#kind of breaking the rules with that last one but THEY COME AS A PACK THEY SHOULDNT BE SEPARATED 🥺🥺🥺

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: You catch the eyes of the last person you would expect

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: Working on Doctor´s treatment part 2, if you have any ideas, requests, questions message me!

Nevermore academy, education soil for creatures of kinds you would never even dream of. But preferred by many, you could hear about them as Outcasts. No human with a healthy mind would ever think about walking by their land or the woods. Vampires, werewolves, sirens, gorgons,... you name it. They guarantee you don´t want to mess with them.

Clearly, that´s from a human´s perspective.

As for Outcasts themselves, they don´t feel that way about them. Of course, the dirty looks that are shot their way everytime they step into the Jericho make them a little cheerless, but that wasn´t their image. That is what people created in their heads based on actions and incidents where they weren´t even present.

Wednesday was skeptical about this school, her parents used to go there for a couple of years but she isn´t like them. Or at least that is what she felt and she was sure of it. Breaking rules and always be right is like her second name and looking just at the gate of the Nevermore she knew, this school wouldn´t be any different than others. It won´t hold her inside for too long. And her roommate already persuaded her about her plants as soon as she stepped into the dorm.

The werewolf girl showed her around and explained the system of the school. The girl must admit, it was catching her attention, being around outcasts was indeed more enjoyable than around people, even though sometimes outcasts were more predictable than humans. But still, this reason wasn´t big enough to make her stay.

She wanted to escape and the girl had it planned to the last dot. Packing her things, going to the festival, and meeting up with Tyler. He would then drive her far far away. And it would have gone like this if Rowan didn´t touch her. The vision made her follow him, Wednesday went to warn him about the danger that waits on him in the trees. It turned out that he was the danger waiting for her.

And the thing she witnessed... Wednesday was sure what she saw was real, that it wasn´t just a figment of the imagination. He said that she would destroy the school and everyone in it. But the strange part was that everyone kept declining that as if she didn´t see him all bloody yelling in agony. And that made her stay.

Wednesday was now sitting in Botanical Science class. Unfortunately, she needed to sit next to Xavier who was trying to impress her with his ability. She wasn´t scared of the spiders, otherwise, she was drawn to creatures like this. The spider was slowly coming her way and now everyone was watching the interaction, waiting for the girl´s response.

On the millisecond the annoyed face appeared on Wednesday´s face as she went to slam the fake eight-legged animal but was stopped by a blue flame that was shot straight to the spider. Everyone knew who’s the fire was. You were just sitting there a couple of tables from them looking at the Xavier with an unimpressed look on your face as you held up one finger with the blue fire above. Then the fire suddenly disappeared and you went back to doing your work.

The students around the school knew you, you were unique and a lot of them wished they could do what you can. You hated that, everyone only wanted the power but nobody saw the background of it. Even though they were used to your power, it didn´t stop them from being in awe every time.

The goth girl saw you a couple of times around, she didn´t know under what category of outcasts you belong. Enid only said that you weren´t what most of them were, nothing more. And her roommate wanted but even the biggest gossip girl around the school knew barely minimum about you.

Wednesday shot her eyes at you without moving her head, slowly scanning you. She must say she didn´t expect that. This was the first time she had ever seen something like that. You shot the ball of fire straight at the fake spider and burned it into the ash in seconds, the spider stood zero chance against the fire. It didn´t touch Wednesday but she sure could feel the hotness of the flame.

„Thank you Y/N. Well it looks like Wednesday wasn´t really mesmerized by your skills Xavier.“ Mrs. Thornhill commented and went back to teaching. The boy only put his eyebrows together as he looked at you and then faced the other side of his seatmate in embarrassment. The class laughed under their breaths at the sight of Xavier’s sulking after failing to impress their new classmate.

After the class, Y/N took her books and started to walk away. She isn´t much social person and she doesn´t care about it. The girl likes it better on her own, it feels calmer that way. Y/N only talks when it´s needed, so with her teachers, parents, or her only friend in the school. She doesn´t even have a roommate which is like a win to her.

„Next time your rescue isn´t needed.“

Y/N turned around to the voice and saw a girl who sat with Xavier. She knew of course who she was, she was the talk of the week of course. This was the first time she had seen her from this close, or almost close. It was clear Wednesday doesn´t like crossing the personal barrier between two bodies. But even from this apart Y/N could notice her deep brown eyes which were staring straight into hers and barely seen freckles across her face.

The taller girl only nodded, breaking the eye contact, and walked away from the girl. Wednesday kept looking at your fading figure in the hallway till she could hear tough steps approaching her.

„She caught your eye, huh?“ Enid smirked at her new roommate as she leaned carefully so as not to touch her. „I can´t blame you, she´s really something.“ Enid sighed dreamely at the thought of you and Wednesday now looked at the girl with a slightly disgusted face before turning around to leave.

„Leave these comments to yourself.“ Enid only laughed at her as she started to follow her to their next class.

Wednesday kept thinking about you almost the whole day. More like about your ability. Hate to admit it but it was interesting. Enid said you aren’t wich or some magician that you can just control fire, or more like it´s just coming out of you.

When Y/N is not around they call her a Dragon of Nevermore or just a Dragon, they know better not to call her that when she is near, the girl doesn´t like that. And when she´s somewhere around they don´t talk about her so she wouldn´t hear, for their own safety.

Now was Wednesday´s writing time and she just kept sitting there staring blankly at the empty page. She wanted to continue with her new book but her mind went back to the blue flame every time. She sighed in frustration and went to her bed. Thing saw her thinking hard, she had something in her mind and he was glad that something ripped the thoughts of leaving this school away.

Students were now sitting outside, enjoying food and chatting with each other. Wednesday saw her roommate eating and talking loudly with her vampire friend and a couple of others. She wasn´t a fan of a lot of people but she also couldn´t care less if the attention wasn´t placed on her. She was scanning the pentagon looking for a place to sit. Preferably alone. The girl felt a soft tap on her black boot, there was a Thing facing her.

„What are you doing? You want to be seen by somebody?“ Wednesday hissed at him, trying not to look suspicious. Thing only pointed his finger somewhere. She looked up from him in the direction and found you sitting by the table on your own, quietly eating while looking down at your plate.

Wednesday sighed and made her way to you. She didn´t know why, her mind started to recalculate her options of where to sit. And understandably you were the safest option, she knew you wouldn’t try to talk to her.

And so it was like that. You barely looked at who sat beside you, Wednesday somehow felt like you could feel that it was her, that´s why you didn´t need to look at the new intruder. Students looked their way, now silently watching the invisible interaction between the two of you, looking for any change of behavior they were used to seeing from both of you. But nothing. You just sat there next to each other eating food, minding your business. The girl felt a soft tap on her boot again, this time only to tease her, Wednesday kicked him away not showing any emotion on her face.

The werewolf girl saw you both sitting next to each other, smiling softly at the image. She liked the idea of both of you together, you would look good. It was clear that you nor she were good at social interaction, and this? This was definitely unexpected. Most of the time when someone wanted to sit with you, you looked at them, not saying anything because it wasn´t even needed. They understand very fast what you meant.

You didn´t shoot Wednesday one look.

„How does your ability work?“ Wednesday asked without looking at your side profile as you chew on your food. You kept your stoic face without any unnecessary muscle work not understanding her question. The girl was slowly getting annoyed by you, it seemed like you ignored her.

Wednesday was getting used to people asking her useless questions or pleasing her attention which she ignored. Sometimes she made savage comments to shut them down. This was the other way around, now she tasted her medicine.

Y/N looked at her scanning her facial expression, why would she want to know about her? Of course, not a single muscle moved but her mind was the opposite, jumping from one thought to another not understanding the girl right now.

The young Addams was getting frustrated at the girl beside her. She wasn´t getting a single thing from her.

„Uhm... I don´t understand.“ Y/N finally said looking around to find something to take her mind off of the conversation and the look she was giving her. She didn´t like talking about that.

„Why is it blue?“ Wednesday of course knew why sometimes flame was a different colour than red. But she wanted to know if you could control it to that part when it changed it’s shade or if it was always like this.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and went to eat again, that action completely thorn off the new girl. Wednesday saw that this was getting nowhere so she let it be, but she will get her answers.

Unconsciously, you just become her new prey.

A couple of days went by since the joining of the new student, and everyone slowly started to come back to their things, forgetting about it. There were still students that liked to get on her nerves but most of them now didn´t mind her. They were quite afraid of the goth girl and she obviously had not a bad word for it.

„Y/N! Hey!“ the cheerful voice greeted you as you slowly approached the construction. This was one of your favorite places to go to. Not a lot of people went to this place so it was always so calm in there. The boy had a beekeeper´s suit on holding some equipment in his hands.

„Hey Eugene, how are the bees?“ The girl asked looking at the thing her friends currently work on. He was the only person who made her comfortable to talk with.

They knew themselves since the boy came. He was shy, he still is but back then it was much more, always looking at the ground, not looking at anyone, minding his business. At first, it was like a nightmare to him, he didn´t want to tell his moms that he had no friends, wanted to save them from being worried so it was better to keep that information to himself.

Minding on his own of course didn´t stop the bullies. Why would it, be right? He had never understood why they acted like that to him, it kept bugging him for a long and to the point when he was afraid to go out of his dorm room.

It was like this until it was Outreach Day, it was his first time to go here and he didn´t know what to expect. Eugene was set to work at Pilgrim World and he found him again. It was much worse this time because no one was around to interrupt them from what they were going to do. Unexpectedly someone came, at first the person was trying to talk them out of it but as the boys started to treat that person too, they got beat up. It was Y/N that came to save him. It was like a dream, the boy saw the tall girl a couple of times at school, he always thought that she looked savage, not caring about things that weren´t important. And he wanted to be like her but his mind wasn´t strong enough to believe in himself.

From that day the girl would keep him company wherever he wanted and like a sibling, you had each other's backs. Y/N was Eugene´s role model, someone he looked up to, his moms were so happy to hear that he had someone like her.

„They are good but they missed you!“ Y/N smiled softly at the short boy´s words. It was true, recently they weren´t spending much time together, but it was nothing serious, they just had separate things to do.

„I missed them too.“ She whispered and looked at the bee´s hive outside the window.

Wednesday was walking in the forest. She had to think about this dreadful place, her dead classmate and her loud roommate made it impossible. She enjoyed walking alone through the dense tree foam. It created a dark atmosphere. A lot of people were afraid of woods, but on Wednesday there was nothing to be scared of, she would walk there even in the darkness. She came by the lake as her boots were taking steps along the stones around. There was an old, wooden dock jutted into the water and the waves were dancing along the gentle wind.

Suddenly she heard something from the other side of the lake. She turned her head to the noise, her hunting instinct was now on looking into the center of the sounds. The girl could see a person standing there, hands together in a praying-like position with their head down. It looked more like they were praying or meditating. Wednesday could see slow breaths based on the small shoulder movements along with the person´s chest.

She took a small step to the front to have a better look at the scene. Suddenly the person turned their face in front of them, one leg moved back making them lean a little. One arm was moving up above their head and the other one was stretched in front of their body. Both hands were slowly turned into fists. And what happened next made Wednesday stand in awe.

The fire splutters out of one of the hands into the wind. The person took a step and jumped up turning their body high in the air kicking with their leg along with the hot flame. When they came down they turned their back around now jumping backward landing on their hands as they bounced back into the feet before doing a backflip layout. The blue fire was spewing all around, changing directions like it was listening to your body.

It was absolutely known who it was. You were the only one with the ability to control a blue fire. Wednesday couldn´t tear her gaze away from you. In situations like this, it was hard not to show an interest. The young Addams wasn´t someone who pretends.

The waves of water were lazily moving like a rhythmic melody along with your movements. As she was now standing there from the other side of the water, looking at you almost without blinking, it created the feeling of a border. As if the lake was a boundary separating her and you, separating her body from the unknown, from things that she wanted to know about but didn´t know how to move, how to make the step. So desperate to explore the untouched land.

It has now been a couple of days, the case was moving painfully slowly. Wednesday shared some evidence with the sheriff´s son and Enid. The girl didn´t like getting a lot of people into her soup but at the same time, she wanted others thoughts, even if it didn´t matter to her.

Thing has been quite a handful even with his remarks on someone. The young Addams have been sitting with you every lunch break, without a single word or glance. Just sitting there, quietly eating not bothering each other. Enid and Thing were great at getting on her nerves by teasing her about it.

Why they were like that? Wednesday didn´t know, she was only sitting with you at lunch, without any interaction at all.

Since that time in the forest, she didn´t see you use your fire. You barely use it. A lot of students were shocked when you burned that spider-like they weren´t used to seeing that, and now Wednesday knew.

They are currently having a class, she and Enid were sitting together paying attention, or at least one of them.

„Hey.“ Enid whispered leaning her head slowly into her classmate's direction. „Do you know where is Y/N?“

„How am I supposed to know the answer?“ Wednesday answered with a low voice, taking notes on the paper.

„Well, you are pretty close so I thought you would know.“ Enid shot her a quick glance before facing the teacher again as if she was listening this whole time.

Wednesday stopped her writing and turned to her roommate. „We aren´t close one bit. Just because we are sitting together doesn´t mean we are close.“ Her gaze was sharp looking straight at the side profile of the girl next to her. Enid didn´t mind her, she was now used to Wednesday´s behaviour so she only smirked.

After the class, she went to Eugene. Now as a member of hummers, she needed to spend some time also in the hives. She owned him for having her back at times when she went to investigate. He was exactly like her brother Pugsley, defenseless against the pitfalls in the world. Somewhere inside of her, she grew a soft spot for him but she didn´t want to accept it. Like always.

„Hey Wednesday, would you mind if we left earlier today? My friend is sick and I need to bring her some medicine.“

Her eyes were enough for her to see that her only friend of him was Y/N. Eugene didn´t talk about you a lot, only sometimes, like that you are also a member of hummers but nothing more. She could see the two of you sometimes in Jericho, walking around or after classes, like two siblings.

But now she knew the reason for your absence.

Y/N was lying on her stomach with a pillow over her head. Even though her room was already dark because of the covered windows, it still felt like there was a lot of light. The bed under the girl was like lying on tough ground. The thought of lying on the ground crossed Y/N´s mind a lot of times. Her body was on fire.

It has been like this for a couple of days, only in her room, without any light or social interaction. The only one she could see this awful day was Eugene, he was so sweet. Where would she be without him, only God knows. He brings her food and all the needed medicine. Even though he was trying so hard to help you nothing worked. And it wasn´t his fault.

Because of your ability your body gets too heated up sometimes, most of the time when you use flames too much. That´s why it´s better to train more so you can control it better and at the same time your body heat. But these were the consequences of the success.

No medicine could help, or at least you thought there was nothing. When this happens you are dealing with it just like this, waiting till it stops.

The knocking on the door tore you away from thinking about this uncomfortable position your body was put into. You just wanted to ignore it, even if it was Eugene but another knocking was heard, this time more louder than the first time. It was too much and your head started to spin around the room as soon as you got up.

Slowly opening the door, leaning against the door frame. You were waiting for Eugene with the food in his hands, you were waiting for Principal Weems with her questions about your absence, and you were waiting for Thornhill with the class work you missed.

What you weren´t waiting for was Wednesday Addams standing right in front of you with a bag around her shoulder.

She was looking at you with her signature stare, staring right at your face. She noticed your fallen eyes, bags under them, and lowered shoulders.

„You look horrible.“ That was her first word as soon as she saw her classmate. It was nothing like compared to the first day she saw you.

„Appreciate it.“ Y/N whispered back at her, not moving a single muscle in her body. The taller girl thought that maybe Wednesday made a mistake and she didn´t want to go into your room. But the Addams never makes a mistake.

She slightly pushed you into the room as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She could feel the heat of your body as she touched your chest in that millisecond. It was too hot and of course, the dark-eyed girl's body was most of the time under the normal temperature of a human body so everything compared to her felt warm. But this was too much, it was like touching a fire with a bare hand.

„What are you-“

„Sit down.“ Wednesday commanded to you, cutting you from sentence and you like a good dog listened to her. You kept your eyes on her the whole time, she went to your table by the wall, pulling up her bag with some things, and she started to do something. You didn´t see what she was doing because the only thing you could see was her back.

Wednesday then turned around to you, holding something like a small cup with some strange liquid in it. You wanted to gag at the smell of it, it didn´t look drinkable.

„Drink it.“ She pushed it even further to your mouth as you only pushed your head back away from it. Was she trying to poison you? You wouldn’t be so surprised, it was Wednesday after all. She was getting frustrated by your childish actions so she took the back of your head and brought you closer to the cup. The taste of it was awful, you just wanted to throw up.

„Swallow it.“ And you did. You could feel it as it went down your throat it was cold but so refreshing after your high temperature.

„Now lay down, you will feel better. Believe me.“

And you did. Lying in that uncomfortable bed, praying to fall asleep quickly.

„It´s because it´s hotter than red. I can’t control it.“ You said with your eyes barely opened. Wednesday kept looking for you to continue. „Blue fire is hotter than red. That´s why it´s like that.“

„I know.“ She whispered back. You don´t remember much of how you fell asleep but before the Hypnos took you away you could see her sitting on your chair looking at you. 

The next day Wednesday was sitting eating her lunch at your table, again without you. She must admit it felt strange but nothing she couldn´t manage to get over.

Suddenly she felt a presence next to her, and the dark-eyed girl slowly turned to the person who dared to sit next to her. Her eyes were met with the person she helped yesterday. She didn´t expect you to recover that quickly, she was guessing you would be fine by tomorrow, but here you are the next day.

„I see you feel better.“ She commented looking at your figure, as if yesterday you weren´t dying from high temperature.

„Yes, thanks to you.“ You still kept looking at her, your eyes were wide staring at her silently thanking her. Wednesday looked at her plate, not giving you another glace, her plate with food was now the most interesting thing.

„You don´t have to thank me.“ You only smiled at her actions, it was cute like she was embarrassed for helping you. You need to pay her back.

A couple of days went by and a lot of things changed. The two girls started to talk more, it was most of the time on the lunch break or sometimes when they caught themselves in hives. They weren´t friends yet but this was a great road to start the friendship between them. Wednesday even told Y/N about her case and her progress from the start.

Y/N was an intelligent, really open-minded person. It was good to have someone like her nearby if the shorter girl needed some opinions. Y/N was always available, she never turned Wednesday down. They spend more and more time together, the young Addams sometimes sits with her in class, or goes to her dorm just to talk or for help, you even told her about your ability more. Wednesday didn´t want to accept it but somewhere deep inside of her she knew, she had grown a soft spot your you

Now it was soon to be Rave´N Dance and you were thinking about it. Going there didn´t even cross your mind in the past, you had no one to go with so every time it came you and Eugene went out and did something. But now it was a little different. Maybe she wouldn´t even go, this didn´t seem like her cup of tea and why would she even go with you? There were a lot of other candidates who would have a bigger chance than you. Or maybe she would say yes, why are you doubting yourself if she didn´t enjoy your presence you wouldn´t be spending so much time together. You need to at least try. And that´s exactly why you were now standing in front of her dorm.

After a soft knock was heard on the door Wednesday did not expect to see you. You were standing before the door a couple of steps back as if you were afraid to disturb the dorm of the two girls. You were wearing your casual clothes, a black oversized hoodie and some big sweatpants, hands behind your back.

„Hey...uhm... I-I´m sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to ask you if...“ you didn´t even look at her, your head was down looking at your shoes. Your voice was low and Wednesday barely caught the sentence that left your lips.

„Y/N you need to talk louder than that, I can´t hear you.“ She just kept looking at you, trying to find the answer by your body language. You were nervous, because of what?

You sighed and turned your head in her direction, looking straight at her face. „I wanted to ask if you would go with me on Rave´N Dance.“

The young Addams for the first time in her life felt like she didn´t know what to say. It was unexpected. Sure it wasn´t like she would decline your offer. She liked you, as a person. You were currently number one closest to her, beside her roommate of course but with Enid it was different.

„Y/N… I already have someone to go with.“

Ouch. Well, it was something you were prepared for but it still hurts a little. Yeah, like she would go with someone like you. God, it was embarrassing.

The taller girl only nodded her head looking everywhere but at Wednesday. She pushed air out of her lungs and slowly pushed her hands from her back. „Y-Yeah okay... don´t need to worry I just thought I would ask.“ You smiled awkwardly and gave her the black rose that was hidden behind your back.

„Here... This is for you.“ You looked into her black eyes, this was the first time you saw her like this, so vulnerable, but only her eyes showed that. „Well I´ll go, you don´t have to feel sorry, I get it.“

She took the flower from your hand as you turned around and started to walk away down the hallway. Her eyes kept watching you till she didn´t see you anymore, her eyes went to the black rose in her hands. It was beautiful.

Wednesday could tell that you were the only person who she ever felt so much emotions because of. And now she felt miserable.

Today was the day of the Rave´N Dance and you were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You wanted to spend some time with Eugene but he had some plans which he didn´t say what it was about so you were just by yourself.

Wednesday wanted to talk to you about it but every time she mentioned it you said it was okay, so she stopped. You didn´t want to know who she went with and if your ego would take it.

The small paper slid under your door, you stood up and took it into your hands. You didn´t know who´s writing was it.

Meet me by the entrance at 9 pm.

-WA

It was sure it wasn´t Wednesday's handwriting. You saw it a couple of times when she was giving you class work which you missed the days of your sickness. But it was her initials because you didn´t know anyone with the WA.

That´s why you came to her dorm looking for answers. You knocked on the door and waited. The note is still in your hands. The dark-eyed girl opened the door, looking at you with a questionable look in her eyes.

„Hey, what brings you here?“

You showed her the note in your hand. „I saw this note, I didn´t know i it was from you or not. You are the only one I know with a name that starts with these initials.“

Wednesday studied the note. It looked like a cheap version of her writing. As if someone was trying to copy her handwriting. It was sure who it was. She´s going to kill him.

Shouldn´t she be preparing? You just noticed her and how she still was wearing casual clothes. The dance started in a couple of hours and she still hadn´t even started.

Wednesday saw in her peripheral vision Thing, he was behind the door giving her thumb up. If he had a face she was sure he would be smiling from ear to ear.

„Yes, it´s from me. I wanted to ask if you would go with me to the Rave´N.“

What?! You were shocked, she wanted to go with you? But, but...

„But you said you are already going with someone?“ Wednesday leaned her head a little to the side, not meeting your eyes.

„Yes but something changed.“ She was still facing the other way but it took you too long to answer to she looked back at you with raising an eyebrow. „Well? Would you go with me?“ You nodded with your head.

„Great, meet me down at nine.“

And after that, you ran as fast as you could.

Wednesday closed the door and looked at Thing with dark eyes, he ran under the bed to hide from her. She just sighed and looked at the rose standing in the jar with a water on her table. She wasn’t really mad.

Your hands were shaking and your body felt hot. What were the main two things you could sense at that moment? You were standing exactly where Wednesday told you to, coming a bit earlier because it´s better than late and you could only imagine what would Wednesday do if you came late.

Looking around the passing by students somewhere double looking to make sure it was you. It was the first time they saw you in formal clothes like this. You didn´t feel very comfortable with all the glares and on top of that those tight clothes.

These things were forgotten at the same time as Wednesday came down. She was wearing a dark black dress and her hair was done perfectly. She looked beautiful, like always. You were glad that you were matching even though you didn´t talk about your clothes. You were also wearing all black.

„Hey.“ She gently greeted you as she came to you. „Are you ready?“

You nodded at her smiling softly, you offered her your arm, didn´t know if she would take it but to your surprise she did. And just like just like that you walked to the ball room. As soon as you stepped in everyone´s eyes were on both of you. It was shocking, sure a lot of people saw you these days together, but you were almost the same. But they didn´t expect to see either of you on Nevermore ball.

Enid was smirking at the two of you, glad it was you instead of Xavier. It was her plan after all and with a little help from Thing it became real.

The two of you decided to drink something and as you were standing there chatting a little with Enid, you saw Xavier´s glarings. Why is he staring at you like that? You didn´t break the eye contact, not letting him win. The dark-eyed girl saw you and took you by your hand.

„Come.“ She was really gentle that night, like a whole new person. But only you could catch that, she didn´t let anyone else see but you.

And you were having fun dancing around, chatting, and drinking. It was so refreshing, you didn´t have this much fun in a long time.

„Thank you for going with me.“ You said as she had her hands around your neck slowly dancing to the song. She kept looking at you with wide eyes. This was the second time you saw her eyes like this, the first time was a couple of days ago when you came to ask her to the dance.

This was the first time you were close like this, your hands around her slim waist and her around your neck. Looking at each other, to others around it looked like you were talking with your eyes. Your body was too hot compated to hers.

Wednesday’s heart was cold, that’s was people around her said and they weren’t far from the truth. But now as she stands infront of you and you are looking at her and holding her like she’s the only one in the world… her heart warmed.

„No need for that. I would do it twice.“ Wednesday said before she smiled gently at you.

[todorokies]

RUMOR HAS IT - suguru geto

✩࿐ the streets of london have now been considered a danger for citizens when a blood hunger vampire prowls looking for their next lady in waiting . . .

contents: very suggestive, fem!reader, vampire!geto, geto is bewitched by you(r blood), nanami cameo, nineteenth century gothic victorian era, this leans towards the thriller side, reader is a bit naive, a wee bit of manipulation, blood drinking, usage of ‘m’lady’, inspired by the song ‘rumor has it’ by adele & this tweet, 2.5k words

a/n: there is a lot of imagery written !!! i truly hope u all like it, reblogs & supportive feedback is welcome ik the wc is a lot but pls bare with me :”) . . . apart of @kentopedia’s ‘love through the ages’ collab

the sun has begun to shift into its everlasting transition of casting soft orange hues of light that are softly entangled with a dark shade of blue that covers up above. the moon had tucked its companion away for the time being as it began to come into view.

the current state of main street however didn’t reflect the tranquillity of peace; the town clock had loudly reverberated alerting the public of the danger that would soon lurk.

citizens both young and old trampled out of buildings leaving a simple gust of wind in their wake to reach their residences.

a curfew had recently been implemented by the town council in order to reduce the sudden influx —dubbed as animal attacks— of women being found lifeless on the cold streets, with their blood being completely drained from their bodies.

but alas, the troublesome rumours of the attacks being performed by a person rather than an animal, rattled in, heightening the unpleasantries.

the rotten smell of fear lingers in the air with the pumping adrenaline coursing through the towns folks veins. if the perpetrator weren’t foolish enough, an entire course meal has been presented onto a platter for them.

“staring won’t do you any good if you end up dead.” nanami, your coworker, noted who was packing the last of the bakery’s unsold goods in a bag to be taken home.

you quickly drew away from the windowsill, “doesn’t the site of it all make you miserable. this new curfew has done nothing but made everyone even more frightened.”

nanami’s features softened and pursed his lips in a thin line before sighing. “the curfew is sensible in hindsight, but when rules are enforced people have a sudden urge to break them, mainly to figure out what animal—”

“—or person,” you sharply cut him off which causes his eyebrows to crinkle.

“i mean, let’s face it, what kind of animal leaves two perfectly clean puncture wounds on the neck and abandons the body as it is without any carnage?”

a beat follows before you continue, “this is obviously the work of some mad scientist in town looking to make a name for themselves.”

he sighs, “animal or …person, you shouldn’t be standing here chatting with me about it.”

his eyes twinkle with remorse whilst handing the bag of baked goods over to you, “i could chaperone you to your residence, you do live on the outskirts of town. i deeply worry about your safety.”

you lightheartedly scoff, politely waving off the suggestion. “nonsense kento, i always seem to have luck on my side, the walk home will be uneventful as always.”

he frowns at this.

you can be extraordinarily stubborn at the most inappropriate times.

“besides what would society think once they see an unwed woman getting escorted by the opposite sex. you should hurry home yourself! send my kind regards to yuuji for me.”

you bunch up the detailed lace of your overflowing gown in one hand while holding the brown bag of pastries in the other.

swiftly scurrying off into the abandoned streets, “do take care of yourself!”

“get home safely and hurry before the streetlights turn on!” nanami yells out the door before locking up the establishment and heading on his own way.

the cobblestone beneath your feet painfully ached and crumbled apart with each passing step you took. shutters from other houses forcefully swung open from the wind that picked up overtime, soon a ghastly fog began to move in, hindering some of your vision.

you truthfully dreaded this. nanami’s offer is still mulled in the back of your head, you mentally slap yourself for dismissing a comforting and preferably safer option of returning home.

however, dwelling on the what if’s have never been your cup of tea, instead you attempt to take in the scenery of the town in it’s glory.

the eerie atmosphere reminded you of an agatha christie novel you’ve once read. the fond memory warms you up in the dead of night.

soon your manor appears into view. relief immediately washes over you, a small breath of air exited your lungs.

but then you hear it; an extra set of footsteps a mile or two from behind you that rippled the cement.

too heavy of a stride to be another woman in heels and too human-like to be a four legged animal. with each step you took, they would take on another, almost in sync to throw you off their suspicions.

you felt bare and exposed as the only thing that you could focus on was the tangible breeze rattling your bones, fingers turning numb and losing its feeling. your head buzzed considering the only two options to best handle the situation: continue the venture to your housing or confront the entity.

continuing your journey would result in the mysterious entity gaining knowledge of your location. whereas, standing idly waiting for the perpetrator’s next move would result in you being the newspaper’s front headliner.

you’ve concluded the mental battle with yourself on cutting through the woods and loosing whomever is behind you in the dust.

just as you were about to pick up your feet, a tap by a set of fingers rippled against your shoulder causing you to shriek.

“m’lady, i believe you dropped this.” a sultry voice booms through your ears that belonged to a man so majestic you couldn’t comprehend. your breath staggers while your mouth hang slightly agape.

he was as pale as a lilith in its full bloom but still managed to glisten under the moonlight. monolid eyes sharpened that showcased nothing but intensity and gluttony.

you couldn’t dare away, especially not when his gaze has your flesh burning to the touch as heat pools between your legs, an endless void of lust and mystery.

somehow breaking out of his enchantment, you regain consciousness, blinking away the blurriness and swiftly take the handkerchief he handed to you and stuff it in your dress pocket.

“o-oh, thank you kind sir,” your words heavily slurs past your lips.

his overwhelming aura seemingly switches, presenting more of a laid back approach when speaking to you.

“what’s a dream like you doing roaming the streets at this hour?” he inquired.

it’s almost like whiplash— fear surging from every portion of your body to feeling a sense of ease with his presence around.

your face warms up. subconsciously picking at the skin that surrounds your nail beds. “just trying to make my way home, i had picked up a late shift from—”

“the bakery in town square, correct?”

taking a step, his taller frame leaned a quarter into your personal space suddenly being consumed by his aroma. sweetness mixed with a hint of sandalwood and lavender.

his fingers weakly pranced around a single strand of your hair that had been loose, meticulously swirling it about in a specific way that only pleased him.

only then were you able to come about his long raven locks that were styled in a charming half-do that seemingly blended in with the sinful sombre of the midnight sky.

your pulse amplified, picking up like the speed of lightning. your hands soon began accumulating sweat just by a single question.

despite town square serving the population of two countries bound together, not once have you had the pleasure of encountering this man.

he was far too bewitching to grace the status of a commoner. no, he must be a figure of royalty or at least had rich wealth flowing through his blood, but he showcases no obvious signs of luxury.

just who was this man exactly?

he watches you regain control over your psyche, backing away which lets the strand of hair he possessed on his finger seemingly bounce free.

“enlighten me. how do you possess knowledge of the location of my employment? my eyes have never seen someone of the likes of you before.”

he senses utter hostility from you. the entire cobbled street reeks of your fear. he can practically taste your appetizing disdain on the tip of his tongue.

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth to conceal the withering moan that elicited from his core; you’re unsettled by him which only fuels his erogenous.

he playfully surrenders his hands in the air as if you had just caught him in an obtuse act, “what, pray tell, are you insinuating?”

you scoff, “do you take me for a mockery?” your voice doesn’t waver, eyebrows cinched together with lips into a firm line.

he simply tuts, “only a well put together woman like yourself could gain employment at such a high end bakery that stands in town square. i based such an assumption off my judgement . . . forgive me, m’lady.”

your eyes cautiously scan his face to detect any signs of playfulness that went against his explanation. when none was present, it was your cue to ease up on your suspicions.

with a sharp intake of air, your tense shoulders unwind themselves from your ears as you straighten out your dress trying to knead at any wrinkles.

the bakery in town has built a famous name for itself, being known as one of the most ancient buildings standing tall, as well as offering fresh pastries throughout many wars and battles.

different hierarchies from all across the globe have made it their mission to invest in a trade deal of importing the bakery’s goods in exchange for many benefits.

“then again, you find yourself situated on this street conversing with an utter stranger during after hours. so pray tell, who exactly is the jester here?” he dryly asks.

the warm energy circulating between the two of you came to a sudden halt as the tension quickly grew cold.

his voice is fervent. a barbaric ignorance flows naturally in his tone as if he was challenging you, which is much different than how he addressed your inquiry.

truthfully suguru was growing impatient by the minute. he has worked all of the charms in the book but you still haven’t given him an opening for what he wanted the most. your body, soul and most importantly; your blood.

he salivated at the sight of the minuscule veins on your neck becoming more prominent when your voice raises an obtuse or two.

the excruciating torment of his body thumping with thirst made his head throb. his tongue swirled hungrily around his sharp left fang in anticipation. 

if you had blinked, you would’ve missed how he traveled at the speed of light. a gust of wind swept through the streets as a strong swooshing of air caused the ends of your dress to get caught up in the wake. suddenly, you were face to face again with the mystery man, his nose ever so gently grazing yours, feeling his cold breath onto your lips.

his eyes carefully scans your features, taking notice of the crease between your eyebrows. “you aren’t aware of my name yet you give me your time of day? or rather night that is? i feel honoured.” he purrs.

your heart collapses to your feet. what in god’s name were you doing?

allowing yourself to get seduced by a nameless maniac on the street at the devil’s hour. letting your head get filled to the brim with such deception and trickery. your bread must’ve gone stale and you hadn’t noticed until now how terribly your feet ached from standing for so long.

your brain screamed at you to pick up your feet and dash out of a sickly situation you’ve unfortunately found yourself in. but to no avail your soles stood firmly in place, you pitied yourself for still being under his aphrodisiac.

your eyes sting as tears begin to well up into the base of your waterline. he shushes you by lightly tapping his index fingers against your bottom lip then leans into the shell of your ear, “you were the most naive out of others yet the most challenging one, what is your secret, m’lady?”

the only thing you could muster up in the moment was a faint, “p-please don’t hurt me…”

to that, suguru’s current expression gets replaced by a look of genuine remorse. he smiles fondly, his eyes forming into crescent moons. “you mustn’t worry, i have different plans for you. now be a darling and tilt your head for me.”

his eyes glowed a crimson hue that casted a reflection in your own eyes. his divine string of words compelled you to follow his demand, having no conscious influence over your own actions.

he could see your arteries viciously pumping oxygen. unstable hollow breaths depart from your plump lips.

what a delightful sight you are.

finally, his fangs penetrate your fragile skin causing goosebumps to arise upon impact as angry scarlett red seeps out of the two puncture holes he’d created.

you gasp, your head is frantically bubbling with heat as your knees buckle, static shoots through your joints feeling vibrations all over your body.

he gently cradles the back of your head with one hand using his grip to better his angle on his landscape. drowsiness consumes you whole. feeling yourself slowly slipping into a labyrinth that only the man in front of you has the key to.

your whimpers and soft pants fill the air. your stomach soon coils with a pleasant sensation of pleasure, you’ve truly gone mad as you bite your lip to cover up the choked up moans from the pleasurable aches of pain.

your eyes roll back to the sky, mentally counting the stars until your body decides to shut down what leftover functions it had left.

your eyes softly flutter open, wincing almost immediately from the dim overhead lap that shines directly in your face.

you’re currently lying on top of the broody velvet red loveseat that resided in your manor’s foyer. how you got home is beyond your comprehension.

suddenly the horrific memories of this particular night floods in your head like a tsunami.

that man… his fangs…the blood.

your hand quickly flies towards the area of the wound that resided on your neck, which to your surprise, is covered by a heavily padded gauze that will soon need to be changed once you get up.

who or what brought you home and tended to your wound? was it that man or maybe he had left you on the streets, barely alive when another lost soul roaming at the witching hour took you home.

you spot a glass of water on the floor that had a note taped onto it next to your bagged pastries. you cautiously pick up the glass to hydrate your overly dry throat then carefully peel the paper off the glass to read the note.

the contents of the note reads:

i have seeked high and low for the purest form of life, to find a companion worthy enough to indulge me in this wretched world of misery but yet, you were found from right under my nose.

your purity sings to me like a songbird o’holiest of thee. a crystallized soul patiently waiting for a body to mold.

your blood is as rare as black dahlia, hidden deep within the nooks of clouded nostalgia. your pastel beauty is the cure to my everlasting torment in hell.

i will return for you, my love.

always and forever yours, suguru.

tags: @cawwn @osaemu @yunymphs @megumimania @dollria @maeby-cursed @get0

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[hiraeth-ink]

Could I Be Yours (Joel Miller fic)

Pairing - Joel x Married Female Reader 

Summary - You’ve been married for five years now to your long term man Marcus, but with your dwindling sex life and your marriage on the rocks, you came to an agreement. You're allowed to sleep with other men. The only rules? 1- You have to tell your husband about it. 2- No staying the night, you always leave after sex. And lastly, rule number 3, you can’t sleep with the same man more than once. These rules are in place to avoid feelings blooming, but what happens when you meet Joel, and end up breaking all of the rules? Will it break your marriage too? If faced with a choice between Joel Miller and your husband, who would you choose? 

Warnings - Infidelity/open relationship??, smut, protected p in v, choking, mentions of face slapping, degradation, reader is called a slut a few times, oral (f receiving), squirting, Joel being cocky, 

Word Count - 7.2k

a/n - this is the longest piece I’ve ever written, lmk if anyone wants more, I have plenty of ideas for this story. 

“Did you have fun, baby?” your husband asked as soon as you closed the door to your shared home. He had an excited expression on his face, and was sporting a smirk you’d seen countless times. You’d noticed that whenever you returned home from one of your escapades, he wore the same demeanour. He was calm and collected, but eager to hear your recounting of the events. He wanted to know every detail and was never jealous. This is what he wanted after all, what he suggested. He wanted to know how you got them into bed, how wet you were, how big they were, how many times they brought you to release. And you were more than happy to tell him everything. 

“So much fun, Marcus,” you said while taking a seat next to him on the sofa, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “He was a little quiet though, you know how I want to be praised.���

Marcus lifted your hair from your neck and trailed a path of kisses from behind your ear to your collarbone and asked the question he always did, “Did he make you come?”. 

—-----------------------------------

Your husband was a generous man, generous with his kindness, his money, and his wife. You’d met Marcus in University, he was the sweet, nerdy boy in your English Lit class that eventually asked you on a date. You were together through school and when he got a job opportunity in Austin, you packed everything and moved with him, no questions asked. At the time, you couldn’t imagine building a life with anyone but him, your youth and naivety made it so that you couldn’t imagine living without him at all. And so, after seven years of being together, 5 years of marriage, a dwindling sex life and less time spent together than ever, Marcus suggested the agreement. The agreement in which you sleep with other men and tell Marcus every last detail. The agreement that has three rules; you have to tell Marcus about whenever you sleep with a man; you can’t stay the night with another man and you can’t fuck the same man twice. Marcus claims that this agreement “saved your marriage”. While it may have saved your sex life, it certainly has not saved your marriage. Your husband was a generous man, generous with his kindness, generous with his money, even generous with his wife, but he was no longer generous with his time. You may have been having more sex, but you weren’t spending time together like you used to, you weren’t laughing like you used to, you didn't love him like you used to. 

You weren’t sure how he felt about you, if he still loved you enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you, all you knew was that nothing was how it used to be. In the past, Marcus was loud about his love, his eyes were a clear reflection of the love he held for you.  His love would make itself known, obvious, like road signs popping up constantly on a long drive, something you didn’t have to look for, his love appeared right in front of your eyes. Now you had to look for the road signs, your eyes were squinting to find them. Maybe you’d taken a wrong turn on the road. Maybe you were lost.

—----------------------------

A few days later, Marcus had to go on a work trip away for the weekend, the weekend you were hoping you could spend some quality time together. It had been so long since you’d been able to spend more than a few hours before bed together, and so you had been excited for a whole weekend to spend just the two of you, your bodies entangled together between the sheets, leaving next to no space between you in a hope to rekindle something between you. Your disappointment was evident when he’d told you and so he suggested that you get dressed up, go out and find a man to fuck you senseless for the night and tell him all about it when he got back, and while you wanted Marcus, you weren’t going to say no to that. 

You were apprehensive about the agreement at first, but you soon discovered that there was something you found so enticing about seducing other men. Feeling desired by so many was a feeling you couldn’t describe, especially when your husband was never home, or when he was he just wanted a quick fuck to calm his frustrations, he never cherished you, never took his time with you. 

The sex with Marcus was good, he knew exactly what to do by now. But, there was one more thing you felt that was missing from your sex life. For so long you had wanted him to be a little more dominant, you wanted to be told exactly what to do and when to do it, to be put in your place, be punished, even degraded a little. You’d brought this up but Marcus didn't have it in him, he’d grown nervous when you asked him to choke you, and looked terrified when you had asked him to slap you, so you didn't ask again. The men you’d enjoy one night with were more likely to do these things, but lacked the dominant energy you craved, it was difficult to believe what they were saying, difficult to submit to them in the way you wanted to submit. 

As soon as you walked into the dingy bar you felt you’d made the wrong choice. It was dark, only lit by the lights behind the bar and the small lamps on the larger tables. A country song was playing in the background and although it wasn’t too loud, the lack of people in the bar meant that you could hear every word being sung. You were undoubtedly overdressed, wearing a tight, black dress that left very little to the imagination and high heels that were quickly becoming uncomfortable to walk in. You contemplated turning around and trying another place but decided against it and approached the bar. You ordered a margarita; opting for a stronger option, hoping to feel a buzz sooner rather than later. Looking around, the choice of men in the bar was lacklustre at best. There was a trio of men at a corner booth who looked to be in their sixties at least, a group of boys who looked underage at another corner booth, and three people at the other side of the bar. Two men and one woman. One of the men was facing away from you and was mostly covered by the man next to him, who was standing up, animatedly talking to a blonde woman. The man you could see was attractive, dark hair, almost black, only looked around 30 years old, but he was clearly flirting with the woman, and she was eating it up. Her giggles filled the room, and she was twirling a strand of her long hair between her nimble fingers, no doubt flashing him eyes that screamed fuck me. 

You watched their exchange from your seat at the bar, until the man was tapping his pockets, pulling a pack of cigarettes out and passing one to the woman, leading her to the front of the bar and then outside. 

  With the attractive man and the blonde gone, you could look at the man with them for the first time, with no interruptions. He was a little older than the man who accompanied him, dark hair, tanned skin, a strong yet beautifully carved nose, strong arms and big, broad shoulders. He was gorgeous, so gorgeous that you were distracted by the way that his thick thighs were spread out on the barstool, which was dwarfed by his huge frame. Unsure just how long you’d been staring, you failed to notice that he was looking in your direction. He was looking at you, looking at him and he was smirking. His face, gorgeous and now sporting an almost too smug expression, was looking right at you, and you were momentarily stunted by the intense eye contact. You were seldom intimidated by men these days, they were always so predictable, so similar to each other that you knew what was coming each time. But this impossibly handsome man had not yet spoken a word to you, and was already affecting you in ways you weren’t sure you had ever experienced. 

Pulling yourself together as best as you could, you began your routine. You smiled at him, feigning shyness, although you were not sure if this time your shyness was completely fake, and held his eye. You had done this countless times and knew what worked with men. Smile innocently, act bashful and coy and they were soon eating out of your hand. But you could tell that this man was different, his smirk was now gone but he still looked so confident, so sure of himself. You knew you were not in control of this situation, and you welcomed the feeling. You held eye contact and wordlessly beckoned him over with a wave of your hand, you had not yet heard his voice but you were already settled comfortably under the influence of his charisma, and you wanted more. As if in an out-of-body experience, you felt as though you could see your own eyes, and your eyes were undoubtedly, just as you expected the blonde’s eyes from earlier to be; screaming fuck me. 

You watched as he grabbed his drink, his hand so big that the glass looked as if it had shrunk in his hand, brought it up to his lips and took a long sip. As if in a trance, you watched as he gulped the drink down, his Adam's apple bobbing and you couldn’t help but notice the veins in his thick neck that were slightly prominent. The man then got up from the bar stool, turned completely in your direction and walked towards you. The distance he crossed wasn’t far at all, and you found yourself wishing it was further, wishing the universe would grant you more time to take in his perfect form from the front. 

He places a hand on the barstool next to yours and, still holding intense eye contact, speaks to you for the first time. “You’re far too beautiful to be in a place like this,” his voice was heavenly, deep and velvety with a slight Texan drawl that was enough to make you squirm in your seat. The way in which his voice affected you had you floored, you were completely speechless and could only look up at him from your seat. You gestured to the barstool his hand was resting on, wordlessly telling him to take a seat beside you. He smiled and pulled out the stool slightly, showcasing his strong bicep and forearm. “Are you here alone?” he asked as he looked you up and down. His eyes, although soft and kind, held a fierce intensity that intrigued you.

You lifted your glass to your lips with your left hand, the ring finger of which still sporting your wedding band, and licked a sliver of salt from the rim, all while holding his eye, said in the most seductive voice you could muster, “I wanted a night away,” and waited for the penny to drop. You liked for the men you slept with to know that you were married, that this was their only chance, that you were never going to see them again. Some would shrink away while others would lean in. Some needed to hear about the agreement and others found it sexy, that they were fucking another man’s wife. You hoped that Joel was not the type to shrink away, to recoil with offence, as if you had slapped him, as some of them would. You could tell the exact moment he noticed the ring, his mouth, previously open as if he was ready to speak, quickly clamped shut. His eyes glanced up at your face, and then back down to your hand, which was now gently resting on the bar top. 

“You’re married? I’m sorry I must’ve read this wrong,” he drawled, and moved to stand up but you quickly interjected.

“You didn't,” the words sounded rushed when they left your mouth, your voice louder than you intended, “You didn’t read anything wrong. My husband and I…..”. This was the part you didn’t like, explaining the agreement was never easy, “...we have an agreement,” you said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t inquire further. 

“Like a…. Like an open relationship?” he asked while raising his eyebrow, and you nodded affirmatively. 

“Yeah, basically,” you said, and suddenly realised you still did not know his name, he was still only a stranger to you, a stranger who’s body you wanted to lick the entirety of. You introduced yourself, telling him your name. 

“I’m Joel, nice to meet ya darlin’,” he drawled, gruff and impossibly sexy. Joel, finally hearing his name felt as if you had been waiting to hear it for years, you returned his sentiment and tried his name on your tongue, tasting it as you said it.

“I like your voice, like the way you say my name,” he smirked once again, and his confident aura reappeared. “Your husban’ must be crazy, if you were mine I’d damn near kill anyone else wantin’ to get involved.” 

“Do you want to get involved?” you asked, keeping your voice sounding as demure as you could while softly placing a hand above his knee, slowly tracing aimless patterns on his thigh, not so innocently creating a pattern with your fingertips, tracing higher and higher towards the apex of his thighs. 

“Isn’t it obvious what I want?” he drawled, looking you up and down, his eyes flitting from your hand on his thigh and up to your face, “if that's what you want, maybe I should take you home, wouldn’t want a woman like you all alone,” he said in a coy like statement, with almost a hint of sarcasm in his voice, his eyebrows raising with his speech. 

“That’s exactly what I want, Joel,” you responded, you didn't have to try and sound innocent anymore, you were desperate for anything he would give you, and he was not transparent with his desires. His confident air was enough to make your panties soak with desire, the weeping wetness that occurred between your legs was enough to make you agree to his suggestion, to agree to any suggestion or action he ordered. 

He stood up and, holding out his hand to you, led you outside of the bar, his hands, rough and calloused and so much bigger than yours, made your head spin with anticipation. Outside, the man Joel was with earlier was kissing the blonde but pulled away just in time to catch Joel opening a taxi door for you to climb into and said nothing, but lifted up both his hands in a thumbs up, and smirked. 

Joel’s house, promised to only be only a short taxi ride away, was a cosy home, and was adorned with pictures of a child, or teenager, one you were not sure you should ask the story of. His bedroom however, was typical of a man’s, although tidier than many, was plain, but for a few pictures which populated the otherwise bare walls. But before you got a chance to properly observe his bedroom he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, impossibly close. His hands travelled to your neck, gently wrapping his hands around it without applying any pressure. He was kissing you with fervour, his lips, while soft and supple, were aggressive in the way they claimed your mouth, he was possessive in his want, his touch, his need. His kiss, although distracting, was not distracting enough to divert your attention from the large hand that was trailing from your neck, to your collarbone and slowly to the low line of your dress, his soft caress of your breast quickly turned rough when he pinched your nipple, earning him a whimper from your lips. 

You were almost gasping for breath while his hands continued their assault on your chest, almost missing the whisper he let out against your mouth, asking, “are you sure you want this?” to which you quickly nodded your head. Although he smirked, he was clearly unsatisfied with your wordless reply, and placed his thumb and forefinger underneath your chin to lift your head to face him and upon meeting your eyes he uttered the words, “I need words, sweetheart” and you could have melted on the spot. Any other man calling you sweetheart would not have had the same affect, your cheeks would not have heated up as soon as his low drawl reached your ears, you would not have felt the urge to press your thighs together in search of friction, and you certainly would not have grown wetter from hearing the word. “Sweetheart,” from another man’s lips would have made you cringe, maybe uncomfortable, it might even have repulsed you. But not from Joel’s mouth, not from Joel’s plush, kissable lips, not in his deep voice with the Texan accent that left you craving more.   

Dazed, almost forgetting that what he’d said was a question, and warranted an answer, he smirked at you, again. His confidence had not wavered once, he knew you wanted him, and why not lean into it even more?

 “Please,” was the word that left your mouth. The only word. It was desperate and almost pathetic, but that’s exactly how you felt; desperate to feel his hands on you, desperate to feel his mouth on you, and desperate to feel his cock inside of you. His smirk only grew hearing the want in your plea, the need. He kissed you, slowly and unhurriedly, before walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed and you fell onto it. 

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Joel’s strong, calloused hands were grabbing your ankles, and roughly pulling you towards the end of the bed, towards him. 

Your excitement grew at his rough treatment, which only made you more shocked when he placed soft kisses where his hands were only a second ago, containing you in a harsh grasp. 

He kissed a trail up your legs, your core was almost buzzing in anticipation when he impatiently pushed your dress up so that it was bunched up around your waist and, wasting no time, pulled your underwear to the side, exposing your dripping heat. He admired the newfound view for a second, before licking a hot stripe from your hole to your clit, eliciting a deep groan from both of you. Joel continues to lap at your folds messily, he was letting out groans of appreciation which only added to your pleasure. You were a moaning mess already, writhing on the bed as he continued his assault on your pussy. Joel’s arms grabbed your ankles once again and lifted them so that your legs fell over his shoulder, opening you up for him even more and allowing him to wrap his arms around your thighs, his hands splayed out on your stomach, holding you down as you struggled to keep still the closer you got to coming. As if he could tell you were close, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, while simultaneously slipping two fingers into your soaking wet heat, thrusting them in and out a few times before curling them, his hands that were on your stomach pressing down and adding more pressure. You could no longer comprehend a thing, you were no longer in that room, in that house, it hardly felt like you were in your own body. Joel’s incessant movements had pushed you further than you had ever been pushed before and you were floating, hardly realising that you had completely soaked his sheets. When you came down and regained your senses, you lifted your head to look at him, only to find him already looking at you, the lower half of his face covered in your juices, dripping from his chin, and that damned smirk on his face. 

“You taste amazing, sweetheart,” he swiped his chin with the back of his hand as he spoke, the lewd action bringing heat to your cheeks. Placing his palms flat on the bed, he lifted himself up, climbing up your body until you were face to face. He kissed you roughly, his mouth still wet with your own essence, allowing you to taste yourself as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Still reeling off the fact that this man, who you had only met tonight, had made you squirt, something no other man had ever done, not even Marcus, you broke off the kiss and quickly mumbled, “No one’s ever done that before,” into his mouth. He pulled away and, where you expected to see his signature smirk, you saw a shocked expression. 

“Really?” he questioned, his voice sounded genuine and almost concerned. “That’s a damn shame, sweetheart,” he continued while taking off his jeans and boxers, allowing you with your first view of his cock. Your eyes trailed down from his face, passing his broad shoulders and lean chest, soft belly, the trail of hair that led to his cock. You gasped involuntarily upon seeing it for the first time. It was without a doubt the biggest you had ever seen in front of you, and although you were desperate to feel him inside of you, his size made you nervous. 

“Well, let's see if we can make you squirt again, darlin’,” he said while slowly pumping his cock, and, sensing your nerves, he lowered his face to yours and kissed you before whispering, “We can stop anytime you want to ok? Just say ‘red’ if you want to stop.” You nodded with complete enthusiasm, his reassurance completely erased your nerves and you felt more than ready to take him. 

He ran his hand through your folds, collecting your wetness and spread it all over his cock before asking, “You want me t’ open you up a little more, baby?”, to which you burst out a loud ‘no’ before realising your lips were moving. Your want for him had seemed to reach its peak, and you couldn’t wait any longer. He smiled at you and tapped his tip against your clit once, twice, three times, making you whine and grind your hips, chasing his cock. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a slut, baby,” he accused while lining himself up with your entrance, without pushing inside. 

Your breathing was growing heavier from his teasing and all you could manage was a small, “Please,” while you stared up at him, silently begging for him to just put it in. 

He granted your silent request and pushed in, slowly letting you feel all of him filling you up, but not before chuckling softly and breathing out a low, “I fuckin’ knew it,”. You had never been called a slut during sex before, but his degrading words mixed with the slight burn of his cock stretching you out was making your pussy drip on the sheets. He slowly filled you up to the brim, his tip lightly kissing your cervix as he bottomed out, he stayed there, unmoving and looked at you intently, searching for any sign of discomfort. 

Before he could ask if you were ok, if he could move, you started grinding your hips into him, desperate to feel any sort of friction. His feeling of his cock stretching you out was delicious, but it didn’t satisfy you, it only made you needy for more. Joel, realising that you were ok and wanted more, let out a low chuckle and withdrew his hips, leaving only his tip resting inside you, and then pushed all the way inside again, letting out a low groan. He repeated these movements, a slow in and out until you were a complete mess, moaning and groaning, writhing and squirming, unable to contain your reaction to the devastation his cock was causing your body. But you still needed more, you needed him to be fast and rough with you, to fuck you like his life depended on it, like it was the last thing he would do. So, you did the only thing you knew how to do at that moment, you begged. “Please, Joel, please go faster,” you interrupted yourself with a whimper as his cocked brushed against that spot that made your eyes flutter closed involuntarily. “Please, I can take it, I want it harder,” you looked up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth and your hands gripping the sheets.

Joel seemed to lose control momentarily, he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, which made his cock feel deeper than you thought possible, the angle making you moan loudly. His hands then flew to your neck, and they were nowhere near as gentle as they were  when he softly held your neck earlier, his grip was harsh this time, restricting your breathing slightly as he sped up his thrusts, holding his face close to yours and letting out a low growl. 

“I knew you were a slut as soon as I saw ya’.” He grunted with a surprising amount of control in his voice as he continued to fuck you with full strokes, completely emptying you before filling you again. “Actin’ all shy, but I saw through that. You’re just a dirty. Little. Slut.” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust. You had never been fucked like this in your life. The only way you thought to describe the whole experience was feral. The way Joel was fucking you was feral. The way you reacted to it was feral. The way you craved more was feral. You craved his cock as soon as it left you, and were quickly satisfied once again only to be craving more seconds later. 

“Oh God, Joel,” you cried out in a high pitched whine, his words, combined with his quick, hard thrusts, were pushing you towards the edge for the second time that night. This was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you've been craving for so long and to have it given to you by a random man you met in a bar shocked you. You barely had to ask for what you wanted, Joel gave it to you happily, he seemed to enjoy this just as much as you did. 

“Oh you like that, huh? You like bein’ called a slut?” his face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your face as he spat out the words. You could only whimper and nod your head, you were already completely fucked out, wrecked from the way he was using your pussy. Your eyes were beginning to close when he ordered you to look at him and when you did he called another order, “Open your mouth,” he commanded, and you didn't even have to think before you obeyed him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. His spit landed perfectly in the middle of your tongue, and you were so shocked from watching his lips pucker, and spit into your mouth that you swallowed immediately, the sight, the action and the feeling of him spitting in your mouth was something you had never experienced. And you loved it. 

Joel grabbed your chin roughly and forced your mouth open, seeing that you had swallowed every drop of spit that he gave you, he growled out a low, “good girl,” which made you moan loudly, a harsh, guttural sound that you were sure you had never made before. It was an accidental reaction that brought the smirk back to Joel’s face as he forced two of his fingers into your mouth and trailed them down your body. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he travelled down to just above where his cock was sliding into your cunt and swiped your clit in slow, firm circles that made your head spin. 

“I want you to come for me,” although his voice was starting to sound breathless, his command was still strong, it was not a suggestion, you were going to come for him. “Be a good girl, and come on my cock,” his fingers circling your clit sped up, sending you rushing towards your peak. Your moans grew louder and louder, until you were almost screaming, your head moving to the side to try and muffle the noise. As Joel continued his movements, his grunts were getting louder as he began to grow close. This was only intensified when you tightened around him, your walls fluttering as you came with a loud moan, gasping for breath. 

“Good girl,” Joel said through gritted teeth as he picked up his pace, fucking you harder and faster as he chased his high. “You're such a good girl for me, sweetheart,” he continued, his voice sounding more and more strained the more he spoke. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” the lewd sound of your skin slapping together and your wetness accompanied his strained voice, and all you could do as you took his cock over and over again, was listen to the pornographic sounds. “You’re gonna make me come,” he confessed, speeding up his thrusts even more, making you let out a squeal of surprise. 

“You’re my new little slut.” His fingers returned to circle your clit, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. This new amount of pleasure was a shock to you, Joel was already testing your limits, pushing the boundaries of your body and you were loving every second of it. 

“I don’t care if you got a ring on your finger, you're my slut now,” he claimed you again through gritted teeth and you couldn't help but let out a moan at this. You wanted to be his, and you weren't even the slightest bit ashamed. 

“Now be a good little slut and cum for me again,” his fingers sped up on your clit, and just when you thought you couldn't come again, your mouth was open in a silent scream as your whole body tensed up. Your walls caved in on Joel’s cock until he came inside the condom with a loud groan, continuing to thrust softly inside you before pulling out and throwing the full condom in the bin. Your mind was completely blank, so blank that you barely registered that you had no energy to get up, that you barely registered Joel softly wiping your pussy and legs with a warm cloth, or Joel finally taking off the dress that you had kept on due to impatience, pulling the covers over your body, and bringing you close to him before kissing your forehead. 

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

You woke with a start, immediately realising you were not at home. You were in a foreign room, in a foreign bed, wrapped in foreign arms. You slowly got out of bed, gently unwrapped yourself from Joel's arms and crept to the bathroom. You take a look in the mirror and see a liar. You haven’t lied yet, but you know you will. Staring at yourself, you realise that you broke a rule last night by staying at Joel’s. You had one of the best nights of your life, undoubtedly the best sex of your life but you broke a rule, a rule your husband had set, a rule you had agreed to, a rule to avoid feelings getting involved, to avoid getting too close. Unsure what to do, you headed back into the bedroom with a vague plan of getting your clothes and leaving before Joel woke up. The plan was ruined as soon as you entered the bedroom and saw Joel awake, looking at you in all your naked glory. He smiles at you and beckons you towards him. You walk towards him, feeling as though your feet are moving of their accord, with no help from your brain and he pulls you back into bed, kissing your cheek before whispering in your ear, “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

Before you could help yourself, you answer honestly, “Same here,” you said, maybe a little too honestly. He kisses you in response, it was full of passion and reminded you of the night before, how he’d claimed you as his, despite the ring on your finger. His hand trailed to your neck, and down your collarbone before softly caressing your breasts and asking, “Can I touch you, baby? I didn't get enough last night.” His voice was in your ear and was even more deep and gruff after a full night's rest. You knew that you should have put an end to it there, should have gathered your things and left, you should have resisted him. But you couldn't. There was something about him that you wanted, that you needed, that you craved. 

So, you nodded your head and whispered a soft yes which was met with a teasing pinch to your nipple before he kissed you again. He continued pinching and rubbing your nipples before trailing his hand lower, moving to rub your clit slowly. Your moans and whimpers were interrupted by a question from Joel, “I promised to make you squirt again last night, you didn't think I'd let you go home before staying true to my word did ya’ sweetheart?” He doubled his efforts, sliding two fingers into your core before curling them, just like he did last night, only this morning, he used his thumb to rub quick but firm and controlled circles on your clit, stimulating you just right, and sending you towards your peak. His other hand was splayed over your stomach, lightly pushing down to add more pressure and soon you were chanting his name over and over, praying that he didn't stop. 

“C’mon baby, soak me,” he grunted just as your orgasm hit you, buzzing through your body, making you feel light and airy, and you soon felt the wetness grow on the sheets, a sure sign he had made you squirt, again. 

“Oh my God,” your voice sounded breathless and all you could do was fight for breath and lie back on the bed. Joel lay down beside you and, turning your head to face him, smiled cockily at you. You smiled back at him and made a move to grab his cock, ready to return the favour but he shook his head and said, “That was about you, darlin, you don’t have to do anything,”. Before you could protest and say that you wanted to, because fuck did you want to feel him in your mouth, his features turned from cocky to nervous. You locked eyes with him as his mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to force the words out but something stopped him each time. 

Eventually, he spoke, “Can I erm…. Can I see you again sometime?” His question had you swooning, you tried to stop yourself, you really did, but the apprehension in his voice, something you had not encountered in him since you met only added to your desire to see him again. And so, you said yes and gave him your phone number, before telling him you had to go.  

“At least let me make ya’ some breakfast before ya’ run off, sweetheart,” his words had you quickly feeling hungry, having not even thought about food this morning, you nodded your head, and he jerked his head towards the hallway. You put on last night's dress and followed him downstairs. On the way to the kitchen you took more notice of the pictures scattered around the house, there were some of Joel and the man you’d seen at the bar last night, and some of the girl you’d noticed on the way in last night. She looked a beautiful girl and you wanted to ask who she was, and who she was to Joel especially, but he was already asking you a question.

“How do you take your coffee?” He was straining his neck to look behind him at you as he asked the question. 

“Just two sugars, please,” you answered as you sat behind him on the island as he made your coffee, appreciating his naked back as he busied himself. His toned shoulders, the muscles in his back tensing as he moved. 

He turned around and placed your coffee in front of you, you smiled in thanks, which he readily returned. 

“So what do you do? we kind of skipped over the small talk last night” he said with a chuckle, his cheeks turning slightly red, “But i wanna know more about you.”

“I work in publishing,” you answered after taking a small sip of your too hot coffee, “so I read a lot of manuscripts, decide if they’re likely to sell, I could be editing the book, or I could be promoting books.” 

“Why’d you decide to go into that?” he asked with genuine interest, while turning

around to turn on the stove. “You good with scrambled eggs?”

“Yeah scrambled’s good,” you grinned at how easy this felt, you were only getting to know each other the morning after, but it felt good to sit here with him and just talk. “I’ve always loved reading and just books in general, so I got my degree in English Literature and then I didn’t know what to do, so I did a masters in publishing.”

“If you love books so much why don’t you just write one?” he asked as if it was the easiest thing in the world, turning around to give you a look that said, “duh”, before returning to cracking the eggs. 

“well……I don’t really think I'm good enough to actually write a book. I know when a book is good and when it’ll sell but, I don’t know if i could write a good book” you asked with slight insecurity. Marcus had never asked this, never suggested you do what you really wished to do, what you’ve always wanted to do. 

“That sounds like bullshit to me, you should try it,” you laughed at his nonchalance,  you liked how he thought you should do something no matter how unrealistic it sounded.

“We’ll see,” you answered with a chuckle before returning his question, “what do you do?”

“I’m a contractor, me and my brother, the guy I was with last night, have our own

Company,” he explained while quickly whisking the eggs, his muscles working overtime and giving you an amazing view of his back tensing. “I started  when I was young, right out of school.”

“Do you enjoy it?” He only shrugged in response at first, before turning around to face you.

“Pays the bills,” he said before serving up your breakfast and sitting next to you with his own. 

“So what would you enjoy doing?” you asked, since he was so adamant that you do what you want, no matter your insecurities.

“Well..” he started, and while scratching the back of his neck, seemed to contemplate whether this was something he actually wanted to say. “I always wanted to be a singer, every since I got my first guitar.”

You couldn't help but grin at the thought of the man next to you singing with a guitar in  his lap. “Well, you’ll have to sing for me sometime,” you suggested, unable to contain your grin as you spoke. 

“If you’re lucky, sweetheart, now eat your food.” He tapped your plate as he spoke, “‘M sure ya need your energy after last night.”

You both enjoyed your food in silence, you caught him looking at you while you chewed a particularly big mouthful of food, and he only chuckled when you stared back at his obnoxiously big bites. You thanked him for the food and tried to do the dishes yourself, but he looked at you as if you were a lunatic and did them himself, leaving you to do nothing but admire him again. 

You were ready to call a taxi to pick you up and, asking if he had any numbers you could call, but he didn't gratify your question with an answer, he instead looked at you with a dumbfounded look on his face and said, “I’ll drive ya sweetheart,”. He didn't listen to your protests, ran upstairs to put a shirt on and picked up his keys, led you outside, opened the passenger door of the truck for you before running to the other side and jumping in. You gave him the name of your street and he started the car, grumbling about it only being a 5 or so minute drive and drove. His arms were almost bulging out his shirt, his broadness creating the impression his clothes were bursting at the seams. 

He looked over at you, caught you staring and looked you up and down before saying, “That dress looks even better on you this morning than it did last night, especially with your hair all messed up,” he smiled as he spoke, looking ahead at the road but stealing glances at you every now and then. 

You smiled and made a humming noise, as if you were thinking hard and responded, “You looked better last night,” and smiled teasingly at him. He in fact, did not look better last night, his hair, messy and dishevelled made him look adorable and seeing him in comfier clothes than last night was incredibly sexy. 

He let out a chuckle and smiled at you again. Every smile he threw your way felt so genuine, and never failed to melt you into a puddle. As the car came to a stop outside your house, Joel leaned over to kiss your cheek and quietly asked, “So I’ll text you?” to which you nodded, thanked him for the ride and moved to get out of the car. But he interrupted your move with another question, “And you're sure your hubby’ll be all good with that?” You had no idea how to respond and in your shock all you gave was a timid mhm as you rushed out of the car and onto the driveway of yours and your husbands shared home.

He shouted a “see ya, sweetheart,” as you walked and you prayed none of your neighbours heard and walked into your home feeling guiltier than ever. 

Upon your arrival home, you showered immediately, desperately needing some time to think. But thinking only added to your guilt. You had broken the second rule of your agreement last night by staying the night. You’d let him touch you again this morning, and you enjoyed it, you loved it. You’d agreed to see him again, and you didn’t regret agreeing, worst of all you wanted to see him again, but that would be another rule broken. Another lie. Another betrayal. As guilty as you felt, there was a voice in your head, you imagined it to be the devil on your shoulder, whispering in your ear that maybe, just maybe, Joel Miller was worth it. 

Read part 2 here !!!

[moonfawnx]

Whispers of our past

Rhysand x Celine (oc)

Prologue

Celine stared at the wall, waiting.

Waiting for Rhys to come back to her.

Was he playing some kind of sick jokes?

It had been a week ago when she’d last seen him. When he’d made love to her all night, whispering promises on her skin, promises of their future.

She held him through the night, stroking his hair and wings softly, sharing her love to him.

He played with her black hair, and complimented her eyes, commenting ominously how they reminded him of oceans during night, due to their deep blue colour.

They had been seeing each other for nearly five years. Five years- she had met his family in the first few months and oh how she adored all of them. Her playful jokes with Cassian, her mutual calmness with Azriel allowed them to bond, her shared interests with Moriggan and her witty responses that amused Amren.

She was his peace. His happiness, his comfort. She’d bonded so well with his family, he couldn’t wait to have her sit on a throne beside him, rule with him and spend the rest of his life with her.

But for now, they chose a more peaceful life.

They were staying at a cottage he purchased, on the outsides of Velaris, as it provided a sense of freedom and calmness he hadn’t experienced anywhere else.

Three weeks ago, he had finally done it. He had taken her on a dinner date, and a flight after which landed them on the top of the tallest mountain there, granting them a perfect view of the stars and galaxy. and right there, the high lord went on one knee, and pulled out a small black box, with a shiny ring inside.

The stone, was the prettiest Celine had ever laid her eyes on, as he explained that he’d had it custom made for her, as none he had found seemed perfect enough for her.

She said yes, and then she was in his arms, tears in her eyes as she kissed him beneath the stars.

For the weeks after the proposal, he was with her every single night, tangled in the sheets together, whispering together about their love.

And then a week ago, whilst they were together again, he left and never came back.

He had been laying on her bed, sheepishly smiling at her while she rubbed body cream on her skin, right after they showered together. And as she turned towards him and smiled back, his smile faltered as his eyes widened.

He quickly got up, muttering some excuses about how he had court meetings he had forgotten about, and then vanished into air.

Celine, of course, was understandably confused but figured the high lord would return to her the day after.

But he didn’t.

Not the day after, not two days after, then three and now a week.

Her stress for him grew each day, and by the third day of hearing no word for him, she made her way to Velaris but- the city was gone.

It was as if the earth had swallowed her beautiful home, as she tried to find her way back, to home, to him.

It was then she realised- he shielded the city. From what? From who?

And where was he? Why had he left her? Why had he not contacted her yet?

It was then that she realised that the high lord disregarded her as if she meant nothing to him.

Had he shielded the city from her?

Was that why he abandoned her and never looked back?

As she sat on the couch in the cottage they once shared, a month after Rhysand’s disappearance , that she figured she had to leave.

She packed a bag with her essentials, and some clothing, and then went to her old family home, which she shared with her parents and brother- Matthias, before her parents passed, which lead to both siblings following their own paths.

She winnowed at the house, in the mountains separating winter and autumn courts, and it was after she settled there- and sent a letter to Matthias, who lived at mortal lands with his wife- a kind healer named Elena, as she felt a strong need for their support.

Her brother and his wife arrived two days later, and Celine had finally allowed herself to break down in their arms, as she explained what had happened with Rhys- still looking at her engagement ring on her finger, which she hadn’t found the strength to take off yet.

“Are you sure? Are you sure he doesn’t want you anymore” Matthias asked her, confused since he had known Rhys for all the years he’d been with his sister, and the male seemed to be truly in love with her.

“He left me Mat.” she sobbed “he left, he left, he left.”

Elena and Matthias understood that it was better that they stayed with her through that hard time- and thankfully their old house was big enough for everyone.

In the following week, though, Elena noticed weird behaviour coming from Celine. It was stuff that she excused and blamed to her broken heart- but Elena as a healer knew better than that.

Her sudden mood swings, bone aches and belly pains.

Her growing habit of throwing up every. single. morning.

Her random cravings for food combinations that others would consider repulsing.

Elena knew what all of this meant.

So one night, she approached Celine softly, while she was once again throwing up.

“Celine dear- are you aware of what this-“ she tried but was interrupted.

“please don’t say it” Celine begged, her tired expression and red cheeks evident. “please I- i can’t do this without him”

“You have us” Elena promised “You have me and your brother. I- We promise to be by your side through every step, if you decide to go forward with the pregnancy. The choice is up to you”

Celina started silently crying again, on the first ever acknowledgment of the life growing inside her.

Of the memory she and Rhys had shared.

Of the thoughts that had been haunting her ever since she understood what her morning sickness meant.

Had he known? Was that why he left her? Left them?

She cried more and more as she realised she’d have to go through it on her own and- oh gods.

Each time she and Rhys were intimate, he had his wings wide spread. They hadn’t made love with his wings vanished since before the proposal.

What if the baby had wings.

Would that rip her open?

There was no way she was so damned.

No way she had to endure the pain of Rhys leaving her- only for a few months till their child turned out to be the end of her.

And the months passed and passed.

Celine was so thankful for Elena and Matthias, as they kept true to their word and stayed with her through it all.

Elena, the healer she was, announced that the baby indeed had wings- and pointed out the obvious challenge because of this, but promised ti do her best during birth.

It wasn’t a really happy pregnancy, since she was still mourning the life she was supposed to have with Rhys.

Supposed to love this child, together.

And finally, labor day came.

There were screams, and wails, and broken pleas, as she was ripped open, due to the child’s wings.

There was blood- so, so much of it.

The child was finally out, wailing in the same was its mother was, as she was being stitched by her sister in law.

She remembers her brother’s cries as they nearly lost her. As this nearly cost her life. It was then she’d realised, that even if Rhys did come back one day, she’d never forgive him for this- never forgive him for making her go through all this on her own.

But all her anger vanished as Elena placed a tiny baby boy on her chest.

“Congratulations” she smiled at her “You did great”

“Have you decided on a name for him?” Matthias asked, admiring the baby, who was now in the hands of his mother.

Celine looked down at her son, and finally after months of pain, felt at peace.

“Nyx” tears rolled down her beautiful face.

“His name is Nyx”

~

Taglist: @weekendlusting @sheblogs @nyctophiliiiiaaa

@fanttasttica @byyalady

Finally posted this, I really hope you all like it❤️

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist xx

[pikatsum]

Lights, Camera, Chaos | 1 | Todoroki Shouto / Reader

Summary: You and Shouto are forced to make your first televised appearance as a couple. What starts as an embarrassing invasion of privacy completely upends itself once you realize just how cutthroat the world of reality TV can get.

Tags & Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Quirkless Reader, Pro-Hero Shouto.

Part of the Pretty Boy Summer collab! [cross-posted on ao3]

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Being the partner of a pro-hero was the kind of thing that should really come with an instruction manual. And emblazoned on uncoated paper stock beneath chapter one, the golden rule that nine of ten couples managed to break: keep it on the down-low.

Those who didn’t faced the consequences— particularly civilians.

Their faces were ultimately the ones that got splashed across the front page of every gossip-rag in Japan. They became public pariahs, their names repeated ad nauseam on the news, whispered with glee in hair salons and social clubs. In the story of their life, everything became forfeit to the public— their friends, their profession, their dating history, their homes. All of it.

Now, for nearly three months, you’d been one of them. At the end of the day, that was the noodles’ fault, really.

The summer after culinary school, you’d scored your first full-time role, working as the head chef in a small noodle shop just a few blocks from your college campus, at the edge of the city. The owner, Okuda-san, had been in business for years, but the dreams of grandeur that had brought him to central Mustafau as a young man had long since been struck by reality. Though the quality of his meals had never diminished, he’d vastly scaled back his operations over the last ten years— gone was the opulent restaurant in the center of downtown with its sleek metallic architecture and warm ambient lighting. Gone too was his wife, or so you suspected, based on the mutterings you could pick up from the front office, when business ran slow.

The day you met Shouto, the rain had been coming down in sheets, blurring the windows and filling the reception area with a soothing white-noise as you oversaw reservation bookings, dinner preparations and engaged in a small bit of gossip-gathering on the side. It was that same rain that had led you to warn him about the biodegradable styrofoam that his takeout was packed in, and offer the restaurant’s tiny enclave seating to avoid having his meal ruined by the deluge. You’d shared polite conversation— mostly offering tips for balancing buckwheat dough to make proper soba noodles.

Over time, the street in front of Okuda-san’s little shop had become a well-worn patrol path for Shouto’s agency. Conversations turned to texts, and invitations out with his friends. After an unhealthy amount of pining, you’d finally steeled your nerves enough to ask him on a date— an awkward but effective kickstart to almost two years of the best relationship you’d ever had.

There truly was no protocol for having such an intimate piece of yourself revealed to the public, to millions of your partner’s diehard fans. There weren’t words to describe the moment you first laid eyes on the incriminating photo that had started all of this: the two of you, sharing a kiss on the way up to your apartment. Your longing, exacerbated by Shouto’s tedious travel schedule had faced off against your building’s perpetually-slow elevator doors and came up short.

One grainy picture, posted to one account incited a slew of Internet detectives, stealing your anonymity in a matter of hours.

At the very least, you’d been blissfully unaware at first— overlooking the increasing stares from the diners at Okuda-san’s, and glossing over the fact that the cab driver knew your name on the way home. You’d remained blissfully ignorant up until arriving home to find Shouto on the doorstep, still in his costume. He’d quickly shepherded you up to your apartment and barricaded the door. In full pro-hero mode, he’d guided you through the essentials to pack in a duffel bag, and then quickly brought you back to his, to wait out the full extent of the madness.

The worst of it was concentrated in that first two weeks. You’d been unable to turn on the TV without hearing the diminutive nickname the media had chosen for you— “Noodle Legs”— coupled with the same clip of Shouto guiding you up the steps into his high-rise building, over and over. Unfortunately, your legs had been wobbling, as the full magnitude of what was happening had finally begun to set in. In those first days, you’d sequestered yourself in the guest room with the blinds drawn, the drone of the TV only semi-effective against the catastrophizing taking place in your mind.

The public had judged your relationship with Shouto and you clearly had not met expectations. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Even a decade on from the war that had rewritten the operations of superhuman society, competent wasn’t a word that paired well with Quirkless.

As the media storm raged, you had never seen Shouto so upset. In the first few days, his schedule was particularly erratic, his whereabouts always announced by text and sticky notes left on your door, or the bathroom mirror in tight, neat script. Often, he was out amidst the public, speaking to media outlets on his own, trying to stem the influx of public opinion about you that had become the nation’s topic de jour. As you slowly began to emerge from your cocoon of solitude, you saw just how oppositely this ordeal was affecting him.

When he was home, Shouto paced, relentlessly. He completed a book of Sudoku puzzles as you absently cooked enough udon to feed a small army— or at least four of his pro-hero friends. Each night, he scarcely settle in on the couch next to you before noticing a stray sock or a flickering lightbulb, some small thing to put right. Nothing was enough, anymore, and even as you asked him to come to bed— his bed— he only ever seemed to sleep on the couch, if at all.

After nearly a week, his mania and your melancholy finally collided, spectacularly. You could still remember the whisper of the paper against the hardwood, as it slid under the bedroom door, late that night. Nearly two pages offered a handwritten letter apologizing for the upheaval of your entire life, and his absence in the aftermath. The third carefully recorded the plan he’d been building to mitigate the fallout, mentioning the friends he’d enlisted to help him and proposed ideas for a manufactured scandal, enough to take the limelight off you. That moment of shade, he argued, would allow you to distance yourself.

“I promise to help you establish a future that will make you happy.” the letter concluded, “And I understand, if that future no longer includes me.”

It was carefully-worded, largely self removed and so quintessentially Shouto that it nearly broke you all over again. Not much about your future was determined that night, apart from one, indelible truth: you didn’t want a future without Shouto in it. If that meant you’d have to face the public— the cameras and opinions and bigotry— so be it.

You’d casually perused enough gossip magazines to know the general strategies that hero & civilian relationships used, publicly. Some couples went on luxurious (sponsored) vacations, their devotion shamelessly showcased through glossy magazine spreads and corny ‘What’s in Our Suitcase?’ Q&As. Others used their moment in the limelight to launch one partner’s passion project — a private art studio, a taproom, a crossfit gym— often trendy, always overcrowded and never necessary public infrastructure.

The rest wrote memoirs. So. Many. Memoirs. You’d just finished “Catching the Copycat. — How I Fell in Love with Phantom Thief” earlier that month, and it wasn’t half bad. Amidst the unending slew of public attention and the realization that you were going to have to market yourself somehow, the idea of writing a novel was contenting. At the very least, your partner’s versatile Quirk meant there was no end to the pithy puns you could come up with for a title.

And then, Shouto’s PR team put out a press release announcing that the two of you would be starring in the next episode of Split Shift— the Hero Network’s one and only reality television program.

‘Think you’ve got what it takes to be a hero? Think again!” announced its pithy tagline, in the promotional packet,’ Each week, Split Shift lets its viewers experience a day in the life of the nation’s top defenders, exposing their personal sides, through the eyes of their inner circle!.’

The two of you had tried to fight it. Oh, how you had tried, your combined efforts quickly spawning endless hours of email chains. But Shouto’s public relations team was relentless— apparently, the clamor of the public for more details, photos, evidence of your leaked relationship was stronger than any villain in the known universe. And without it, they warned, Shouto’s rank in the heroics charts was severely at risk.

“I’m sure you’re aware,” Omori Mika, Shouto’s head of PR, explained, fingers flying across her keyboard as a window of metrics popped up, “a significant portion of Shouto’s fanbase finds him anywhere from “considerably” to “highly” attractive. Early this year, he dethroned Best Jeanist to win Quirk’d Magazines’ “Hottest Hero Alive.”

“Oh, yes— well deserved.” you nodded, sparing a glance to your own well-loved copy, resting on the coffee table. The cover-shot had really captured his intensity, the haunting contrast of his heterochromatic gaze in low lighting.

From the other side of the couch, Shouto cleared his throat, and you found yourself impishly delighted by the fact that he refused to meet your eyes.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because that faction in particular wants to know — why her?” Mika made a brief gesture towards you as she expounded, “Why, out of every person in the nation— the world, even— why is she the one you chose?”

Shouto blinked, glancing between you and the laptop.

“Do they want a list? I’d have to ask Midoriya for—“

“—evidence is the name of the game, Shouto.” Mika broke in, “Photos, maybe, but what people really want is footage.”

“Footage that we have to get by being publicly humiliated, got it.” you sighed.

A notch appeared between Mika’s perfectly- plucked eyebrows.

“I know you’re both unhappy about the booking, but the Hero Network is the best platform to showcase Shouto’s capabilities. The nature of the show won’t just remind people why they trust him— it’ll show that he’s chosen a capable and resourceful partner, as well.”

You flushed and averted your gaze. Capable and resourceful were just about the last things that you were feeling, at the moment.

“And honestly, Split Shift is tame in comparison to some of the shows that have been asking for you.” Mika began to flip through her color-coded planner, “Let’s see… Quirktastrophe, Save my Love Life… oh, you’re lucky we didn’t put you on Zero to Hero, I hear that host is a real piece of work, off-camera…”

“Message received.” Shouto intoned, cutting off the diatribe. You moved your legs enough to allow him to scoot over, leaning forward to minimize the chat window and zoom in on a contractual document, written in a font size in the single-digits. He met your eyes

You took a deep breath and sealed your fates with a nod.

“Where do we sign?”

The devil worked hard, but apparently the scheduling team for Split Shift worked harder. Less than a week later, the two of you were arriving at the studio at the crack of dawn, for what promised to be a grueling day of filming. The process began two blocks before the filming lot, a two-man crew driving out to meet in an adjacent parking lot. You and Shouto were each asked to step out of the car in order to have a microphone pack strapped and secured beneath your clothing. They also hooked a small portable camera to the dashboard, to “capture your authentic reactions to arriving on-set.”

In a mutual act of defiance, you and Shouto remained dead-silent for the remaining two blocks. It was a welcome respite, especially given that it seemed those silences would be few and far between for the rest of the day.

Two steps out of the car and you were being accosted by a human gale-force. She arrived in a cloud of cherry-scented perfume, and wasted no time in handing over the two smoothies she was carrying. The badge pinned smartly to her dark blazer read “Noujuu Yōko”.

You’d just barely opened your mouth to offer a ‘thank you’, but the woman barely spared a glance before she turned and circled a finger in the air to follow.

“You’re seven minutes late.”

“Your crew was delayed and there were a number of road closures en route.” Shouto fell in line, his cooler hand lacing with your free one, “We weren’t—“

“—I sent a reminder email at 2:45 AM with these details. Your coordinator should have shared them.”

You watched as a notch appeared in your partner’s brow, a subtle display of his annoyance. Before he could retort, you broke in with a small laugh that felt as awkward and forced as it sounded.

“Sorry about that.” you said, “This is all… very new.”

You didn’t receive a response, nor at this point were you particularly expecting one. Avoiding the wires criss-crossing the asphalt while keeping up with her brisk pace was taking enough effort, anyways. Unfortunately, an experimental sip of the smoothie in your hand revealed that it tasted like chalk.

“Don’t feel the need to apologize.” Shouto murmured, as you slowed your pace. This close, notes of mint and jasmine stood out in his cologne as he leaned over to murmur to you, “She’s just high-strung. They can film and record as they like, now— I’ve already seen a camera following us, from the right. They’re looking for reactions.”

“So, no public meltdowns— got it.” you smiled weakly, a chill going up your spine at the prospect of indirectly being ‘on-air’.

Yōko led the way back to the first of the sound stages as she explained that Split Shift was filmed in a “psychologically-backed” sequence. The core of that process was candid footage, occasionally guided by interviews.

“You’ll be interviewing throughout the day, both separately and together.” she explained, at the door, “At midday, we’ll have a thirty-minute lunch, and a touch-up with hair and makeup. The afternoon will then be dedicated to wrapping up the heroics case.”

“The… what?” you asked, glancing at Shouto, “Is there something you’re supposed to look into?”

“Not that I am aware of.” Shouto said, “Although I assume, based on the increasing number of cameras that have tracked us here, that this is meant to be some kind of dramatic twist.”

It took you a moment to begin to spot them— angled around corners, hidden in the shrubbery and eaves of the soundstage. There was even a drone flying overhead, high up enough to muffle the whine of its motors. Apprehension bloomed in your chest, counting at least fifteen cameras, knowing there were likely more.

The tone Shouto adopted was pure apathy— but you knew it as a defense mechanism, to hide the anger he hated to show.

“Is there a particular direction you’d like us to face, to express our shock?” he said.

Yōko’s chartreuse eyes narrowed in a silent declaration of war.

“This way will be fine.”

In the next instant, a loud metallic screech made you jump. Whirling around, you realized that the garage door of the warehouse was opening, and although you couldn’t see much through the gloom, the sun’s rays did catch off another two camera lenses, at least.

“We’ve made a few changes on set.” Yōko had to raise her voice to speak over the shuffle of the film crew as they filled in the space, the descending screech of the drone, “Audiences used to prefer viewing the world of heroes at street-level, through the eyes of those they loved most. Now, they want to experience it, for themselves.”

You weren’t looking at her, though, or any of the multitudes of cameras. Instead, your gaze was focused on the mannequin angled in the center of the sound stage, and dressed in a disconcerting blend of lycra and tactical gear— specifically an all-too-familiar vest and utility belt.

Yōko’s voice rang out behind you, sending a chill up your spine as the full scope of what you had gotten yourself into began to click into place.

“So, [Last Name] [First Name]. Are you ready to become a hero?”

[weasleysbliss]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 | 𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

pairing: ron weasley x fem!reader

summary: while spending the summer at the burrow, you and ron are forced to share a space. between playful bickering and quiet moments, you realize love might be closer than you thought.

word count: 2k

➽────────────────❥

At last, exams were over, school was done, and you couldn’t wait to start your summer break. But this summer wouldn’t be like the others.

Your parents were traveling abroad, leaving you home alone. However, they didn’t trust you to spend two months on your own, so they insisted you stay at one of your friends’ houses for the time being.

Ginny was kind enough to consider the idea and propose it to her mom. Thankfully, Molly Weasley was more than happy to take you in. She already had seven children of her own, so having her only daughter's friend stay for two months was no trouble.

A few hours before you moved in, your nerves started to settle. You were still processing the fact that you’d be spending two months with a group of people you barely knew—excluding the parents. Though you went to school together and were in the same house, you’d never really had the chance to befriend them—except for Ginny.

She helped you pack your belongings, and together, you both walked to the Burrow. On the way there, Ginny went over a few house rules, explained their usual routines, and warned you about Fred and George. The twins were known for their mischievous pranks, always causing trouble. Nonetheless, you felt ready for the next few months.

When you arrived at the doorstep, Ginny unlocked the front door with her wand, and you were greeted by Molly and Arthur. "Oh, Y/N dear, how wonderful to have you here!" Molly exclaimed, pulling you into a warm bear hug—a gesture you hadn’t received in a long time.

"Good to see you, Y/N!" Arthur greeted, extending his hand for a handshake, which you accepted. "Thank you so much for allowing me to stay, I really appreciate it." You said, while giving them a heartfelt smile. "Oh no worries dear, you're welcome here any time. We've heard so many great things about you from Ginny!" Molly cheered. You and Ginny locked eyes, sharing a sincere look of happiness.

As Arthur carried your bags to your new room, you saw four familiar faces coming down the stairs. "Y/N, I’m sure you already know who they are, but let me re-introduce you so you feel welcomed," Molly said, pointing to each boy in turn. "This is Percy, Fred, George, and Ron." "Bill and Charlie both moved out," she added, "which is why they aren’t here now."

All four boys offered you soft smiles, welcoming you for the summer. "Alright, boys, go on. Ron, stay," she ordered. Ron swallowed, assuming he’d done something wrong. Was he really going to get scolded in front of the new girl right now? But before he could worry too much, his mother’s next words cleared up the situation. "Ron, if you don’t mind, would you please help Y/N settle in? I left her belongings in your room; you’ll both share the space."

Ron’s eyes widened at the statement, and for a moment, yours did too. You had assumed you'd have your own room, and the idea of sharing one with someone you hadn’t spoken to yet left you feeling uneasy. It can't be that bad, you thought. You and Ron exchanged weak smiles when your names were mentioned.

At this point, Ginny went upstairs, and Molly and Arthur went to work in the garden, leaving you and Ron alone. An awkward silence hung in the air until he finally spoke. "Well... shall we start getting you settled?" he asked.

"Yep!" you replied, relieved that your journey here had officially begun.

Before leading you to your shared room, Ron briefly pointed out the main rooms in the house—such as the kitchen, bathroom, and other essential spaces. Finally, it was time to see the room, which you figured you’d be spending most of your time in anyway. As you both walked in, you took in the details.

The room was fairly small, with most of it scattered with spell books, Chudley Cannons posters, Quidditch gear, chess sets, and various family hand-me-downs. In the corner stood a bunk bed—the spot where the two of you would sleep. The room had a strong aura of warmth and coziness, a stark contrast to your own room, which had a sleek, modern vibe.

To your surprise, you actually liked his room. Despite the mess, it felt like home—though not your own home. This was a new home, one you would adapt to over time. "I know it's not much, but—" Ron started, but you cut him off. "No, I love it. This place is awesome. I reckon I’m going to like it here." You glanced around again, taking in every detail and piece of decoration. "Well, I’m glad you like it. I usually spend most of my time here anyway," Ron said. "Oh yeah? I would too, I might as well," you replied, making eye contact with him. "Y’know, you seem like you’d be a pretty decent roomie." His words made you blush slightly, but you quickly hid it. You were already beginning to appreciate his company.

A month had already gone by, and everything was going splendidly. You were familiar with the house now, knowing where every room was, and you had gotten along with everyone—especially your new roommate.

Every so often, Molly would ask you to help with the gardening, and Ron would join you. He’d also lend a hand with making dinner and setting the table. Though you and Ron didn’t talk much during school, moments like these made you wonder how your friendship might have turned out if you'd befriended him sooner.

Despite the good times, you and Ron still bickered quite often—but always in a playful way.

"Y/N! Did you take my shirt again?" Ron yelled from his bedroom. You could hear him clearly from the kitchen.

"No!" you shouted back, glancing down at the shirt you were wearing. It was, in fact, Ron’s. His shirts had a particular scent, one that charmed you. The smell was like warm vanilla, with a hint of ground cinnamon. It smelled so good, it was hard to resist.

It felt strange wearing your now-best friend and roommate’s shirt, but you couldn’t help being drawn to his scent.

"Then where the bloody hell is it?!" Ron continued yelling, now coming down the stairs and spotting you in his shirt.

For a moment, he didn’t even register that you were wearing it. Instead, it was your figure that caught his attention. The way your shorts and shirt accentuated your shape made him feel as though he were gazing at a divine being. Your hair, your face, your body—everything about you captivated him. Who knew you could look so good in his shirt?

"Merlin…" he thought, before snapping back to reality. "I knew you were lying! That’s my shirt!" he shrieked, charging towards you and playfully tackling you onto the couch. You couldn’t escape his embrace—his strong arms held you firmly in place, giving him full control over you.

You laughed as he whined, "Y/N, I’m not letting you go until you give me my shirt back." It was amusing to see him so desperate over a simple piece of clothing.

"Oh, piss off, Ron! And I noticed the way you looked at me when you first saw it. You bet it’s not coming off," you said, emphasizing the word bet.

"You’re not going anywhere then," he replied, still holding you close. You felt the back of your head hit his chest before responding, "That means you aren’t either."

You both chuckled and sat in silence for a few moments, processing the tension. Eventually, you both dozed off on the couch, still in the same position.

While you and Ron were sleeping, Fred and George noticed and exchanged a 'we’re never gonna let him forget about this' kind of grin. But this time, they decided to spare Ron the embarrassment and let him continue sleeping with you.

𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

And just like that, summer was nearly over. In a week, you'd be back at Hogwarts—away from your new home and the one you'd nearly forgotten. The Burrow had given you a new sense of what 'home' truly felt like, and you loved it dearly.

The last thing you wanted was to be away from the Burrow, knowing it would leave you feeling empty. This summer made you realize just how lucky every one of Molly’s children was to have such loving parents, and despite the house not being fancy or immaculate, it truly felt like home. Everything about it was comforting.

Your mind was in a scramble, the thought of leaving clouding your thoughts. To blow off some stress, you decided to visit a spot you’d discovered during your first few weeks at the Burrow—a nearby pond. It was especially beautiful at night, with the stars in the sky and the moon reflecting its light on the water.

You sat down on the grass and let out a deep sigh until you heard footsteps behind you. Turning your head, you saw your red-headed roommate. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked. "Not at all," you replied. Although you had hoped for a peaceful moment, you didn’t mind his presence.

The sound of crickets and night owls, along with the view of the moonlit pond, was breathtaking. You both sat in silence, taking in the beauty. It was rare for you and Ron to have a quiet moment like this; you were usually either bickering or laughing your heads off. But something about this moment felt magical. Unlike anything you had ever experienced with anyone.

You glanced over at Ron, trying not to make it obvious. You hadn’t realized how beautiful his features were—his perfectly upturned nose, soft orange locks of hair, and the way the moonlight reflected in his crystal blue eyes. He was just as breathtaking as the view you had been looking at moments ago.

Your eyes darted back to the pond, but made their way back to Ron as he said your name. "Y/N, it was really nice having you here at the Burrow this summer. I never really wanted a roommate, but you turned out to be the best one ever. Honestly, you made this whole experience so much better." Ron shyly spoke.

"You were a very good roommate too. I’m really gonna miss this. This place felt even better than my actual home; it’s so much more lively here. A-and frankly, I don’t know what it’ll be like without it," you said, your breath shaking. Hearing the tremor in your voice, Ron threw his arm around your shoulder and moved closer to you. You missed being this close to him. You missed his touch.

"You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," he said. Your eyes widened—such a bold statement. Did he really enjoy your company that much? You glanced at him, still processing what he’d just said.

You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t focus only on his eyes, not when you suddenly craved every part of his face—especially his lips.

You could see he was doing the same; his eyes shifted to your lips. Oh gosh, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You couldn’t go another second without tasting him.

As if he read your mind, Ron inched closer, closing the gap between you, until your lips finally met.

Your lips moved in sync, tasting each other’s mouths. This was what you’d been craving, and you finally had it.

His arm slid off your shoulder and landed on the grass, supporting his upper body. His other hand found its way behind your head, gently tugging at your hair, earning a small whine from you.

Still not breaking the kiss, you straddled onto his lap, one hand tangled in his hair while the other rested on his cheek. It’s safe to say you’d earned yourself a boyfriend for the upcoming year at Hogwarts.

This had been your best summer ever—summer at the Burrow.

[burntblueberrywaffles]

thanks for the tag!

*THE TBOSAS ERA VERSION ONLY THG PRESIDENT SNOW CAN ROT AND DIE (I love the version of him that could have had a redemption arc, canon can’t hurt me if I stay in denial ❤️❤️❤️)

Gonna tag @crazyexshipper @unlifeira @darkacademiaburnout @fangeek-girl @nonamemanga @realmermaid333 @ourdramaqueen and @megala-theia-praxidike

also I didn’t read that I should only tag 5 ppl until after so I’m leaving this as is, I already only pick a handful of mutuals for each tag game 😭

RULES: make a poll with 5 of your all-time favourite characters and then tag 5 people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite! (tagged by @neverbesokind 💜)

NP tags: @dearreader @undersomeonesbed @parisbytaylorswift @dam-bluecookies @drivemysoul

[ceilidho]

Do you have any advice for a novice writer who can’t for the life of them figure out how to begin a story and/or scene? I’ve been slowly working on a novel in my free time for the last couple of years, and I feel like I have a decently solid plot and outline, but every time I go to start the actual process of putting words on paper I always get stuck. I’ve gone back and read the first few pages/chapters of other fantasy books to see how published authors do it, but I can never seem to find the right words or starting point that feels authentic and fitting to my own work. It always feels so clunky and out of place, and although I try to follow the ‘rule’ of starting the story in the middle of the action/a moment of change so that it doesn’t feel boring, nothing I come up with seems to help things flow into the beginning of the plot :/

ugh that's hard because actually forcing yourself to write is truly the hardest part. a lot of it is just nerves. like genuinely you're just experiencing stage fright.

that's why i love using tumblr as a micro-writing platform. when i make stupid little posts here, it feels low effort and i don't attach any anxiety to it, and actually that helps a lot when later on i take bits and pieces of stuff i've written here and add it to larger works (if you were following me when I was actively writing "landscape with honey" or "superstore" you'll remember i took a lot of asks that i'd already answered and just shoved them into the fic).

i highly recommend making a word cloud or vocabulary list for yourself if you're trying to cultivate a specific atmosphere as well. i have one on my phone for random words that i want to use.

then i think it might be helpful for you to try and break it down piece by piece. like if you have a scene where a character is packing a suitcase in order to catch a train, just focus on the first part where they're packing their belongings. there isn't a 'right' way to start a story or write something, so don't beat yourself up because the paragraph/sentence doesn't match perfectly what's in your head. the first draft is always going to be rough as well.

try to think of it like when an artist starts a piece. usually they start with simple shapes that they slowly add on to. you can think of your first draft kind of like this:

(image source)

[hcaeh]

mew ^3^

chap.iv | THE SAME AIR. [wc.1.3k]

interview time ^0^

you anxiously sit cross legged in the back room, waiting to be called into the interview. you did find it a bit strange that there were three other men with you..and that you were all being called in at once. a few minutes pass and a black haired male comes out of the office with a pen and pad. “yn, jeno, jisung and taehyun?” he calls out. you look up, as well as the other guys with you. you all nod in sync as a response. “great! i’m chenle, one of the instructors today.” he says, smile plastered on his face, “follow me back here, i’ll get you all settled in.” you get up and follow behind the ‘pack’ of men in front of you. when you enter the office you’re hit with a strong scent of hibiscus and mint. “take a seat over here.” chenle leads you all to a sofa.

you four sit down, waiting for the next instruction. “first, we want to build a team here. one that the cats, and customers can rely on for support.” he begins, “so i’d like all of you to get to know each other more! take some time to introduce yourselves.” you look over at the boys next to you with a slight concerned look. this isn’t exactly what you signed up for, jaemin wasn’t even anywhere in sight. you were slowly starting to regret this. but out of respect you nod and do what chenle has said. the tallest one, yet shyest it seemed began. “uh..hello, i’m jisung..mm, nice to..meet you all?” he speaks slowly, yet his voice is so soothing.

the rest of you greet him, then another one goes next. “hi, hopefully future coworkers. i’m jeno, great to be here!” he says with a smile on his face. you like his energy, he seems very kind and playful. someone you’d enjoy working with. and finally the last among the group introduces himself, “i’m taehyun. i guess it’s good to meet you all..uh, yeah.” he was very bland and straight forward. it somewhat intimidated you but..now it was your turn.

“ah..hello. i’m yn, it’d be a pleasure to work with all of you.” you say softly, yet a small smile on your face. you really didn’t want a job at the moment, but for some reason that stupid worker was calling your name. yet he wasn’t even here. “okay! well, bonding and communication..can be worked on later.” chenle says with an awkward chuckle. “how about i tell you all the rules and then i’ll pass you onto the next section?” you all nod and give your attention to him

he gives the basics of the rules, a run down of what to expect, and how to keep the cafe a safe place for everyone. once he finishes he stands up and opens the door, “everyone can go through here. you’ll meet the next staff member and the cats while you’re here.” you all stand up and go into the next room. you four stand awkwardly in a clump while waiting for the worker to show up. you hear arguing and rustling towards the back of the room, you look around to see if anyone else noticed it. when you were about to ask something the door flung open and two people came out still looking angry with each other.

your heart rapidly started beating as you saw blond hair and a tall figures back facing you. when the two turned around you were somewhat relieved and somewhat nervous to see jaemin. you couldn’t help but smile a bit in relief that he was going to be here today. “hi! sorry for the delay, someone doesn’t know how to do their job.” the girl says glancing over at jaemin. you can’t help but notice jeno chuckling with jisung as the girl and jaemin bickered with each other. you felt strange, like something was up. “anyways, i’m gowon! i’ll be showing you around here.” she says with a smile.

“i’m jaemin, i’ll introduce you to the cats and the functions of the equipment, food, and much more.” he says, looking directly at you. your heart flutters as you continue to keep eye contact with him. he quickly breaks it to continue his words.

the walk through has passed, everyone seemed pretty tired at this point. you had already had your one on one meeting with another employee named sungchan. by now it was 6:30 and getting dark. you bid your goodbyes to everyone who helped and the other guys who were with you applying. you sit outside of the cafe waiting for mark to arrive with your ride, ten minutes pass and he still wasn’t there. you began getting anxious and uncomfortable seeing as the employees were still closing the cafe and everyone else was gone. you tried calling mark but there was no answer.

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” you sigh out, feeling defeated. you don’t know what to do, your ride isn’t picking up or with a sight to be found. you contemplate going into the cafe and asking one of them for a ride. honestly it was your last option of getting home safely, you walk back up to the cafe’s doors opening them quietly. that stupid cafe bell at the door just had to ring alerting the employees behind the counter. they all turn to you, you stood there awkwardly not knowing what to say now. “oh hey yn, what’s up?” chenle asks, “what brings you back?” you sigh in deeply before beginning to speak, “i know we’ve only just met..but my ride isn’t picking up and he’s not even close to here..” you pause, “would it be too much to ask one of you for a ride home?”

they all look at each other, back at you, then to jaemin. “jaemin can!” gowon says, “he’s about to leave anyways, right?” she says, glaring at him. jaemin looks at her with a confused look, but quickly catches onto what she’s implying. “ah, yes! i am. i can take you home yn.” he replies. you can’t believe your ears, jaemin, taking you home? you barely even know this guy yet your heart is beating rapidly and excitement fills your body. “thank you, really.” you say smiling at him. “no worries, let me get my bag and i’ll meet you in the front.” you nod and exit the cafe once more.

you stand nervously at the curb outside the cafe, waiting for jaemin to pull up. a few minutes pass and you see a white car pull up to you, the window rolls down and reveals jaemin. “you can come in,” he says unlocking the car doors. you nod and open the passenger seat sitting down hesitantly. you buckle in and quickly glance over at jaemin. “thanks again.” you mumble. he smiles while focusing on the road in front of him, “it’s my pleasure really. you did a great job today by the way, i’m sure everyones gonna agree to having you.” he replies. you can’t help but blush at his compliment, you mumble out a ‘thank you’ while hiding your face a bit so that he can’t see your red cheeks. the ride feels tense, not in a bad way but just really awkward.

you both arrived to your home, he parks his car right in front of your driveway so that you have a safe route in. “well..thank you! i hope to see you soon.” you say opening the car door and stepping out, “you too yn, stay safe tonight!” he says before you close the door and wave to him through the window. you quickly run inside your house and close the door behind you. you can’t help but squeal into your hands and smile like a dork at the night you’ve had.

taglist (open) : @prettyrenjunn @sweetcandycum @swee7dream @lovesuhng @n0hyuck @sunflowerbebe07 @lostinneocity @222brainrot @ms-no1kpopstan @choerubies @pnkified @odxrilove @sunghoonsgfreal @njmluvr @sinsgaybutthatsokay @nasangel @buns-inhiding @seunghancore @clean-soap @aggtslva @h-aecat @savluvsmingi

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[eg4mccc]

First Call, Sims 4 Infants Patch is Coming Soon!!

(graphic credit: Bonxie)

It's almost time, the Infants are Coming!! Before the patch on March 14 breaks mods and custom content in preparation for the March 16 Sims 4 Growing Together expansion pack, I thought I'd run through a few things you'll need to know about, ahead of time.

When you load up after the patch, Mods and CC are going to be disabled by EA. This is fine, we're expecting a lot of things to break, and this time, it most likely will include MCCC.

We on Deaderpool's Discord recommend taking all of your mods/cc OUT, not leaving them sitting "turned off" (disabled) in your Mods folder. There's no guarantee the game can't see them anyway, so for the cleanest test, we always say to move the files out into a folder on the Desktop. You need this "game only" benchmark to see how things are supposed to behave, or to see if what isn't working properly is a problem in the game code, itself. 

Most of the time, we would actually recommend a "mc-vanilla" test, which means to ONLY leave MCCC in your mods folder... but in the case of a Big Patch, until Deaderpool has a chance to evaluate (and hotfix) MCCC for code changes that might cause the mod to give you unexpected issues in game, "true vanilla" (mod/cc free) would be where to start testing.

By the way, if you need help getting your files organized ahead of the patch, you can find a downloadable Mods folder template here, courtesy of Shino Nox.

Without benefit of MCCC's mc_lastexception.html error file to help dig for errors, once you have your game-only test run completed, the next thing to do would be a 50/50. Make a copy of your save file, to safeguard against accidentally saving while your mods and cc are not in the game. (Don't worry, if you DO happen to save your main file this way, just come right away and ask us on Discord how to recover from it.)

One tip we've learned over the years is that you might be able to rule out entire sections of files with two basic tests: 

One test with all of your cc & no mods (except MCCC, as long as it's working properly)

One test with all of your script/game-changing mods, and none of your extra custom content. (You would need to keep all of a mod's pieces together, both ts4script and package files.)

If either test results in any kind of error, you'll need to drill down through those files with the 50/50 technique, to find what's broken.

Luth's forum posts and Scarlet's mod list are both excellent resources. You may notice I'm not linking to any specific forum post. The reason is, Luth/luthienrising starts new patch threads in the section I did link, as needed. You'll be able to spot it once she has created it.

Last month, our team on Discord celebrated our sixth anniversary of helping players.  Don't panic once the patch is live, just swing by and see us for help.  If you can't get in, because you've been banned for some reason, our appeal process is outlined here. 

Most questions you might have are probably answered in the #server-info channel. PLEASE read it, before approaching us in support. It will make everything easier, for both of us. 

Thanks for your time, and, good luck with the patch!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for requesting my boyfriend to be more affectionate with me?

(🪴 for identification)

I'll try to keep this as brief as I possibly can. I (25F) have been living with my partner of 5 years (26M) for around 1 entire year. We share the rent of the apartment and prices of anything else the house needs, but otherwise we buy whatever we need ourselves.

I am in my second year of college while he's on his third. Our relationship never had many issues as we always were good at communicating and never tried to let issues get to us, but in recent months things have been getting harder for me to deal with.

Our rule was to usually keep saturdays free from work and studying to spend time with each other. This might sound dumb to some people, but judging as we both have to study and work during week days and I am a sensitive person I always found it necessary to have a day we can just stay with one another. He knows the importance of this for me as he was there with me during my bpd diagnosis and is also fully aware of how badly one of my exes fucked me up, so for all those past years in our relationship he was always loving and attentive to me, something which me and any of my friends can attest to.

However, in recent weeks (I'd say since around the middle of january?) he's been clearly avoiding me. I've tried to talk to him about whatever may be happening and he just said he's been focusing on studying for uni which is fully understandable and good! However, last week I asked him if we could spend this saturday (feb 24) together since I've been heavily missing him and he's possibly aware of that as he's mentioned my current behavior is off from my usual. (I almost told him he's the same, but I held off)

To my request, he replied he can't since he already promised a mutual friend of ours he'd be going to help him with something, to which I asked if I could join them! Again, it's a mutual friend so I didn't feel anything was wrong with that, but apparently I was intruding into his life and should let him have some time for himself.

Here is where I might be the asshole. After him acting cold to me for weeks and using the excuse that "he was busy, of course he can't be all warm and kind to me when he's stressed" (which mentally I called bullshit as I was doing the same things as him plus volunteering at the nearby school to help the kids and still kept trying to be affectionate), I snapped and said that if I'm his girlfriend, he should at least give me some affection and love (in a slightly louder tone of voice). I know anger issues have been a constant ever since before my diagnosis, but I've been keeping them somewhat under control since I began therapy, so I didn't break anything or hurt either of us, but I know my anger always scared him. He got defensive and said he loves me but is just busy and can't act affectionately towards me when he's constantly stressed, to which I replied that well, so am I but it didn't stop me from continuing to put effort into our relationship. After getting the cold shoulder from him for all those weeks I finally cried and locked myself into my room afterwards, packing to stay with my closest friend after I texted her if I could stay for a bit.

I'm currently with her and she's been making sure I'm comfortable and alright, trying to make time for us to watch things together or simply talk while I'm here so I don't feel so lonely. He has been texting me from a variety of things such as apologies to him trying to justify he was busy and stressed so of course he'd act cold to me. I've been replying to him, but after he called me overdramatic in one of the texts I've come back to ignoring him.

I don't want to throw out all our years together like this, but I still feel hurt and ignored by him from those weeks. I know we will have to talk sooner or later but currently I'm still scared of doing so.

So, am I the asshole for asking my partner to give me some attention? This isn't the first time this has happened, but definitely the first one it went this far and I feel that it's fully on me, for context.

What are these acronyms?

[ivymarquis]

Under My Skin

Pairing| Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Rating| M Content/Warnings| Angst, smut, miscommunication trope, two idiots in love

My contribution to @glitterypirateduck’s Gazfest! Squeaking in at the last second as per usual because nothing motivates me like a deadline

One Shot + “You’re not going out in that”

The setting would be romantic in another situation.

Rain is not at all an uncommon sight, especially at this time of year. All day the weather’s been dreary and drizzling.

Here, now that the sun dips below the horizon as the rain picks up- the dull lighting is cozy and you’ve gone and done the exact same thing you always do.

You’ll never figure it out, will you?

That would require learning from your mistakes, though, and Kyle Garrick is one habit you can’t bring yourself to break.

But when you’re on your back underneath him, knees drawn up as your ankles lock behind his waist-

You can trick yourself into thinking this is more than what it is.

What had started as a one night stand has become a situationship of sorts. He doesn’t tell you the dirty details of his job but his phone can go off at any point and that’s the end of the time you had with him.

His absence gnaws at you far more than you’ll ever care to admit- that would break the rules. Even with him buried as far in you as he can be, the anxiety of knowing this won’t last interferes with your ability to enjoy the present.

Everything you want is tangible and in your hands. You want him, and for tonight- for right now- you have him.

He holds you like he’s missed you over the past weeks.

You both said you wanted to keep this simple with no strings attached. That was before when you hadn’t known him as a person. Before, bit by bit, you learn his quirks and idiosyncrasies.

Simple has, at some point and without warning, packed her bags and runs clear out the door- never to be seen or heard from again. There are most assuredly strings where there should not be.

Fortune favors the bold but you are a coward. Too afraid to ask for what you want- what you delude yourself into thinking you can take in another life.

So you try.

Try to ignore the voice in the back of your head. Try to ignore that little incessant something eating away at you.

Try to enjoy the time you have with him, because you’ll never know if the last time is the last time.

It would be easier, you think, if he was like any number of your prior partners. Greedy. Self centered.

Kyle is giving and kind and attentive.

He reads your body language and verbal cues as easily as a book- knocks the air out of your lung with each stroke once he’s hit his stride. You’re helpless to do much more than cling to him, nails marking up his back in pleasure. If anything the scratches seem to spur him on.

“Kyle please- oh fuck-” your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure as he gets you almost to the precipice.

The rain builds outside much like you do.

“You getting close, doll?” It’s a rhetorical question, surely. Kyle knows your tells at this point, the way your body clutches and clings to his, the way you have to force your breathing to be steady.

“Yes!” Your answer is a wail that, were you in your right mind, would be embarrassing. As it is, your only focus is on the growing knot in your gut, the fire stoked with each wet thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs.

“Come on then, pretty girl,” he goads, one hand slipping between your bodies as the other supports both of your weight. “Cum for me, be a good girl,”

You would do anything for him. If you had a shred of shame or dignity left it would be embarrassing. As it is, he’s got you wound so tight it takes virtually nothing- just a few firm, steady circles of his thumb around your clit- to get you seeing white and clutching to him with a whine.

Your thighs are shaking as he works you through your orgasm, lips locked with yours as his thrusts sharpen for a few cants before stilling entirely as he fills the condom he barely remembered to put on earlier.

He’s always slow to work the pair of you down. You relish in the attention, how his warm hands span the length of your back, roaming down to squeeze the flesh of your hip or cup your bottom before trailing his fingertips back up and leaving you a trembling mess.

It’s later, once the pair of you have cleaned up that you start gathering your things. The rain still pelts down outside- you’ll need to be careful, but you’re certain you can make it home in one piece.

Neither of you stay the night at the others. You have your fun, pray he doesn’t get a phone call in the middle of things, get your clothes, and leave.

“Where are you going?”

You pause, finishing righting yourself after bending over to grab your bra.

“Home?” It shouldn’t be a question. You are going home. You’ve always gone home.

He shakes his head.

“You’re not going out in that.” Decision made, case closed, conversation over. Like it’s the most normal thing in the world. That you routinely wait out bad weather with him.

“Here, I’ve got a shirt you can borrow somewhere,”

You stare at him like a deer in headlights. Not that the thought of him being kind to you is such an unimaginable concept.

But there are boundaries- rules of engagement- that the pair of you agreed to at the beginning of this all these months ago. To keep things unmuddled and uncomplicated.

It’s a simple interaction, the way you follow him to his closet. You could easily insist on wearing your clothes- there’s nothing wrong with them.

But there’s a gesture in the way he hands you a shirt that’s several sizes too big for you.

Maybe Kyle wants more too.

[hunterthecharmer]

Unexpected - Part 6

Thank you for being patient with me on this :) please give me any feedback or ideas/suggestions!

Since the convention has come to an end with this chapter, we will be moving on to focus on GP x reader's relationship (I am so excited!) these will feel more like fics/one shots going forward since a lot of the context has been built.

Summary: You work for an events company and end up being assigned as a talent handler for a 2 week long convention. Your co-worker ends up assigned to Glen Powell, but you catch his eye. Can you remain professional and keep him from knowing you're actually a pretty big fan of his?

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

“Can you believe it’s the last day? It’s been an incredible experience but I really miss my bed.” Savannah whines as she assists you in smoothing out the tablecloths. You and the rest of the staff were in the middle of setting up the large event space for the special brunch for the talent’s final day. The grounds had been freshly mowed the night before and the weather was crisp outside. 

The chefs had been working since 5am on the spread; homemade biscuits, jams, eggs of all kinds, bacon and other bacon substitutes, pancakes, belgian waffles…the list was a page and a half long. All of the guests were also attending a final acting class together, a group dinner with a special screening of some sort, with a campfire to end the day. The campfire was also for the staff as well, and there would be an open bar. 

“Do you think Glen will sit next to you tonight?” Savannah’s question brings a smile to your face. “I hope so. It’ll be my last chance to see him before the shuttles take them to the airport tomorrow.” 

You frown at the realization, you had no way to get in contact with Glen outside of here other than a direct message on instagram. He probably had a hundred messages a day, no doubt. You had his number for the brief time you were in charge of him, but that was on Savannah’s work phone, which had to be turned in by midnight tonight. Same with yours. Otherwise, you had no way to contact any of the guests after today, and the contract all of you signed before coming here was very clear on their ‘do not write down any of the talent’s personal information rule.

----

The brunch goes off without a hitch, the talent enjoying their lesson whole scarfing down the large layout of food. You and the rest of the handlers enjoyed your own breakfasts in one of the trailers, thankful that instead of your regular options of boiled eggs or yogurt parfaits it was catered from Starbucks.

The rest of the afternoon is packed with breaking down the other event spaces that aren't being used, folding up all the chairs and packing up the event signs you had brought. Lugging all the heavy items across the lawn all day had tired you out, so the second everything was packed up you took yourself directly back to your cabin to take a nap before the bonfire.

You all but slam the door behind you, slipping out of your Ugg boots while simultaneously shrugging off your Ignite crew neck and scarf. After slipping under the comforter, you plug your phone into the charger and set an alarm, giving yourself an hour to rest. You didn’t mind arriving at the event a little late if it meant you’d have some energy back.

….

Savannah’s POV

“She’s not answering my calls, are you sure she said she was coming tonight?” Dylan asks, shaking his head as he locks his phone after dialing a third time. 

“I swear she did! She’s been excited for the bonfire all day. We worked our butts off, maybe she took a nap? I know she disappeared earlier..” her voice trails off, wondering if you were okay. She stirs her drink, lowering her gaze to the flames in front of her. Glen’s eyes catch hers, the expression on his face unreadable.

 “Did you need me to grab you another smore?” Savannah asks, starting to stand from her chair. He chuckles, throwing his head back, “I’ve already had 3, are you trying to make my trainer hate me?”

She laughs along with him as she settles back into her seat. She notices his gaze sweeping around the lawn again, just as he had done too many times to count in the last hour.

Pulling her phone out of her jeans pocket she dials you again, muttering to herself that she hopes you pick up.

“Thank you.” is all you hear on the other end of the line, your friend’s voice extremely raspy. 

“Hurry up and get yourself down here! You’re missing the fire and it’s our last night.” She playfully yells into the phone before hanging up on you.

“She’ll be here soon.”

----

You rub the ball of your palm into your eyelid, squinting at the time. Apparently you had snoozed your alarm multiple times, missing the first hour or so of the event. 

You hurriedly throw the blankets off of you and flatten your hair in the mirror, deciding to throw it into a messy ponytail to conceal the frizz. Grabbing an oversized cardigan from your suitcase on the floor, you take your perfume lying in the compartment next to it and spritz some around your neck and down your arms to your wrists. 

You then step into your uggs for the second time that day and sprint out the door to your golf cart.

“She decided to grace us with her presence at last.” Dylan teases you, standing from his seat to give you a hug as you stroll up to him and Savannah. You take note of the others seated with them, Glen being one of them. You feel your heart flutter, hoping there was an empty chair available next to him.

“Sorry guys, I totally snoozed my alarm. I was exhausted after tearing everything down today! Sav, how are you still going?” you bend down in front of her to shake her shoulders and she giggles, but you can see how heavy her eyes are. 

“I definitely circled back to the Starbucks after everyone got their drinks and grabbed an extra iced coffee when no one was watching. I knew it’d be a long day.”

The group commends her, playfully clapping as she bows her head proudly. 

You turn around toward Glen and shoot him a shy smile over the fire, his green eyes shining at you. He hooks a finger and gestures for you to come over to him, so you do.

“Well hello.” He says lowly once you’re within earshot, his hands tapping his lap as you realize there isn’t an empty chair left for you. Your eyes widen and you step back from him slightly, nervously looking around at the group. Out of your peripheral you notice his expression falter slightly, but he recovers quickly. “Here, take my seat! I’ll go find another one.”

Glen jumps up, pointing at the chair before heading off towards other groups on the line.

You feel your heart sink as you sit down, eyes following after him. He didn’t really think you’d sit on his lap did he? You were technically still working, and all the staff was around. It was the last night though, so maybe it would have been fine. You were so embarrassed, you hoped it wouldn't come up again.

He returns quickly, wedging his chair between you and another guest. You feel your shoulders relax as he leans back in his seat, falling into conversation with the others. You can’t rip your gaze from his face, watching as the flames illuminate his features. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, his hand gestures as he talks bringing you in even more. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Savannah whispers into your ear, her sudden presence from behind startling you. She hands you a smore wrapped in a paper towel before rounding the group back to her seat.

You take a bite of the gooey treat, wiping the crumbs from the graham crackers off your lips. When you notice Glen’s eyes on you, you freeze. 

“Hi.” He silently mouths, lips turning up into a smile. You feel your expression soften at him as you mouth back to him, “Missed you.”

To this he feigns surprise, pointing to his chest before leaning toward you over the armchair.

“Ditto, pretty girl.”

Your heart melts as you lean toward him, chin propped on your hand as you both lock eyes. You felt like you were 17 again, giddily smiling at your school crush. “Did you enjoy your last day of the convention?”

Glen nods, flashing his journal at you from beneath his chair, thumbing quickly through the pages to show pages upon pages full of his handwriting. You hum proudly at him, impressed.

“Which film did they have you guys analyze at dinner?”

He fills you in on the event, what they watched and everyone’s feedback and interpretations. Apparently everyone passed the surprise quiz at the end, and he raved about the menu.

The two of you continue to talk for the next while, unaware that some of the members of your circle, including Dylan, had gotten up and moved around the lawn to switch places with other guests. The seat next to Glen was now occupied by a heavy set male, not anyone you recognized. You could smell the alcohol on him from where you sat, but you only noticed it - you were fully focused on the sandy blonde haired guy next to you. 

His southern accent rises above the multiple conversations happening around the fire in an aggravated tone. “Anyone else get cut off from the bartender tonight?”

Everyone’s attention falls on him, shaking their heads no. He huffs, “Just me, huh? I’ve only had three beers, I don’t get it. I’m fine! I’m just trying to enjoy the last night here for crying out loud. Hey, you work here right? Can’t you get me another?”

His eyes are now on you in anticipation. You peer past Glen to meet his bloodshot eyes, “Um, if he cut you off there’s nothing I can do. Sorry friend!’ You give him a sympathetic smile, glancing around for someone with a lanyard with his face on it. “What’s your name? Maybe your handler can talk to-”

“The name’s Johnny Curtis. And I’d really appreciate that, darlin’.” He drawls before downing the last of his drink from the can. 

“Be right back, gang!” you jump up from your chair and meander through the grass to the registration building. You flip through the binder behind the desk, finding the name and number of Johnny’s handler. She answers after a few rings, “Hi, this is Megan?”

“Hi! Don’t worry, I’m working this event too. I’m sitting with Johnny and it looks like the bartender cut him off, so he’s a little upset. Can you meet me at the bar?” She agrees and you head back outside.

The two of you try to reason with the bartender, but he won’t budge. “You ladies don’t understand, this guy was a little rowdy at the event a few nights ago. He’s getting real close to his limit, just take him a spiked seltzer. That’s the best I can do.” He throws his hands up before sliding a can across the tabletop to you. 

“I’m sorry, he wanted to chat with the other guests before leaving tomorrow, I didn’t think he’d try to cause a problem. He’s really sweet!” the other girl says, and you grab her arm in reassurance. “Don’t even worry about it, he’s fine. I’ll show you where we’re at!”

She follows close behind you through the lawn, Johnny’s face lighting up as soon as he sees her. “Thanks Meg! I knew you’d make it happen for me.” She grins, handing him the beverage. She chats quietly with him as you take your seat again, Glen’s warm hand squeezing yours as you do. “All good?” 

You nod at him, waving to Megan as she leaves the group.

“Now what in the world is this sorry excuse for alcohol? Did y’all really bring me back a girly drink?”

Johnny’s voice is a mix of irritability and playfulness as he runs a hand through his dark head of hair. Glen turns to face him this time, reading the label on the can. 

“Ah, Ranch Water. They are pretty good man! You oughta give it a try.” He offers, and Johnny gives him a look, eyebrow raised as he takes another long sip.

It’s silent for a moment around the fire before everyone returns to their sidebar conversations.

A few moments pass before Johnny spits his drink out near his feet, Savannah’s lip turning up in disgust. “I’m not finishing this.” he mumbles, before tossing the half full can into the flames.

Others in the circle gasp, “Dude, you aren’t supposed to do that. It’ll explode!”

In an instant, the can pops and tiny pieces of aluminum come flying out of the fire. 

A burning sensation causes a hand to fly up to your cheek, fingers landing on a hot scrap of aluminum near your cornea. You let out a shriek as pain begins to spread down to your under eye area, and you instinctively jump up out of your chair, almost tripping over your feet. 

Holding a hand over your right eye you make a beeline for the bathroom, a pair of silent footsteps following close behind you. 

Once you burst through the door, you lower your hand as you stare into the mirror. You let out a sigh of relief at your eye still being intact with no bleeding or anything. Your tear duct and cornea were extremely red and puffy, but that was about it. A dark greyish black sludge had dried onto your cheek.

Your eyes meet Savannah who is standing right next to you, her face ashen. “Are you alright? I’m gonna get him in so much trouble for that. He really could have injured you or someone else!”

You try to mask your disappointment that Glen hadn’t been the one to follow you as you take a paper towel from Savannah, drenching it in cold water before wiping at your cheek to remove the stinging mess from your face. “It could have been a lot worse.” your voice is small.

After a few moments, your face is clean again and the burning sensation has subsided even though the irritation to your cornea hasn’t. 

You turn around to face your friend, exhaling deeply. “Let’s get back out there, I want to say goodbye to everyone before turning in for the night.”

Savannah nods before pulling you in for a hug. She follows you out the door, but runs into you as you stop short - Glen is standing outside the building. 

“Are you okay?” His expression is pained as he reaches to hold your face, inspecting your eyes.

Savannah excuses herself to head back to the bonfire.

“I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.” you say, shoulders sagging a bit. You wrap an arm around his bicep, moving closer to him. He places his index finger and thumb above and below your right eye as he gives it a final look before peppering your face with kisses, careful to avoid the area. You scrunch your nose at the affection, giggling as you now grip both of his arms. He plants a final feather-like kiss to the spot just below the corner of your eye and it makes you swoon. He was being so gentle and sweet.

“All better.” You beam up at him before tugging him toward your golf cart. 

“For what it’s worth, I definitely told that guy off. What a jackass, throwing a half empty can of alcohol into the fire like that. He could’ve taken you or anyone else’s eye out!”

You laugh. “Yeah, what an idiot.”

Glen convinces you to let him drive you back to your cabin, insisting on walking back to his cabin afterward since you had to turn in the cart first thing the next morning. Always the gentleman!

As you take off, a twinge of sadness in your chest as you realize this is the last golf cart ride you’ll take together. You focus hard to take in every detail of his face, the scent of his cologne, the way his green eyes look at you. The sound of your laughs mixing together as he swerves all over the path without a care in the world. 

As soon as the cart is in park you muster up the last of your bravery where he is concerned and wrap your arms around his neck to press a kiss to his cheek. He smiles as he turns his head and kisses you softly. He runs a hand through your hair while the other rests on your collarbone. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, his lips tasting like a mixture of chocolate and alcohol. You hear multiple carts fly past but you can’t bring yourself to care - you had done your job these last two weeks and had a can explode on you tonight. Plus, this was your last moment with Glen freaking Powell. No way were you about to pull away from him right now. 

He finally pulls away, both of you breathless. “By the way,” he looks out at the others walking to their cabins in the dark, making sure you both aren’t being watched, “are you going to add me back or not?” 

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Add you back? What are you talking about?”

He grabs his phone out of his back pocket and holds it in front of your face. 

“Check it.” He grins. 

You slide your phone out of your pocket and unlock it, opening up Instagram to find a follow request from the man sitting next to you.

You tilt your head to the side, deciding to tease him. “Hmm I don’t know, do I really want to allow you access to my amazing photos?” You wink at him before pressing the blue confirm button.

“You were already following me, sorry it took me this long to add you back.” He jokes, but your breath hitches. Oh no - hopefully he doesn’t think much of it.

You let out a nervous laugh and slide off the cart, grabbing the key. 

“Can I borrow that for a sec?” He asks, pointing to your iPhone. “Sure?”

You hand it over to him, watching as he types his number into your phone.

He places it into your palm as he meets your gaze, searching your face as he steps closer to you. “Well…”

“Well..” you copy him, not wanting to say goodbye. He leans forward to press his forehead to yours, swallowing hard.

“Guess I’ll see ya around?” His tone is hopeful.

You frown slightly, “Will you?”

He hangs his head with a soft laugh. “Probably not. That’s why I gave you my number - you know, so I can?”

Lifting his chin with your finger, you smile at him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Glen Powell. I hope you get home safely tomorrow!”

He kisses your nose before slowly backing away from you down the path. “The pleasure was all mine!” He shouts, arms outstretched on either side of him. You giggle, waving to him as you watch him disappear down the path to his cabin. You shake your head in disbelief as you walk up the stairs to your front door and begin your nighttime routine. The last interaction with Glen replays like a movie in your mind as you brush your teeth, slip into your pajamas and lay your head on the pillow. You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you lie restless in the dark, setting your alarm for the next morning to take Dylan to the shuttles.

These last two weeks have been unexpected in more ways than one, but ending them with Glen Powell’s number in your phone? Now that is a plot twist you would never have seen coming.

[mmmichyyy]

Hello 🤗 if you're still taking prompts, numbers 30 and 65 please

#30: "be you. no one else can." #65: "i don't want you to stop."

welcome to the company! happy to help if you have any questions or need my assistance with anything :) -ian

mickey stares at the bright yellow sticky note on his keyboard, then looks over his cubicle. the tall ginger is chatting with some of the other employees by the water cooler, all sunshine and smiles like a bright light in the dull, grey office.

he crumples up the note and debates whether to toss it in the bin. he's not here to make friends - especially not the office assistant who looks like a walking motivational poster. the guy probably gets off on cheesy quotes like dream big! or live laugh love! or be you, no one else can! hell no. he's here to collect a paycheck so he can pay rent. that's it.

but, for some unexplainable reason, mickey can't bring himself to throw the note away. so before he can think too much about it, he opens the empty drawer in his desk and sweeps the piece of paper inside. whatever. it doesn't mean anything. nope.

-

the collection of neon sticky notes in his drawer grow as the weeks go by.

hope your first week of work went well!

going on a coffee run, let me know if you need anything :)

noticed you were asking around for a pen, so i just grabbed you a whole pack from the supply closet :)

we're all going to the taco truck on the block for lunch today, come with if you want!

just a heads up, avoid martha unless you want to listen to her talk about her cats for an hour lol

restocked the pantry with a bunch of snacks, if you're hungry :)

hey do you think robert will be offended if i tell him his toupee is crooked??

mickey hadn't replied to any of the messages at this point. he knows he's not special - ian probably leaves hundreds of notes for everyone, the attentive dork that he is. but the last note catches him off guard and he can't help but let out a loud snort.

without overthinking it, he scribbles a reply on a notepad and sticks it on ian's desk.

you should tell him the thing on his head looks like a dead raccoon. -m

later in the afternoon, mickey holds back a grin when he bumps into robert in the washroom, muttering under his breath while vigorously adjusting his hair.

-

it takes him a few more weeks to realize that not a lot of people in the office communicate via sticky notes. in fact, he's the only one who gets daily notes on his desk, so much so his drawer is nearly filled to the brim. he's really not sure what to make of it, actually. he's barely spoken ten words to ian in person, yet he has an entire physical collection of the guy's random thoughts and musings.

curiosity and intrigue (or perhaps his inexplicable attraction to redheaded alien-looking guys) get the better of him - so finally, he breaks all his rules and marches up to ian's desk.

"what's with all the notes, red?"

ian looks up, surprised, all wide-eyed and flushed cheeks. mickey thinks this is the first time they've been this close in each other's personal space, so close that he can see the light freckles smattered across ian's face. he resists the urge to trace the dots with his fingers - because that would be weird and not something coworkers do, right?

"sorry for bombarding you... you just seem so cool, but i noticed you don't really talk much and i guess i was too intimidated to approach you in person," ian says, looking sheepish. "i can stop if you think it's annoying..."

"no," mickey cuts in quickly. "um. i don't want... you don't have to stop. the notes are... nice." they're the highlight of my day, he thinks, but he doesn't say that out loud. not yet.

ian's entire face lights up and mickey has never seen anyone look more like the personification of an eager puppy. honestly, mickey doesn't think anyone has ever shown so much interest in him, ever, and it's kind of... endearing?

so, he takes a deep breath and decides to take the plunge.

"but you can talk to me too. in person. face to face. y'know, if you want. i'm fine with that."

ian nods enthusiastically. "maybe we can get to know each other over lunch today?" he asks in a hopeful tone. "the diner around the corner makes a really mean burger."

mickey smiles. "only if you're buying."

[babybluebex]

italy calling: part three | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part three of three! your time with joe in livorno comes to a tearful end, but, when you return home to london, can you be trusted not to find joe? and can he be trusted not to find you? pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: ANGST, lots of crying, but it's sweet, i promise, brief mention of smut word count: 3.4k author's note: since @icallhimjoey is BULLYING me to post this early, i am. everyone say "thank you joey". thank you all so much for your support on this fic, it truly means the world to me. i love you guys, and enjoy the last part!

The rest of the week passed in the blink of an eye. You spent nearly every second with Joe, either laid up in bed or out exploring the streets, and you adored it. He was gentle and kind, though still a cheeky little bloke— at dinner, his hand would teasingly slide between your thighs, only to stay there and not progress, or he would kiss you hard and grin at you when you chased him back into another kiss. You maintained the rules, stopping yourself from texting Lily or Googling him multiple times, abstaining in favor of cuddling and talking. He had so many stories, and he could have regaled you all day if you let him, and you often did. 

All too soon, though, Friday came. You sat in Joe’s bed as you watched him pack— you had offered to help him, but he declined, saying that it was something that he needed to do for himself. He seemed to be taking it hard, his brow drawn and mumbling under his breath as he gathered up his things. He scratched his head and sighed, and he looked at you sort of helplessly. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. He had a habit of employing big, wet puppy-dog eyes on you when he wanted something, usually a bite of your pasta or a kiss, but you could tell that this was something different. “Joe?” 

He came to you and laid down, settling his head in your lap, and your fingers started to card through his curls. “This has been the best week of my life,” he whispered. “I don’t want it to end.” 

“Me neither,” you admitted. “I… I’m gonna miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you so much,” Joe whispered. He took your hand into his and gently stroked your palm with his thumb, and he added, “This just isn’t fair. I find the perfect girl, and I have to leave her in Italy.” 

“You don’t have to leave me,” you offered. “We could keep in touch after you get home.” 

“No, no,” Joe whispered quickly. “It’s better if we keep it like this. I couldn’t ask you to join me and… My life is messy, love, and you wouldn’t want any part of it.” 

“Yes, I do,” you said, hot tears pricking at your eyes and threatening to spill. You sniffled, and you said, “If it meant I had you.” 

“It’s constant, with me,” Joe said. “You’d constantly be scrutinized, everyone would have an eye on you at all times, everything that’s private suddenly isn’t anymore. Is that the sort of life you want?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you asked. “Why would any of that happen? Joseph, darling, I’d do anything for you, but where in the world did you get that?” 

Joe sat up, his puppy-dog eyes locked on yours with a new intensity, one that made your skin crawl uncomfortably. “I have to tell you something,” he said. “After everything, you deserve to know who I am.” 

“I know who you are,” you told him, taking his hands into yours. “You’re Joe. You like cheesy bread and long walks at sunset and smoking after I blow you, and you hate when people are rude and when I get picky about olives. You have a brother and a sister, your best friend’s name is Wesley, you only smoke Camels and use a pink lighter, you’re ticklish on your left side, you’re insecure about your stomach— Joseph, I know you.” 

“But that’s not enough,” Joe said. “I’m more than that, there’s more important stuff to know about me.” 

“I don’t care,” you told him. “You said at the start of this that you didn’t want me to know, and I'm not going to break that promise, and I’m… I’m okay with that. It’s like you said, we wouldn’t work at home, we only work here.” 

Joe pressed his lips together as he thought, and he finally said, “Alright. I guess this is it, then. Give me your phone.” 

“Why?” you asked, though you fished your phone out of the bedsheets and passed it to him anyway. 

“I’m deleting myself,” Joe told you. He tapped at your phone, swiping and deleting the text conversation, then went to your phone app and deleted every call that you had made to him from your call history. Then, he went to the contacts folder, found himself (still listed under Italy Joe), and deleted it. “No chance of you finding me now. No trace of me left.” 

“Give me yours,” you said, and Joe did the same, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you, and you went through the same motions, deleting your texts and calls and contact. Your heart ached at the sight of your name in his phone— your name with a heart next to it— but, before you gave him his phone back, you opened up the camera, and you tugged Joe close to you. “Maybe you can’t contact me,” you started, snapping a picture of both of you. “But you can remember me.” 

Joe turned and kissed you without a second thought, and you snapped another picture before you set down his phone and kissed him back. You finally let your tears fall, and you whimpered as Joe broke the kiss. He softly kissed your cheeks and eyelids, collecting your tears on his lips, and you tugged him close and held him tightly. “I’ll never forget you,” he told you. “I love you.” 

You shook your head, your frown growing. “No, you don’t,” you told him. “You love me in Italy. At home, I’m messy and boring, and I don’t do anything except watch television and go to bed early.” 

“Then, I’d love nothing more than to be messy and boring with you,” Joe chuckled lightly. “I love you, darling, and location won’t change that.” 

“It’s your rule, my love,” you told him. “No finding each other. We obeyed every other rule, please just… Don’t ruin this. Don’t let this be tarnished by the end. Everything was beautiful, and it’ll end when you leave in a few minutes, and-and that part of our lives will be over, and we’ll be okay with it. Because we have no other choice.” 

Joe nodded gently, and he said, “One more kiss, love.” 

You indulged him, softly pressing your lips to his, and he kissed you with all of the love and softness that he had in his body. This man loved you, and you loved him, and you were about to lose him. And you were okay with that. He was only meant for the short time you were in Livorno, and now that was over. But it broke your heart so thoroughly that you actually felt pain in your chest. When you broke the kiss, you only had one request: “Tell me your name.” 

“Quinn,” he said in an instant. “My name is Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn.” He would give you the shirt off of his back on a regular day, but it seemed as if your parting had broken his will down to nothing. Before, he had faffed about and not given you even his surname, but now… 

“Joseph,” you sniffled. “Joey… Your flight leaves soon.” 

“I can get another one,” Joe whispered. “I can stay here for another day or so.” 

“Darling, you have to go,” you told him. “Your life awaits.” 

Joe kissed you one last time, and he took his phone from your hand, moving to zip up his luggage. He didn’t say much as he led you out of the hotel room, letting the door close softly behind you, and he gave you a tight hug, breathing into your neck and having your scent one last time. “I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered, and Joe gave a shaky breath. 

“Not ‘goodbye’,” he said. “‘See you later’, maybe. We’ll see each other again.” 

“But not on purpose,” you reminded him. “No finding me.” 

“As long as you don’t find me,” Joe said, and you nodded. 

When you got back to your hotel room, you felt empty. You were hungry, but you didn’t feel like eating. You were tired, but the bed was too big and lonely. You had hardly been in your hotel room all week, and it looked sad and deserted. Joe’s light was gone. You needed to go home. 

But first, you called Lily. “Babe!” she exclaimed as she answered the phone. “Oh my God, how is Italy? I’ve hardly heard from you!” 

“It’s fine,” you said. “I met a guy.” 

“Ooh!” Lily said. “Tell me about him.” 

“I…” you started. “I think I know him. His name sounded familiar, and I think maybe we know each other somehow.” 

“What’s his name?” Lily asked. “Let me Google him, maybe I can find his LinkedIn or something—“

“No, no,” you said quickly. “Part of the deal of the fling was that we don’t find each other afterwards. Googling is forbidden.” 

“Oh,” Lily sighed. “That sucks. Why did you agree to that?” 

“Because I didn’t realize how I would feel at the end,” you said. “Lil, I had a-a whirlwind romance, one of those kinds you only read about. I love him and he loves me, but that’s over now. We were only meant to work in Italy, and I’m okay with that.” 

“Your voice is all shaky,” Lily noted. “You don’t seem okay with it.” 

You sighed, and your throat tightened as your tears fell. “I’m coming home,” you whispered. 

“What?” Lily asked. “Your flight doesn’t leave until Sunday night.” 

“I’m coming home now,” you said. “I can’t be here without him. I’ll cancel that flight and get the next flight back to London.” 

“If that’s what you want,” Lily whispered. “Pop ‘round my place when you get back, I need to hear all about your guy.” 

The weeks passed slowly. After coming home from Italy, nothing seemed right anymore. Your flat was sad too, not even having been touched by Joe’s presence and still feeling the effects of his withdrawal. Your plants were wilting, your bed was too hard, everything was skewed and wrong. Where you used to be content going to work and coming home and watching TV, you suddenly found yourself searching for more. 

You started going to coffee shops after work, sitting and reading and trying to enjoy the bustle of people and tourists around you. You had gotten a copy of Joe’s favorite book and tried to read the poetry, but every word made you think of him. Everything reminded you of him. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid as to send him away home without so much as getting a picture for yourself. Even three weeks out, already, the image of him in your mind was beginning to fade— everything but his eyes. 

You tried to enjoy yourself more, the way Joe would have wanted you to. You dressed up with Lily and went to girl’s night and you went to nightclubs, but none of it was the same. You remembered in Italy, how, one night, Joe had taken you back to the nightclub where you met and danced with you. He was an awful dancer and it had made you laugh endlessly, though you weren’t much better, but you had found your rhythm with his arms around you, swaying to the music. That night had ended with room service ravioli and cigarettes on his balcony, wrapped in bedsheets and trying to keep quiet as he knelt down and ate your cunt, and you frowned as you remembered it. There was nobody like your Joe. 

Somehow, you resisted the urge to look for him. You hadn’t told Lily his name so that she couldn’t do it either, but you remembered it: Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn. Every day, you wanted to Google that and see what would come up, but you never did, and you were thankful that you didn’t. Even if you found him, there was nothing that said that he would want to see you. Even though he had said that he loved you, that meant nothing. He easily could have had a million reasons why he didn’t want to expand your relationship past Italy. Maybe he didn’t want to fool with long-distance either. Maybe he even had a girlfriend waiting for him at home. There was no telling why he had made that rule, and, even though you tried to pretend that it was blasé and you didn’t care, you cared immensely. 

You held your chin in your hand as you gazed out the window of the coffee shop, watching the London afternoon go by. It was rainy, and umbrellas passed by every second, but your eyes went past them, unfocused as you thought. The next day was a deadline, and you weren’t quite finished with your load of work yet, but you knew that you could finish it tomorrow before noon, before that deadline, but you still sat and worried about it. You chewed on your thumbnail and played with a bit of skin on your lip, and you watched as a man in a suit walked by. 

You saw plenty of men in suits in London, but this one was different. The suit was a sort of warm beige-brown color, and his pants didn’t fit quite right, a little too long and brushing the rain-slick pavement. He wore a white shirt underneath, unbuttoned two buttons down, silver chain on his freckled neck. He had his phone in his hand, looking down as his wired headphones jumped and clacked with each step, and he finally stopped and looked up at the sign of the coffee shop. 

Your heart stopped in your chest, and you jumped in shock. Joe. There was no way. It was impossible. Joe could not be standing in front of you right now. How did the universe orchestrate this? His hair was styled now, pushed back off of his forehead with product, golden-brown curls that you couldn’t help but adore, and his eyes scanned the sign before dropping back down to look through the window. It took him a moment, but those dark eyes found you, and he stood still, his chest heaving as you locked eyes. Slowly, he tugged his other earbud out and held them in his fist, and he gave you a gentle little wave. 

You shot out of your seat and gathered up your bag, and you hurried out to meet him. The world flew by you, and your chest tightened as you stepped out into the drizzle and into Joseph’s warm arms, mashing your face into his neck. He smelled good, like expensive cologne, and you laughed as Joe held you tightly, rocking back and forth with the might of his embrace. “How…?” you started, your voice cracking, and you pressed your cheek harder into his skin, clawing at his back to get him closer. “How did you—“ 

“I couldn’t help myself,” Joe told you. “I went into my data carrier’s call log and found your number, and I Googled it, and I found you. I really just did it so I could see your face again, I really didn’t intend to come find you, but then I found your Instagram, and I saw your post about this place, and-and this cafe really isn’t that far from my flat, and I thought maybe being near you would be enough, and—” 

“I can’t believe it’s you,” you whimpered. “Joe!” 

“Are you mad?” Joe asked, his lips touching your ear. 

“No,” you told him. “So, wait, you mean to tell me that you’re from London? You’ve been right under my nose this whole time?” 

“Born and raised,” Joe chuckled. He pulled out of the embrace, smoothing his hand across his hair, and he said, “I could hardly believe my luck when I saw that you lived here too. I mean, London is huge, but also incredibly small, I can’t believe we haven’t run into each other before— Whatever. Do you… Erm… Did you keep up your end of the bargain?” 

You nodded. “And I really wanted to Google you too,” you whined. “My friend wanted me to so badly, she wanted to find your LinkedIn profile or whatever.” 

“So, you have no idea who I am?” Joe asked. 

“And I don’t care who you are,” you told him. “You could be the King of England, and you’d still be my sweet boy.”

Joe chuckled. “You might want to sit down,” he said nervously. 

“You’re not royalty, are you?” you asked. Without a thought, you sat down at one of the little wire tables, drenched in rain water, and Joe knelt down next to you, taking your hand into his. “Because I don’t think that I can handle being, like, a prince’s consort or whatever.” 

“I’m not royalty,” Joe chuckled softly. “I… If I just tell you, you’ll never believe me. Google my name.” 

Slowly, you pulled out your phone and did as he asked you. You couldn’t even begin to type his last name before it was autofilled for you, and you looked at him with wide eyes before you clicked on it with a shaking finger. 

Articles. Interviews. Pictures of him on red carpets. Modeling campaigns. Dior. Valentino. GQ Man of the Year. Netflix. HBO. Your head began to swim, and you set your phone down. “Okay,” you started. “So, you’re, like, super famous.” 

“To my chagrin,” Joe joked softly, although you got the impression that it wasn’t much of a joke. “But you see why I didn’t want you to know.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” you said hazily. 

“I’m lucky that no fans wanted a picture when we were out together,” Joe said softly. “That would have ruined my whole anonymity thing.” 

“Why did you hide that?” you asked. “This is— Joseph. This is a huge thing to keep secret. Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“You remember my ex?” Joe asked. “The one I told you about, the one who used me? I needed to be sure that you wouldn’t do the same, and you proved to me that that sort of thing doesn’t matter to you. You’re not superficial or shallow, you don’t care about fame or status, you liked me for me. You were happy with regular old Joe, and I don’t get people like that anymore. You were— you are— a breath of fresh air, and I wanted to keep breathing you. So, you can leave me be, if you want, you can turn away from all of that and keep living the life that you have. I wouldn’t blame you, I wish I still had this sort of life, but… Darling, I’ve been suffering without you. Life just isn’t the same. I come home from set, and I imagine what it would be like to come home to you, and I… Fuck. I want you so bad, but it’s your decision to make.”

It certainly was a big decision. But you knew your answer. You had known it since the moment you met Joe, all those weeks ago, in that nightclub in Livorno. You tugged Joe close to you and kissed him, tasting cigarettes on his lips. Italy Joe was no more— now, he was just Joe. “We can make it work,” you told him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.” 

“Good,” Joe smiled. “Cool. Awesome. Erm, do you— Would you like to come—”

“If you’re asking me to come home with you, the answer is yes,” you chuckled. “A million times yes.”

Joe smiled, the sort of smile only movie stars could give, and he stood up, taking your hand in his. “I’m just glad you’re not mad at me,” he said. “I thought you’d be upset about me breaking our rule.”

“We’re about to break all of our rules,” you smiled, and Joe grinned at the insinuation. “I’m not mad at all. I’m just relieved that I wasn’t the one who did it first.” 

Joe pulled you into his body as he laughed, and you hugged him tightly, your heart opening up inside your chest. Joe. Your Joe was here, and he wasn’t going to leave. “I love you,” you told him, and Joe kissed you hard, his hands sliding down your body and grabbing your hips, tugging you up on him. It reminded you of your first kiss on the beach, and Joe couldn’t help his smile as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too,” Joe whispered. “I really do.” 

“You know this means that we can, like, vacation exclusively in Italy now, right?” you laughed, and Joe did his laugh that you loved, the hearty chuckle from his chest. 

“Of course,” Joe said. “I’d want nothing else.”

-

taglist: @wordscomehither @aol19 @sadbitchfangirl @cluelesslilsharkie @emma77645 @zestychili @aysheashea @ali-r3n @ace-harrington

[infinite-orangepeel]

more eaglescout!steve/perv!eddie bc i’m obsessed

CW: eddie being possessive, steve’s toxic parents (food issues, ED, physical abuse)

steve’s parents have always been overbearing and not in a loving way. they’re controlling, demeaning, and downright cruel.

steve’s mom is most critical about his weight.

she makes him weigh himself regularly and puts him on a diet whenever she thinks he’s gained too much. he has no say over his own meals and she packs his lunch every single day.

steve’s dad is abusive in other ways.

he wants steve to be a real man’s man. he beats hits him with his belt whenever he thinks he’s being too soft or ‘feminine’ in any way (which essentially translates to being kind or gentle).

he leaves steve bruised beneath his clothes and scarred over his heart.

they fuck with his head.

they close him off from so much of the world.

they don’t let him travel, date outside of the church, choose his own friends, etc.

he knows so little about anything outside of the claustrophobic bubble they’ve raised him in.

needless to say, eddie munson is the antithesis to everything they’ve ever taught him.

eddie munson breaks rules, pushes boundaries, throws up his middle finger at tradition—curiously drawn to darkness and oddities.

and as he gets to know steve, he notices something that he just can’t get out of his head.

all of his clothes—scouts uniforms, casual wear, briefs—have his family name written in sharpie on the label. it’s absurd. he’s an adult.

“what’s this about?” eddie asks pointedly one day, flashing one such label at a half-naked steve who’s hurrying to get dressed.

“mom does it to all my clothes. always has,” he shrugs and frowns, “i’ve asked her to stop.”

and maybe in another family dynamic it might be endearing. sign of a mother who just loves her son too much and can’t let go.

but steve’s family is fucked up. steve’s family is deranged. and eddie, coming from his own fucked up family, can only read the little labels as another way to suffocate him and hold him back.

“do you want me to do something about it?” eddie cocks an eyebrow at him, “because i will. just say the word.”

steve looks uncertain. whenever eddie gives him the opportunity to choose for himself, steve tenses up.

“it’s sharpie. it doesn’t wash out.”

eddie chuckles, smirks at him in that way that spells ‘trouble.’

“lucky for you i have scissors and i know how to sew. just lay back and relax, baby. let me take care of it.”

which is how steve ends up bringing eddie his entire closet so he can repeat what he’s done to the clothes steve was wearing the previous day.

methodically and with a joint between his teeth, steve watches as eddie cuts out each ‘harrington’ label, puts them all in a pile, and tosses steve a lighter.

“go on,” he says as they stand in his backyard, “light ‘em up.”

it’s symbolic. it’s ceremonial. it feels good. it feels freeing to watch all those little labels char and turn to ash.

eddie spends the rest of the evening with steve in his lap, sewing ‘property of E.M.’ into every last piece.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1, @disastardly, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @the-redthread, @asbealthgn @bestofbucky, @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @feraleddiekinninghours @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @mcneen @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23