair until-

Her eyes fly open.

April 6th, 2025

Tampa Bay, Florida

…Until her best friend is whisked away by a mysterious man with olive skin and brown curls. Paige’s heart plummets into her stomach when his firm hand grasps Azzi’s waist. She turns away, throws herself into KK’s eager arms, and plasters a smile onto her face.

Because it’s okay, and Paige will be okay.

We’re not exclusive.

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

The room is dark and empty except for the sound of familiar, anguished coughs. The pungent scent of weed smoke fills the air and Azzi stifles a gag. She lets her eyes flutter open. When she does, she catches a glimpse of shimmering blonde hair. It makes her heart beat erratically. It’s been 3 years. 3 years of separation from each other, yet she knows it’s Paige Bueckers.

“Who the fuck are you?” The blonde whips around, startled by an unfamiliar harsh voice.

As an olive-skinned man slides through the door of the hotel room, Paige is harshly reminded of the diamond ring that sits on her Azzi’s ring finger. “Charles.” Paige extends a hand to the man. His bloodshot eyes flicker down to her hand, devoid of any jewelry, before they meet Paige’s again. After a heartbeat, their hands clasp firmly in a brief handshake–his grip firm, too firm. Her pulse quickens, yet she refuses to flinch and meets his gaze with equal intensity.

“Paige. Hi.”

Behind him, Paige notices three things. First, the putrid stench of weed hits her in waves. Second, she sees a pile of a white, powdery substance on the bathroom counter. Third, she sees a flushed Azzi, who lies alone in an otherwise untouched bed. The sight of Azzi in a vulnerable position sends

Charles studies her with curiosity and a very noticeable sniffle. “Do you… need anything? Why are you here?”

Every nerve in her body begs her to stay and push the lame excuse of a man out of the way. Most of all, the only thing she wants to do is cradle the younger woman in her arms and tell her that everything will be okay. But Paige sighs and hands Charles the pill bottle before turning away. “No, Cam told me to drop this off. I’ll be heading out, but take care.” She feels a pair of brown doe eyes engraving themselves onto the back of her head, but she can’t. She walks away.

Paige Bueckers, you’re such an idiot.

***

Three days later, Paige and the rest of her teammates are huddled around a secluded table at a local bar. It’s in a secluded part of the city, giving the team privacy despite the energy in the air. Rickea Jackson had organized the meet-up impulsively after hearing about Azzi’s plans to return to New York for the next two weeks in preparation to officially move to Los Angeles.

The team is decently buzzed, having ordered 2 rounds of shots already. They’re ready to let loose tonight; most people had plans to visit their families in the upcoming weeks.

As for Paige, it’s evident that she has consumed several drinks already. She needs an escape from the labyrinth of her thoughts that trap and corner her. She’s spiraling, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight against it. Cam, Rickea, and even Dearica insisted that Paige should stay sober tonight, but Paige was drowning. She was adamant about drinking after the events that occurred earlier in the week. Cam and Dearica did their best to distract her, taking her to lifts, pickup games, and even shopping after her birthday. And while it worked beautifully for a few days, the effects of the distraction were completely worn off by tonight.

Paige sits in a secluded corner of the bar, trying to separate herself from the rest of her team. The sight of Azzi sitting across from her amplifies Paige’s heightened anxiety. Her eyes are trained on Azura Stevens, who is animatedly telling her about the children she worked with the other day while nursing a drink at the same time. Although partially disengaged, Azzi stays polite and friendly. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, a small part of Paige’s heart flutters at the sight of Azzi assimilating well with the Sparks.

“Paige, were you even listening to me?” Next to her, an exasperated Cam stands up and walks up to the shorter woman. Her hand rubs soothing circles on Paige’s back; a simple gesture that causes her waterline to prickle and prompts tears to form. Azzi’s eyes flicker over to Paige, noticing the dark circles around her eyes. Her blue irises have lost their luster, and her shoulders are slumped forward. The blonde glances at Azzi and offers a weak nod of acknowledgment. The friendly act sends static electricity through her body.

She doesn’t know how their relationship, or the remnants of it, got to the point where even the simplest friendly gesture seldomly happens. Azzi tries to ignore the heavy pit of if only things were different that knots itself into her stomach. But she fails and it simmers with the turbulent sea of her emotions.

“Yo, Az!” Odyssey Sim’s booming voice catches Azzi off guard and causes her to flinch. A flicker of concern flashes over Paige’s face but it is quickly masked with a guarded scowl. It’s an emotion only Azzi can discern; the two women spent years carving themselves into each other’s skin, etching marks of unspoken promises in every crevice. They were each other’s mosaics; they spent years meticulously putting every intricate piece together. Azzi learned the meaning behind the faintest, yet most intentional quivers of Paige’s muscles from their years together.

But now, everything about Paige seems foreign.

If Odyssey and Paige notice how Azzi flinches at the loud voice, they ignore it. At least, Paige does. “Az, come join us,” Odyssey’s voice is softer, with tones of empathy laced under each syllable. “Truth or drink, team tradition.” Reluctantly, she hoists herself from her seat to walk over to Odyssey and the flock of basketball players passing a bottle of Devil’s Spring around.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Azzi mutters to Azura who laughs and ruffles her hair playfully. “Azura, I can’t play truth or drink. We’re adults, not carefree college students,” she glances at Paige who is animatedly arguing with Odyssey about getting a virgin shot.

“Odyssey, that’s not fair. I’on even drink that much anymore,” Paige whines, throwing her hands over her head. Odyssey frowns and pours the blonde a shot of vodka, not wanting to argue with her. Paige grins triumphantly and Cam rolls her eyes from across the table.

Azura snickers and turns to Azzi. “You’ll be fine kiddo. Team tradition.”

Azzi groans, letting her head drop into her hands. She did not want to share too much information with her teammates, and she did not want to be completely shitfaced in front of her new teammates. After all, that’s more Paige’s fashion than hers, but not wanting to fight with her teammates, she allows Azura to pour her a shot.

Or two.

Or three.

Paige watches her, amused by the uncertainty painted across her face as she warily inspects the three nearly overflowing shot glasses. Azzi glances up at her, an unreadable expression flashing across her face before she turns away, her jaw tightening. Paige knows it’s unfair, but she flinches at the hostility swarming the warm brown eyes she’s grown to know and love.

***

The bar buzzes with a faint hum of music and laughter, the kind that borders being too loud but also keeping everyone grounded in the moment. The occasional boisterous cheers after a teammate opts to throw a drink back instead of answering personal questions about their sex lives that emanate from the table earn occasional glares from bystanders.

“Alright, alright. We gotta save some questions for our princess,” Odyssey announces, cutting through the chatter as she leans forward across the table, flipping through a messy notebook full of questions. “Fudd, you’re up.”

Azzi swallows, feeling the intense gazes of all of her teammates scouring her body as if their stares could rip all her secrets apart. She stiffens when a dark gleam enters Odyssey’s gaze as she scribbles something on a slip of paper and hands it to her. When she opens the note, she stiffens, a cold bead of sweat dribbling down her neck.

“Have you ever ruined someone else’s relationship?” Azzi reads aloud, her voice hesitant. The table erupts with laughter and a bunch of “oohs” and “ahhs.” From across the table, Paige pretends to seem unfazed but her subtle nail-biting reveals her uneasy demeanor, but there’s a hint of a silent challenge that enters her eyes.

“Damn, Sims. You really went for the throat for our little newbie,” Cam chuckles, earning a glare from Azzi. Azura leans back in her seat, sipping from her drink while giving Azzi an encouraging nod.

“Team tradition,” Odyssey grins unapologetically while twirling the ballpoint pen in between her fingers. “Gotta make it memorable for our first-timer, right?”

Azzi flips her off before glancing at the paper slip again, debating whether she should throw the shot of vodka back that sits next to her. The weight of the question settles over her like a heavy cloak. It’s not an easy one to avoid–if she drinks, her teammates will know that she’s hiding something from them. However, if she answers, she knows she will regret it tonight. Before she can let herself decide, she opens her mouth, and a single syllable rolls off her tongue.

“Yeah.” Paige’s eyebrows shoot up before furrowing as she leans forward ever so slightly. The table falls silent for a moment, a silence louder than the music and laughter in the bar. The weight of the curiosity of her teammates settles down on her, drowning and suffocating her. Cam and Paige share a knowing look with each other and cough awkwardly.

“Well… do you regret it?” Odyssey asks, her gaze flickering knowingly between Paige and Azzi. Azzi’s fingers tighten around the shot glass, her knuckles whitening. Paige savors the way the muscles in her fingers flex for a split second before swallowing and glancing at Azzi expectantly.

“It’s complicated…” she finally mutters, desperately looking around at her teammates. Paige scoffs silently, turning away to sip from her drink. When Azzi risks a glance at Paige, guilt pools in her stomach as she notices the hurt and anger that flickers in her eyes. The tension between them is palpable, their unspoken history hanging between them like a storm cloud.

Eventually, when it’s Paige's turn, she leans back in her chair, basking in the attention of her teammates. “Guess it’s my turn,” she mutters.

“Alright, superstar,” Odyssey mocks while sticking her tongue out at the blonde. She scribbles down a question and slides it across the table. Paige picks it up, silently inspecting it before letting out a dry laugh.

“What’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made?” she reads aloud, her voice tinged with irony. The table falls into an uncomfortable silence again. Paige doesn’t hesitate and picks up her shot glass and downs the vodka in one smooth motion. Azzi traces a loose droplet that dribbles down her neck before clinging to her toned collarbone exposed by the simple tank top that frames Paige’s tall figure. The tightness in her chest grows. She knows Paige’s avoidance isn’t about the question, but more about her. The blonde slams the shot glass on the table and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on Azzi.

“Guess you’ll never know,” Paige says with a hollow smile, her voice piercing Azzi’s skin like daggers. The game continues, but the once-exuberant laughter begins to settle down. The tension between the two basketball players lingers and the unspoken words and old wounds simmer beneath the surface. She knows the night is far from over, but she’d rather be anywhere other than her hotel room.

***

As her teammates began to leave their seats and move to the dance floor, Azzi and Paige were involuntarily sitting next to each other. The distance between them was only several feet, but it felt like miles of separation with their unspoken past. Surprisingly, a soft and familiar voice addresses her.

“I’m sorry ‘bout the other night,” Paige murmurs hesitantly, staring at her feet. The knot in Azzi’s chest is tightened and she feels suffocated by Paige’s words, soft but genuine. The once-vibrant atmosphere of the bar feels muted, with the steady bass of the music fading into the background. Azzi doesn’t respond immediately, her fingers curling around the rim of her shot glass as if it could anchor her. The apology hangs between them, fragile yet heavy, and Azzi can only hear the erratic drumming of her own heart.

“What are you sorry for, Paige?” her voice is quiet but laced with sharpness. Her eyes drift to the pair of blue eyes, once so lively and full of a sparkle that has dulled out and left an almost deserted shell.

Paige flinches at her tone, but she presses on, her voice soft and cautious. “For, well, everything,” she mutters under her breath, a lonely tear sliding down her smooth cheek. Azzi instinctively reaches over to caress the tear off of her face. At first, Paige flinches at the feeling of her warm hand but leans into her touch. The blonde finally lifts her gaze, meeting the brunette’s. The expression in her eyes–equal parts regret and vulnerability–knocks the wind out of Azzi. It was once the expression that was used to unravel the thread that tied Azzi’s defenses to her heart together, but it’s now the one that feels like a knife twisting in an old wound.

The silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating as Azzi retracts her hand, her fingers tingling with the familiar warmth of Paige’s skin. She hadn’t meant for her defenses to slip, but the sight of Paige’s tear stirred something she thought she’d buried.

“Azzi?”

“Yeah, Paige?”

“Does he treat you well?” Azzi’s eyes widen and her body stiffens before she can nurse her expressions into a feigned happiness. Paige doesn’t miss the way her body reacts and her gaze softens with a knowing expression. The question is simple with no ill intention, but Paige’s gentle gaze stays locked to hers.

“Of course, he does,” her voice too light, too practiced. Paige’s eyebrows raise slightly in suspicion, but she doesn’t say anything.

Paige tilts her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Good to you,” she repeats softly, almost as if she’s testing the words. There’s no accusation, only quiet observation, but it feels like she’s shining a spotlight on all of Azzi’s cracks.

Azzi shifts in her seat. “Why do you care, Paige?” she finally asks, her voice harsher than intended. She meets Paige’s eyes, and the question lingers in the space between them; jagged, heavy, and raw.

Paige doesn’t flinch and instead holds Azzi’s gaze, her blue eyes shimmering with raw emotion that she doesn’t bother to hide. “Because I care about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “And, I know you, Az. I know when you’re lying.” Azzi feels her throat tighten, and she swallows hard. The urge to protect herself flares up, but she forces it down. She stares at the amber liquid in her glass instead as if it holds the answers that she doesn’t want to face.

When she lifts her head up, Paige leans in closer, bridging the distance between them. “You deserve better. You deserve to be happy.” Azzi’s chest aches as she opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Just then, the bell of the bar door rings aggressively. All eyes in the bar turn to the olive-skinned man with unruly hair and red eyes standing in the doorway.

“Azzi, where are you?” Charles slurs while scanning the area like a predator hunting for its prey. Next to Paige, Azzi’s breathing slows and her body goes rigid. She glances at Paige, panic in her eyes. “Azzi…” Before he can continue, Paige steps firmly between them. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Paige says sharply, her tone slicing through the tense air. Charles lets out a dry and humorless laugh, his lips curling into a sinister sneer. “And who the hell are you to tell me that? Her ex? Thought you’d be out of the picture by now.” When Paige’s jaw tightens, he knows he’s struck a nerve. He moves closer to her, jabbing a shaky finger into her chest. “She never fucking cared about you. Drop it.”

Azzi sucks in a sharp breath and sinks her teeth into her upper lip as she closes her eyes. Fuck, she really didn’t want this. Paige’s jaw tightened and her hands clenched into fists by her sides. She knows she’s strong enough to take him on. “I’m someone who actually gives a damn about your fucking fiancée,” she sneers.

Charles chuckles mockingly, staggering forward until his booze-heavy breath fanned over Paige’s face. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“I know enough,” Paige snapped. Azzi’s head swam as she watched the confrontation unfold, her body frozen between the two people pulling her in opposite directions. Charles glances at the brunette, scowling. “Why don’t you back off, princess? This is gonna get messy real fast.”

Before Azzi could respond, a sickening crunch split the thick air between Charles and Paige. Startled, Azzi sits up and lets out a shriek. A silhouette of olive skin and blood stumbles and falls backward. Paige stands at the door, unscathed. Relief courses through Azzi’s veins until she notices the tears streaking down the blonde’s cheeks and her uneasy breathing.

“Agh, fuck!” Charles screams, grabbing his nose. “Fuck, you’re a fucking maniac!”

Azzi doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s suddenly hit by the warm, humid air of the Los Angeles night as she’s being dragged by Paige’s cool, but secure grip on her wrist. The noise of the bar fades into a distant hum, and she’s only half aware of the world around her as she’s pulled into the quiet of the night.

Her feet stumble to keep up with Paige’s determined stride, her brain still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions. The feeling of Paige’s hand around her wrist is grounding, a tether in the uncertainty of her future. They don’t stop walking until they reach the car, the cool metal clicking open. Azzi doesn’t protest; she lets herself be guided into the passenger seat where Paige’s familiar rosy scent envelopes her.

Paige doesn’t say anything at first while she slides into the driver’s seat as they ride in an unusual silence. It’s not suffocating, but raw and uncertain. Azzi finally glances at Paige, her shoulders slumped as she grips the wheel so hard that her knuckles are white and bleeding from the encounter in the bar.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige glances at her, her face soft yet unreadable. “I care about you, Az. I won’t let you keep pretending everything is fine.” Azzi doesn’t respond right away as she lets the words settle in her chest. They stir up the guilt that lingers from their last encounter 3 years ago. But she lets herself relax in the quiet of the night as the city lights flicker past.

For the first time since she got to the city, Azzi lets herself breathe.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #roses fic #pazzi fics #Spotify

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keeryhours · 27 days ago

Text

the needle and the damage done - chapter two

Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

The band stages an intervention.

Warnings:

(18+), heavy drug use (heroin, cocaine), addiction, strung out Eddie, pregnancy, mention of miscarriage

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N:

Finally chapter 2! Thanks so much for reading!

—

Eddie awoke feeling like he’d been hit by a truck.

He didn’t even know where he was at first. He was sitting on a hard floor, slumped against a wall. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was and what he’d done - a usual occurrence for him. He wasn’t at home, that was for sure. He wasn’t at his dealer’s house, because this bathroom was actually clean and nice. It didn’t click until he saw the hand towels hanging on the wall, red embroidered E’s on them.

Oh. Gareth’s guest bathroom.

He looked around. The used syringe had fallen onto the floor next to him, along with the tourniquet. He must have passed out right after. His little baggie of smack also laid on the tiled floor, the white powder slightly spilling from the top. Eddie was struck by panic when he realized, scooping as much of it as possible back into the bag. Great job, Eddie, you fucking loser, he thought to himself. He had plenty of money, sure, but he still wasn’t about to waste any.

His kit was open on the floor, supplies spilling out. He must have been desperate for a fix. His cotton balls, syringes, alcohol wipes, tin foil and spoon were half on the floor. He’d have to throw some of it out.

Eddie debated on doing another shot. He had some coke in his pocket, he remembered; he could do a speedball. The idea excited him, made him feel alive. He had pulled the drugs from his pocket and was about to start measuring his dose when a loud banging came from the door. He jumped, nearly dropping his stuff, which immediately made him even more irritated than he was from the withdrawals that were already starting.

“What?” Eddie called through the door.

“Eddie, man, come out of there,” Gareth’s voice traveled through the door. “The guys are here. We wanna talk to you.”

Eddie’s head thudded back against the wall. “Can it wait, man? I’m kinda busy.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Eddie, come out.”

He cursed under his breath, shoving everything back into his kit. He quickly pushed the box under the sink where hopefully no one would look. “Yeah, okay. Give me a minute.”

Eddie stood, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked like absolute hell. Like he hadn’t showered or brushed his hair in days, and had been wearing the same clothes. Those things were probably all true. He ran his fingers through his curls, working out some tangles and straightening his dirty clothes before he opened the bathroom door.

“Yeah?”

Gareth took in his appearance, a look of…pity? on his face. He leaned over to look behind Eddie, like he was looking for something.

“What?” Eddie asked again, the irritation clear in his voice.

“The guys are here, we all want to talk to you,” Gareth repeated. “They’re out in the living room. Come out and talk to us.”

Gareth didn’t give him a choice as he turned and walked away. Eddie sighed, but followed behind him to the main room of the large house. He found Jeff and Grant sitting on the couch, Gareth standing. Gareth gestured for Eddie to sit in the chair.

Eddie was suspicious. Everyone was looking at him so seriously. He felt like a child that was about to be scolded. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Sit down, Eddie,” Jeff said this time.

Eddie looked at Jeff, incredulous. He was a grown ass 37 year old man. “What is this?”

“Just sit down, man,” Grant said.

Eddie looked at each of his (former) bandmates with his brows furrowed, but finally sat down in the chair. He waited for someone to speak. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Look,” Gareth started. “You know I love you. You know we all love you. But this is out of hand.”

Eddie shook his head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

They all looked at him, that stupid pitying look on each of their faces. It made Eddie uncomfortable. He didn’t like this. Gareth took a deep breath.

“Eddie, you’re ruining your life with these drugs. We’re tired of watching our best friend slowly kill himself. And frankly, I’m tired of you sleeping on my couch and shooting up in my bathroom. As much as me and Roz both love you, we can’t let you keep doing this.”

Eddie looked at his best friend with wide eyes. Was this really happening? He opened his mouth to speak, but Grant spoke first.

“What’s going on, Eddie? This isn’t the guy we know and love,” he said.

Eddie scoffed. “Nothings going on. I’m fine.”

“Then why aren’t you home with your family?” Gareth asked, exasperated. “Why are you sleeping in my den? You have a wife and three amazing kids. Don’t you want to be at home with them?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute. Then, finally, “Four,” he muttered under his breath.

His three friends’ eyes went wide. “What?” Jeff asked.

“Four,” Eddie said again, looking down at his hands as he twisted one of his rings around his finger. “She’s…pregnant again.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. After a minute, Gareth rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Ed.”

Eddie had never felt so guilty in his life. The thought of you, his daughters, and his unborn child made him feel like the worst man to ever live. He had abandoned you all, and he knew it. But he still found his fingers itching for the drugs hidden in the bathroom.

“You know your wife and kids miss you,” Jeff said. “Those girls don’t understand why you’re not home. They don’t understand when you come home all strung out. Do you ever think about that?”

That made Eddie feel even worse. He didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Gareth added, “You know Roz talks to her all the time. She misses you. The girls ask about you constantly. And, honestly Ed, I miss my best friend. The Eddie Munson who was so full of life, who loved music and loved his family and friends more than anything.”

“You have so much to live for,” Grant said. “It doesn’t make any sense why you’re doing this to yourself. Your youngest is what, 3? And now you have another on the way? Come on, man. You’re really gonna let those kids grow up without a father?”

The words hit Eddie like a punch to the chest. He loved his girls fiercely - that included you. You were the love of his life. Always had been, always would be. And now he had gotten you pregnant again, and here he was at Gareth’s house getting high all day.

“We know she gave you an ultimatum,” Jeff said. “But you’re still here doing the same old thing.”

Eddie felt horrible. It was all true. He was a mess, and he did abandon you and his kids. But god, what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just stop. Not at this point. Every time he stopped, even just for a day, he got so unbearably sick, sweating and his body aching.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie finally responded. “I can’t just stop.”

“We never said it was simple,” Gareth said, the pity evident in his voice. Eddie thinks that made it worse. “It’s not going to be easy at all. But we’re all here for you, man. And I know your wife would be right by your side the entire time if you decide to get clean. You just have to commit and put in the effort.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, man.”

“What do we not get?” Jeff asked, sounding irritated now. “We get it, Ed. We get that you’re killing yourself with fucking drugs while you have so much to live for. We get that you ruined the band because you liked getting high too fucking much. We get that the drugs are the most important fucking thing to you and you chose them over everything else.”

“Dont fucking talk to me like that,” Eddie said, getting more upset by the minute. “You don’t know fucking anything.”

“We know more than you think we do,” Grant chimed in.

Eddie looked at his friends in shock. He could not believe this was happening. He could not believe his friends were staging a fucking intervention.

“This is bullshit,” Eddie said, standing from his chair. “Fucking bullshit.” He grabbed his bag from next to the couch and stormed out of the living room, back to the guest bathroom. He gathered his soaps and toothbrush and toothpaste, making sure to grab his kit from under the sink and shove it into the bag. He walked back out into the room, bag slung over his shoulder, heading for the front door. “Fuck all of you.”

“Eddie, where are you going?” Gareth asked, throwing his hands up in the air. He was tired. “You have nowhere else to go.”

Eddie didn’t answer. He stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. He headed to his car, tossing the bag into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s seat.

He needed a fix bad. He was worked up from the confrontation, and the withdrawals were starting to really kick in. He pushed his curly hair out of his sweaty face with a shaking hand. He needed to get out of here.

Eddie pulled out of the driveway, driving the familiar path to his dealer’s apartment.

—

“Evie, can you pick up some of your barbies, honey?” You asked, stepping around the minefield of toys with Ivy on your hip. She was leaning on your shoulder, drowsy and ready for her nap.

“Okay,” Evie said with a dramatic sigh, but she moved to do as she was asked. She was a good kid, always did what she was told and never broke the rules. She had always been your little angel.

“Rhi?” You called, seeing her mess all over the kitchen table. “Please come clean up your art supplies! Remember when you move onto a new activity, put the old one away.”

Rhiannon groaned, stomping into the room with all her sass. “I was going to come back to it!”

“Okay, then you can take it back out when you do,” you said, not willing to argue with the 6 year old right now. You honestly were emotionally drained. Everything with Eddie had been taking a toll on you mentally and physically. Despite the harsh ultimatum you had given him, you were constantly thinking of him, missing him.

Rhiannon cleaned up her papers, paints, and markers, grumbling under her breath. You left the two older girls and walked into Ivy’s bedroom, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and laying her down in her toddler bed for a nap. The small girl rolled right over and went to sleep.

Back in the living room, the two sisters were fighting over the remote, grabbing it from each other, holding it out of reach, and pushing one another.

“What is going on??” You asked in your best Mom Voice.

“I want to watch Spy Kids!” Rhiannon huffed, turning to you with her hands on her hips. “And I had the remote first.”

“Not true!” Evie yelled. “And I want to watch Howl’s Moving Castle!”

You felt a headache coming on. You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. “Okay, how about this. If you can’t agree, neither of you get the remote, and I pick the movie.”

Both girls groaned. “You always pick the boring old movies!” Rhiannon whined.

“Yeah!” Evie agreed.

“Then you better find something to agree on,” you said. The girls went back to bickering as you headed towards the kitchen, but you were stopped by a soft knocking at the door. You could tell who it was based on the fact they knew it was Ivy’s naptime.

You opened the front door to the sight of your best friend and Gareth’s wife, Rozalyn. You nearly burst into tears the second you saw her. She could tell, immediately reaching for you.

You let her embrace you, laying your head on her shoulder and letting the tears fall. She held you, rubbing your back and caressing your hair soothingly.

“It’s alright, babe,” she said softly. “Let it out.”

After you had cried on her shoulder for a few minutes, you stood back up, sniffling and wiping your eyes with your hand. “Sorry. That’s been a long time coming.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Roz said. “I’m your best friend. It’s what I’m here for.”

She followed you into the house. Back in the living room, Evie and Rhiannon had decided on The Haunted Mansion. They looked up as you walked in.

“Auntie Woz!” They both exclaimed, jumping up to tackle your friend with hugs. She laughed, hugging them back tightly. Her heart had been broken for the girls, having to be without their dad, but she was relieved to see they were doing okay.

Once the girls had jumped back onto the couch to watch their movie, you and Roz moved into the kitchen for some privacy. You made both of you some hot tea, handing Roz her mug when you were done.

“How are you holding up?” Roz asked, taking a sip of her hot drink.

“I’m…” you sighed. “I’m holding on, you know? It’s hard. The girls are a handful. They miss their dad. I miss their dad.”

Roz looked at you sympathetically, but not in the condescending kind of way you got from paparazzi and media. “I can imagine.”

“How is he?” You asked nervously, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer. You fiddled with one of your nails nervously.

“He…” Roz sighed. “The guys staged an intervention today.”

Your head snapped up to look in her direction. “Really? How did that go?”

Roz’s melancholy expression was enough of an answer even before she opened her mouth. “Not great. He got upset and stormed out. We don’t know where he went.”

You let out a rush of air, covering your face with your hands as you tried not to cry again. This was all so hard already, but you had been extra emotional with the added hormones from the pregnancy. Roz gently rubbed your arm as you calmed yourself. Once you were sure you weren’t going to burst into tears, you lowered your hands again. “He has nowhere else to go. Wherever he went, it couldn’t be good.”

Roz pursed her lips as she looked at you. “Yeah. I know.”

You sighed, hand absentmindedly moving to rub your stomach, the nonexistent baby bump. You already loved this new little one so much, you just wished Eddie was here. He was always so attentive during your pregnancies, and he loved seeing you pregnant, loved rubbing the belly and talking to his unborn child. That wouldn’t happen this time or ever again, you thought to yourself.

Roz didn’t miss the gesture. She eyed you suspiciously. “Babe…are you…?”

Your eyes darted to hers. You realized what you’d done immediately, a flush creeping into your skin. “Yeah. I’m 6 weeks.”

Roz’s eyes went wide. “Another one??”

You busted out laughing at that. “Oh my god. Yeah, another one.”

“Damn, girl. Three wasn’t enough?”

You laughed even harder. Roz and Gareth didn’t have any kids, didn’t want any, but they both loved your and Eddie’s girls with their whole hearts. “It was a surprise.”

“I’m getting you a box of condoms for your birthday.”

You shoved Roz in the shoulder, making her laugh, too. Things felt normal for the first time in months.

“Do the girls know?” She asked.

“I was waiting until I’m a little farther along,” you said. “Just in case something happens, you know?”

Roz nodded. She understood. You and Eddie had had a miscarriage in the past before Ivy was born, and it was really rough on you both and the girls. You still thought of it sometimes, what could have been if that baby had been born. This would have been baby number five in that case.

The thought of five kids made your head spin. Hell, even four was a lot to wrap your mind around.

You sat with your friend in the kitchen and talked for a few hours. It really did make you feel better. Roz always knew exactly what to say. And it had been so long since you had someone you could talk to about Eddie’s problems. At some point Ivy woke up, so you grabbed her from her crib and got her set up with a snack.

“It’s just…” you sighed, speaking quietly so Ivy wouldn’t overhear. “Like, I can’t explain what it’s like to watch the man you love turn into a stranger.” You wiped the tears away. “He was also so vibrant and fun. And this shit took that away. He’s not the same.”

Roz looked heartbroken for you. “Babe…”

“If a fucking nightmare. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I just want my Eddie back.”

She listened to you vent as much as you needed to. It felt good to get it off your chest. You just wished your words could bring your husband back.

When Roz left, it was much later. You gave your friend a hug at the door, thanking her for coming and wishing her a safe drive home. By the time dinner was made and eaten, the sun had gone down and it was nearing bedtime.

Everyone got baths (except for Evie, who now preferred a shower). You got Rhiannon and Ivy dressed in their pajamas. You gave Evie and Rhiannon their goodnight kisses and tucked them into bed, then took Ivy to her room. You laid her in her toddler bed, reading a few bedtime stories and watching as she slowly started dozing off. You gave her a goodnight kiss on the top of the head then snuck out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.

This was the loneliest part of the night without Eddie. Typically if you had a night to yourself you would reach for a little wine, but obviously that wasn’t an option. You sat on the couch and turned the TV on, flipping to a rerun of House. You always liked that show.

As you watched, you started getting drowsy. You had just dozed off when you heard a pounding at your door. You jolted awake, noticing it had started pouring rain outside. You cautiously walked to the door, pulling it open and seeing a very pathetic looking, very wet Eddie in a heap on your porch.

You threw the door open wider. “Eddie, what the hell?”

Eddie was shivering. He looked like hell, looking up at you with big sad brown eyes. “Baby,” he said, his voice weak. It broke your heart.

“What’s going on? Where have you been? Roz said you left.”

“I…” He looked like he was struggling to find words. “I went to my dealer’s and got high, okay? But I realized something. I’m done. I’m done with all of this. I want you and the girls and the baby. I want to get clean, I want to go to rehab.”

Those were the words you’d been longing to hear for so long. You felt immense relief, reaching for Eddie and helping him up and into the house. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up. We’ll find a rehab in the morning, we’ll get you help.”

Eddie clung to you like a scared child as you brought him inside. He was shaking, and you weren’t sure if the wetness was only from the rain or if he was sweating, too. You had seen Eddie withdrawing enough times to know it was kicking in. He was high so often that it never took long.

You helped him bathe and got him set up in bed. You crawled in afterwards, wrapping your arms around his middle and holding him close, like he so often did to you. You were going to get through this. You were going to call rehabs in the morning and find Eddie the best one available. It was going to be okay.

You just hoped he was serious this time.

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