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#it takes place near a real physical place. so i was looking to find the main town with google maps.

octoberautumnbox · 1 day

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hello kuya box, just wanted to pop in and ask how you're doing :) I've been (im)patiently waiting for yuri comeback news so I can finally get into her more :<)

Fluffy question for you:

Imagine you and Yuri are in school together. You're both in the same friend group and you've had a secret crush on her for years now. While you're hanging out with your friends, you suddenly find yourself alone with her. Despite your anxiety, the moment just feels right - how would you confess to her?

have a yuri :)

hi 0cta9on! everyone and their moms on the edge of their seats for that cb i get it GJKSHFJKDHSGKJSFHJK but we gotta let her cook!! :DDDD

also i keep getting requests and ideas for this general plot LMAO i'll get to that draft eventually! in the meantime please enjoy this short thingy ehe

~~~

It's been about forty minutes now, and nearly everyone is rolling around in the grass of the Sunken Garden. The admin should be kicking people out right now, but for some reason, nobody hears your friends' racket, allowing you free reign for as long as nobody comes near enough. It's strange that you have the free real estate all to yourself, but you're not one to complain. Finals were tough on everybody, and by the looks of it, you and your friends most of all.

Hanbin and Jeongin are locked in a verbal argument, threatening to turn physical soon. Somi yaps on with Chaeryeong off to the side, spilling their drinks on the soil and forming puddles of intoxicating mud in the ground. And finally, Ryujin lies face down in the grass, true to character, and the sheer fact that it's Ryujin silences any alarms that she might be in danger that would have otherwise started blaring in your head.

All that's left is you and Yuri, sitting on a nearby tree root, watching the scenes unfold by the light of a streetlamp infested with moths. She eyes each one lazily, from the fight, to the gossip, to Ryujin who is most probably not dead, as she sips beer from her bottle and punctuates the swig with a relief-filled "ahhh."

Her beauty is mesmerizing, from her half-lidded eyes, to the way her hair perfectly frames her face, to how her lips curl with each sip she takes of her drink. It's nothing like anyone has ever seen before, or, at least not the way you've seen her. It doesn't help that the moon, full as can be, shines its borrowed light as if only on her, like a spotlight to the main character of a soap opera.

It must be the alcohol; it must be. There's not a single reason in the world that you feel the way you feel right now. Never mind that it's bad tonight, never mind that she's so pretty, never mind that this is the first chance you've ever had alone with her, never mind that it might also be the last...

Your heart pounds nearly as hard as your head throbs in search of water. Everything is wrong, and there's only one way to make it right. Lie to yourself, "it's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." Kick yourself mentally: you know it's not.

"Yuri," you say tentatively. Part of you wishes she'd heard and would turn your way, the rest of you prays she didn't.

"Yeah?" Look over to her, find her gaze still glued to the various comical sights in front of the both of you. She smiles at her friends' antics, and she smiles to you. Your eyes make contact, and you swear you've never felt more honest — honest and vulnerable.

"It's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." It repeats like a broken record in your head. You try your damnedest to convince yourself it's only the alcohol, that she's just that pretty tonight, that she's just that pretty every night the past ten years you've known her. This isn't anything special. This is just plain old Yuri. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just Yuri.

"N-nothing. Nice night out, huh?" You realize you're staring, and you avoid her eyes. Take a panicked sip of your own beer, but, fuck, did you make it look not-panicked?

"Yeah, it is. Really is." Yuri places her head on your shoulder and sighs all the air out her lungs. Her eyes flutter shut as she fills her lungs again with a crisp night breeze. By accident, you swear by accident, the fragrance of her hair enters your nostrils, and you take in the comfort of her being plainly close to you.

And just like that, you fail again. Your feelings stay tightly locked in a box, buried deep in the recesses of your heart. Who knows when they'll surface, or if they ever will.

Fuck it. This is enough. More than, even. This is Yuri.

Just Yuri. Nothing more. Nothing less.

#jo yuri #jo yuri fluff #kpop fluff #girl group fluff #izone fluff

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sykostyles · 2 months

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subject to change 1.0

wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two

a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)

cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.

“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it.

“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.

“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer

“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”

“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?”

“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh.

“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.”

“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday.

You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.

“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall.

Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.

“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?

“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?

“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.

“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.

“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.

After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.

You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck–

“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.

“Ah, not to worry. It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.

“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?

“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.

You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”

“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again.

“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.

“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time.

The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.

“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.

“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.

“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.

“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.

He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”

“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”

“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station.

“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.

“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.

“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.

You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options!

He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.

After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.

The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,

Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.

The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”

Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.

His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat.

Your breath hitches.

“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”

A whimper escapes you in response.

“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.

Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash.

Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten.

That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”

Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”

His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him.

“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.

Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”

Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.

“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.

Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles.

“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.

“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.

“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.

Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.

His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips. Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand.

Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.

Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.

“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”

“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.

“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.

“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.

“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”

“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.

He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.

“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched.

Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.

“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..

“G-gna cum,” you stammer, “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,”

“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.

“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle.

You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.

“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”

His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.

“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.

“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.

“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”

“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process.

You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.

“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.

You smile.

“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.

“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can.

“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.”

“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”

“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More!

“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”

You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.

“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.

“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”

“C-can you touch m-me, please?”

“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot.

“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”

“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”

“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”

Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.

“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”

Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.

“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”

“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you.

“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.

“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.

“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom.

Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today.

Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.

“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it.

“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself.

“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?

“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly.

You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.

Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.

“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.

“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.

“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.

“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.

“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.

“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?

“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up.

How dare he.

“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.

“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.

“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.

c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x you

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jaysgirlx · 4 months

Note

JASON TODD AS MY BOYFRIEND HCS. smthing like how we mettt, our dynamic, and other cute things sosjsjsjwo. I need him biblically, spiritually, and physically. LOVEE YOUUU

Jason Todd Boyfriend Headcanons for my bestie Ani!!

— You met Jason at a bookstore, you'd spotted him there multiple times wandering through the classics section. So of course you went back multiple times hoping you'd be able to talk to him except he managed to approach you first. He's towering over you from behind, and you think he's going a grab a book off the shelf but instead, his hand points to a book that you hadn't seen before, Wuthering Heights, "try this sweetheart, it's a favorite of mine" and before you could even ask him his name he walks away like a smug bastard.

— The next time you see him there, you tell him how much you loved the book and while you're busy rambling you notice him smiling and he goes, "you're cute when you ramble". After a couple more times of seeing others at the bookstore, a bit of flirting, and plenty of book recommendations Jason finally asks you out.

— The two of have the greatest dynamic, you contrast each other so well that your conversations go on forever. Jason could always find something to say to whatever argument you had ready.

— Jason still loves that you ramble, even though he occasionally has to shut you up with a kiss so that you can catch your breath. He warns you about it but you don't listen cause you like it (ani is reallyyyy into this stuff guys).

— Jason slightly regrets giving you his real phone number instead of a burner because all you do is tag him in tiktoks and comment "we should do this" or "this reminded me of you". He complains about it to you but he screatly loves it and uses it as date planning material so he gives you exactly what you want.

— Jason isn't used to pda and physical touch but he loves it when you stroke his cheek and kiss any part of his face. He hasn't received any physical intimacy in a long time and he's scared of asking you to do more because he doesn't want to be needy. He eventually ends up asking you and of course, you shower him with affection in private. You kiss each of his scars while he on the other hand, finds himself kissing and ducking your neck with his hands always rubbing your hips. You got him addicted to not just your touch but how you how bodies felt up against each other.

— When you take your random naps he sits down near you and watches you, not in a creepy way but in an "I can't lose you" kind of way. He gets worried that you'll just disappear when he isn't looking because he can barely fathom how he managed to make you his.

— The two of you read books together even though your tastes differ a bit and he loves taking you to this old cafe where he always buys you whatever treat you want.

— Your relationship is very private for all the right reasons, drawing attention to Jason would be dangerous for both of you and he wasn't ready to risk it.

— Since Jason can't take you to fancy restaurants or famous places that could get him spotted he tries his hardest to be around as much as possible. You know he's the Red Hood but there's a silent agreement between you two not to talk about it.

— Jason agrees to hear your daily girl drama and do your nails but only if you watch his favorite old movies with him. Turns out he loves The Notebook and that's why he's scared of meeting your parents.

— Jason loves sleeping together every night you can, and he doesn't mean sexually he just means cuddling to sleep. Jason feels the closest to you when he's holding you because it reminds him that you chose to be here with him when you don't need to have to be.

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akunoniwa · 6 months

Text

Doctor's Note

Synopsis: In which you get diagnosed and treated by your local Dr. Demon

Pairing: Gaap (Ars Goetia) x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, essentially just... demon fucking...

WC: ~4.5k

He’d already know your body too well, exactly where to touch and how, seeing as he’s a seasoned doctor. It didn’t matter that you’d only visited him just this once, he knew exactly what ailed you.

An excuse.

You’d read all about him, as you’d heard he takes phenomenal care of his patients, but an unusual sense of pride kept you from submitting to your curiosity. Until now.

“It’s strange…” He began, his voice buoyant despite its density. He’d done all of the typical procedures, asking about your medical history, taking your blood pressure, but he feigned ignorance of your real intent. He wanted to entertain your coyness, as it’s nothing new… But you seemed particularly delectable, as he recognized you’re not one easily swayed.

His wanting to change the subject naturally had you alert, waiting for him to continue with suspended brows.

“You’d made this appointment with an air of reasoning as if I’d find something wrong?” His eyes did not raise, as his gaze was focused on his pen lacing ink into quick, ornate letters on the report. The sound of the dextrous and hasty ballpoint imprinting strings of words onto the page somehow spoke of his personality to you… It was oddly fascinating to watch.

You were skeptical of this remark, as you’d made no obvious note of this being your motive, it’s merely a regular physical, “I just haven’t been keeping up with my health, and you were recommended to me…”

He gently huffed out what almost seemed to be a smug scoff, setting his clipboard on the counter behind him. You still sat propped up on the observation table, feeling almost infantilized by the way your feet barely reached the step-down.

“There’s just one last step, I need to check your lungs and heart…” You noted that he didn’t keep the stethoscope around his neck but rather it was hung on the wall.

Within your reading up on him, you were quickly put on to why he was so ‘renowned’. Yes, he was genuinely an accomplished scholar, particularly in women’s health, but… Men and women alike would rave about how he’d ‘take care of them’ like no one else… You couldn’t snuff these thoughts out as he neared you from the side.

“If I may pry, who recommended me?” He hesitated to place the diaphragm against you. You felt disgusted by the way you were becoming increasingly aware of his proximity.

“Just a coworker, we were chatting about how negligent I am when it comes to my doctor visits… I know I need to pay more attention.” You gave an earnest response, trying to dilute any suggestive thoughts, though they were growing unbearably potent.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a considering pout, carrying on with checking your upper back, the cold of the bell piece cutting through your blouse, “Deep breath in…” He guided, almost lifting you with his voice

“And despite having a previous physician, you chose me?” He paused, “Breathe out.” He repositioned the diaphragm slowly against your back. He noticed your breath was tense instantly, trying to stifle any satisfaction in this. Your heart rate undeniably went up as he neared questionable territory with his interrogating.

“I was intrigued, my last doctor was not the most compassionate.” Your reasoning was quick, perhaps justified, but he liked the way your breath hitched as he moved around your back.

“One last breath in…” His voice rose as if he was holding the same breath, “And out.”

He rounded to your front, standing before you, “Just breathe as you normally would here.” He placed the piece in the center of your chest as you tried to avoid looking directly at his face. He was so close, you were in his sphere of scent, a delicately botanic, smoky kind.

“I said to breathe normally.” He asserted again with a small grin, “You just cannot seem to relax…”

“A doctor’s office isn’t particularly comforting.” Your eyes shot as far away from seeing his expression as possible, your cheeks tarnished with faint embarrassment.

“Is that what it is? Your blood pressure was entirely normal earlier… Perhaps there is something amiss with you…” His words dragged and coiled around you, reminiscent of his handwriting, aptly stringing you along.

You’ve been caught, pressing your lips together in a bashful attempt to not say something ridiculous, “And what might that be.” You maintained a level tone as best as you could.

He still held the scope in place, enjoying how you writhed, your breaths smaller, not so much frantic, but unsteady. He was surely staring at your face from his elevated angle, you could feel his gaze on you as if you were an ant under a magnifying glass.

His prior facade of professionalism dropped elegantly like a theater curtain, heavy as he leaned into you, his lips inches from your ear, “You know exactly why you came here, how long would you like to continue rehearsing this scene?”

Your frenzied heart rate was enough to drive him wild, but he knew how to keep tempo.

“... I…,” You were at a loss, not wanting to hear much more of your meek voice. His heat radiated over your whole body, voice seeping into you.

“I’ll show you compassion just this once,” His words were bowed with an audible grin, “Only if you can report to me what exactly brought you here. Truly.” He finally hung the scope to idle around his neck, wanting to hear your every syllable, even if they wavered.

Your words certainly didn’t come easily, “I was curious why you’d received such appraise… And I wanted to find out for myself.”

“You know what I am and what I do, and still sit here as if I have to evaluate you to find out your pitiful deficiencies.” You hadn’t noticed your legs instinctually parted to allow him closer, “You want me to assess your body, in more ways than one.”

“Is this not malpractice, you acting this way, doctor?” Your voice had surely withered under the weight of anticipation.

He was more moved by your calling him ‘doctor’ than he should have been, as it’s something he hears all the time… Your voice, strained and borderline needy, rearranged the word in his mind, “I’ll give you any version of malpractice you prefer, darling.” He finally distanced his face to align with yours, seeing your slipping guise from inches away.

“What would you prescribe to someone with my so-called pitiful deficiencies?” You playfully continued the bit, you both intertwined in the teasing like strands of a rope.

“Hmm… I may need a closer look, after all, just to ensure… May I?” You were caught off guard by his genuine concern about touching you.

“I can’t just go home untreated, can I? Whatever you need to do to cure me of these deficiencies, please…” You realized you’d properly left your decency and pride tied to a light post outside of the clinic.

He took in a breath himself, overwhelmed by your eager presence… No demon should have this much power without checks and balances… He salivated at the thought of ravaging you, tipped by your trailed ‘please’.

His hand, gloved in blue latex, rose to rest against your cheek as he showed you a doting look, “Stand up for me…”

You managed to still have a tinge of reservation, hesitating for barely a second. But, you both knew why you were here, there were no secrets to hang onto. You obliged as his hand fell, he stepped back allowing you some room. You had to admit, you were susceptible to his towering height as he scanned over you, somehow the silence served more to tension than awkwardness.

“To ascertain accurate results… These lovely clothes just won’t do, I regret to say…” He continued his character pretending to be upset by this. He stepped into you once again, an index finger pulling at your belt to undo the buckle, snaking it off of you through the loops. Even the mere sensation of this in tandem with your anticipation was starting to gnaw at you.

Along with the stethoscope, he hung your belt around his neck, “Perhaps this could be useful… Go ahead and strip for me darling, this could serve my research well.”

You committed to this energy, removing everything that clouded your bare form as he watched, head cocked observingly as he leaned back against the counter. Only the sound of clothes slipping against skin flooded the space. His eyes swayed and lingered over every detail, his hands anchored to the counter’s edge at either side of him, looking nonchalantly imposing.

“Any prognosis?” You called to him as he had to tear his eyes from your body.

“Oh, it’s severe, seeing as you just willingly stripped naked for someone of my ilk.” He closed in on you again, unable to resist playing with you.

His rubbery hands reached to entrap you, starting from your ribcage, thumbs briefly brushing over your nipples. He spared no specific attention to any one thing, sliding down over your waist, to your hips. He watched his hands as you watched his faded eyes, even his blinks were languid as he felt you observing him.

“Turn around.” It was an order, but his voice still floated above your head as you obeyed, turning in his grasp.

He hummed, pleased as his touch rose to your shoulders, then dragged torturously to your ass. Although you were not instructed, it felt as if you were once again holding onto a breath, releasing as composed as you could manage as his hands groped your flesh, “These are quite nice… Typically they look better in a red… Or maybe…” His words wandered off to somewhere unknown, a hand rising to push at your upper back, forcing you to bend forward.

“You’re very compliant, darling.” You felt an acidic wave of lust roll through you at his thoughtless praise.

By the silence, you judged he was certainly made aware of your most deficient parts, your cunt probably more obviously intrigued than anything else.

“Hmm… This is most likely where your problem lies…” A latex-clad finger made faint contact with your clit, causing your thighs to twitch at the attention, to which he chuckled through his nose, “Severe indeed.” His hand pushed you down further causing you to be on maximum display as his feather-light touch grazed up to find your glistening hole. You bit your lip, but harder on a groan you attempted to constrict.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to communicate with me so I can know what’s wrong.” You were still caught up by how nice his fanned hand forcing you down onto the observation table made you feel, let alone his meandering touch. You could envision how lewd it looked, the image making you falter.

His index finger still lingered around your hole in no particular manner, as if he was genuinely taking note of your anatomy, “Surely you’re aware… Typically when your cunt is this soaked…” His upper half leaned over your folded form, wringing you out with his heady demeanor, “It means you desire something desperately.”

Your head inadvertently raised to try and close any gap between you, craning up in aroused dejection. You could feel him pressed against you, he was undoubtedly having his fun.

“Does this align with your symptoms?” A hand wound under your left arm, snaking to wrap underneath your jaw, forcing you closer to his voice, “Tell me.”

“Yes, doctor.” You choked out, noticing his eyes bloom when you called him that earlier, you decided to use your own trump card.

He groaned above you, his voice blanketing you, “There’s only one thing I know of to treat cases like yours…” He pushed his hips ever so slightly into your backside causing your eyes to flicker, “But you self-diagnosed before you even came to my clinic… Dirty little thing.”

He lifted himself to straighten, “It’s phenomenal, this human form… But it seems you are more excited by my barbaric, obscene interior…” A pair of fingers played at your hole once again, barely pushing into you, “You can’t be satiated by just a human… You want something more. Something diabolic.” Slowly, his fingers progressed as he continued to whirl on, driving you mad with his words.

He could feel that you were clenching, smiling with amusement, “Is this true? You’d prefer to be fucked by a beast like myself?”

How you’d answer that outright, you were initially unsure, but his fingers curled down, adeptly pushing into a perfect spot, “I-I… Yes, I would.” You loved the idea of him fucking you with his latex gloves, something about how sterilizing and surgical it felt.

“You’d like that?” He pressed, establishing a crawling pace with his hand.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Your cunt is so hot and wet, darling, you may just melt these gloves off…” He mused, basking in your pleasure.

You couldn’t help but let your body sway into his fingers, meeting his pace. Your whole being was throbbing, letting your satisfaction leave you as pants. You were growing more desperate to cum, wanting to coat his fingers with your release, though he pulled his hand away.

“Stand and turn for me, darling,” You did so, though slowly so as to not underestimate your delirium, forced to make eyes with him as he tasted you, “Utterly divine, you taste so sweet…”

You couldn’t help but feel scorn towards him, being made to watch him clean your juices thoroughly from his fingers, “Jesus…” He looked gorgeous, just like that.

“Not quite.” He jested, his fingertips reaching to play at your bottom lip until you allowed access, taking his lithe fingers in your mouth. He watched you intently, beyond himself as it set in that such a pretty little human would stoop so eagerly down to his level.

He gradually pulled his hand away, watching the way your lips wrapped so nicely until the heat of your mouth was but a ghost. He painted a trail of your saliva down your chin, making a mess of you, “Your breasts are lovely too, I must say.”

He stretched his gloves off, exposing skin with markings that resembled black, veiny cracks. You were not repulsed, quite the contrary, his skin looked like a glass mosaic, his bare hands cupping your breasts. Feeling the rough texture of his skin against yours only amplified his effect.

“Your reactions are too much for me, it’s making it hard for me to keep composure…” He played at your nipples between his thumb and index, making you squirm.

“I didn’t come here for your composure.” You placed your hands on his kintsugi skin, hoping to urge him on.

“I am… well aware, darling.” His hands left you, shouldering off his lab coat, setting your belt to still be within reach, “You’ll need to be fucked back into health.”

As he continued to remove his work attire, he continued to reveal his increasingly onyx skin, the closer to his chest, the more dense the black. It was incredible, you couldn’t help but gawk, to which he smirked almost sheepishly, “Why don’t you sit pretty for me back on the table…”

You were balancing on his every command at this point, loving the feeling that embraced your body in this moment. You hopped back up on the table to face him, spreading your legs to taunt him. He moved routinely to his lower half, adoring how you watched as his trousers fell for him to push aside along with his shoes. You wouldn’t say you were shocked, but his cock was surely not human, three knots that staggered in increasing size from his tip to the base. Immediately, the irresistible thought of him pushing you open, feeling those crevices move your insides… You didn’t think you could grow any wetter.

“I love that expression you’re wearing… The only thing I’ll allow.” His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his bulbous length. You had a paradoxically innocent urge to simply stroke him, of course never having seen this before. You felt sordid for being turned on at the sight of him touching himself right before you.

You took it upon yourself to let a hand find your clit, seeing if this would induce any reaction from him. It most certainly did, an inferno sparked in his chest, let alone his cock, as he watched you play with yourself so deviantly. He was debating… Should he keep dragging you around with his antics… Or are you in such a grave state that you must be cured right this instant? His own heart raved at the possibilities, mind flooded with a mirage of your pretty body doing such horrific things for him.

“What’s on your mind…?” He asked, his hand still cycling in a fluid motion in a stalemate.

“You.” You grinned, “What’s this cure you spoke of?”

Your being direct stoked him, causing him to chuckle deep from his chest, “I think I need to cure you until you’re properly bedridden, darling.”

You pushed your middle and ring finger into your beckoning cunt as you propped a leg up on the table, causing his eyes to immediately shoot to yours, almost in warning, “Please, doctor, I’m at your mercy.”

He let out an undeniable scoff this time, taking a few steps to near you as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away, “I fucking hate how you call me that.” He aligned the tip of his alien-looking cock with your hole, that being enough to send shockwaves through you, “Keep doing it.”

He decided to channel his teasing into you, only pushing his girthy tip inside at a molasses pace, finally coaxing out the most beautiful sounds from you. You both had unanimous thoughts of how good the other felt, your pussy was impossibly soft and plush, his length surprisingly velvety as he angled himself to hit that same delicious spot. You felt your hole stretch around his first, modest knot as he’d continuously remove himself completely to shove himself back inside you.

“Do you think you need more? How do you feel, darling?” His hand gripped your thigh that still rested on the table, squeezing out your reply.

“It feels so good, doctor, but…”

He was awed by the fact you could still be embarrassed to express your needs, he found it almost endearing, “But…?” He pulled out to admire his tip glistening with your creamy slick, waiting for you.

He was going to make you say it, regardless. Even just the sight of his shaft that curved upward so enticingly made you quiver, “I need more.” God, you sounded so whiny and small.

His strong grip on your thigh was alarming, but not unexpected as his first knot slid in with ease once more, though the second demanded more of you. Paired with the stretch, he was starting to push fairly deep into you, finally starting to reorganize your insides as you imagined. You couldn’t tie down a labored ‘fuck’ as he began to thrust at a steady pace. Every time he pushed back into you, an indescribably foreign feeling of being perfectly spread by each knot exploded inside you. You decided to place your hands on his shoulders to keep balance as he hunched over your starved form.

Your moans were of a heavenly timbre he’d never know otherwise as he experimented with pace and angle to see which would make you sing. Your wetness coated the very beginning of his final, large knot as he thrust into you, but you couldn’t imagine it actually managing to fit. Because of its shape, his cock accentuated the squelches from your cunt, the crude sounds seeming to bounce off the walls.

He found another spot deep inside you, concocting a burn, itch, smolder… Every sensation was being triggered as he sheathed into you repeatedly, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, “You can’t even cry… How adorable…” His hand found your cheek once more as his eyes seemed to reach into you, cradling your gaze.

He wasn’t unfazed, in fact, your broken moans were like shards of glassy pleasure in his lower abdomen, he felt deific as he took you. And you took him so well… He’d almost plead to the gods himself if it meant that you’d clench onto him like this eternally. For a demon, he was quite considerate, as he’d never force you, but he wanted so desperately for you to absorb all he had, his final knot prodding at your cunt.

His hands slid to your knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso, lifting you as soon as you followed. Gravity lent itself to the intensity as you were slammed down onto him, his hands spread on either side of your ass. While you found yourself nearly unable to make a sound, finally he seemed to begin to crack, his deep moans touching a whole new kind of place inside you.

“You look so cute, your wasted expression…” He held you with one arm wrapped around your back, his other hand playing with your lips, “I wonder how sweet you look when you cum…?”

You could only give him an imploring look, your body being split open.

“My sick little darling…” You felt his final knot manage to slip in a bit further, causing you to cry out in pleasure, “Cum on my cock…” His voice wavered in time with his thrusts.

If you were to refer to any orgasm as explosive, this could be the only one, having never been spread that wide. Luckily he could easily support your form as you convulsed and shattered around him. You could almost immediately be thrown over again as his last knot slipped entirely inside your cunt.

“F-fuck, darling–” He stammered, his face contorted with frustration as he tried not to cum just yet wanting to prolong this moment. You felt so complete as he held you, your head resting on his void for a chest, warming his knots. You wanted to feel his searing load paint your insides, but he merely held your hips in place as you felt his cock tremble inside you.

He managed to move, setting you back down on the table letting you lay back.

“How do you feel…?” His words sounded as if they were squashed and dragged under a shoe, so incredibly tense as he gave your gleaming body a once… or twice over.

You couldn’t control how your cunt continued to squeeze, “So good…”

He wanted more. More of your voice, more of your touch. He decided to pull out, painstakingly slow, somehow, much to his surprise, managing not to implode. You both shared a groan of delight as the sliding friction tore at each other. A ring of your creamy sweet decorated the base of his cock, he watched as your wetness seemed to pour from you as he vacated your hole.

You wanted him to feel good… You had a fiery urge to ensure he was satisfied, almost to a point of not being able to recognize your own mind’s voice.

“Can you stand up one last time… for me?” He sounded pathetic… No human had ever obliterated his senses like this before, he didn’t think it was possible. He found humans to be amusing little toys… Not that you weren’t, but…

You obliged without question, watching as he turned away briefly to grab your belt. Of course his body was chiseled, something he knew appealed to mortal toys like yourself, you got another chance to study him until he faced you again.

He grabbed your wrists, binding them with your belt, and raised them above your head in one hand. He turned you with his other, walking you to the landscape window in his third-story office, having always wanted to do something like this. A foot or two away, he stopped, pressing your top half forward at your wrists, the side of your face and breasts pressed against the freezing glass. You felt so shameless… And so empty as you waited for him to fill you.

“Do you like being humiliated?” His familiar tip danced at your used hole, “Answer.” His domineering words ignited you.

“By you.” You answered candidly, words slightly distorted from your face being held against the window.

“Such a good, slutty little patient you are.” He plunged the entirety of his cock back into you swiftly, obsessed with how his largest knot was absorbed so easily.

“I want you to cum inside me, doctor…” You whined impatiently, completely lost in him.

“I’m sure you fucking do.” His words were shredded between his teeth, “You’d love that. I wish someone could see how fucking bad you want my cum.”

“Please…” You urged him to move, still in disbelief that he buried himself so far.

He was nearly at his own wit’s end, thrusting himself up into you, his hips colliding forcefully against your ass. His free hand was soldered to your waist, ensuring you remain as a statue in this unpleasant pose, it being uncomfortable somehow adding to the storm surge brewing inside you.

“Are you going to cum again, darling?” Your eyes were squeezed shut, just nodding worthlessly against the glass as he cooed so sinfully. “I love seeing you dance so beautifully on my cock, give me all of you.”

His tactic of plunging his entire length into you repeatedly was something you were particularly susceptible to, his knots rolling effortlessly through you, “Fuck… Yes...” His voice was as smoky as his scent, fogging your mind. He slammed into you one final time, holding you tightly against him as you both reached your highs. His thick seed was so hot, coating your walls so deliciously, his pants raining down against your back. You felt strangely resolved like you had served a divine purpose by receiving his cum so impossibly deep.

He pulled your body close by your bound wrists, his chest flush with your back, potting sweet kisses from your neck to your shoulder. It felt as if you could nearly be bound to his pelvis from how tightly you were wound around his shaft. A hand dragged down, letting your arms finally rest as he delicately caressed your breasts, your head falling back against the top of his chest.

“I think you may need a follow-up evaluation,” He cracked softly near your ear, “Your case is particularly serious.”

#wrote this a while ago and tried putting it up on other past blogs...#gaap #ars goetia #monster fucker #monster smut #demon smut #demon x fem!reader #demon x reader #作文

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chelscait · 1 year

Text

we back. | Alexia Putellas

category: fluff, baby fever major fluff.

summary: where you and Alexia return to football from two entirely different reasons.

word count: 5.1k.

You were sat at home when you got the call regarding Alexia's knee injury. You were both set to guide Spain all the way through the euros yet neither of you participated.

Alexia was on the sidelines and out for the next 9 months whereas you were 'injured' for the next 9/10 months.

The truth is you were injured, just not to the same extent as Alexia's. You had picked up a slight ankle injury towards the end of the 21/22 season, only a sprain but you dragged it out. The real reason was that you were a month pregnant.

Alexia and you had decided that you had wanted a baby and you were willing to give up the euros in order to do so, Alexia was not so sure it was the right time but you reassured her promising her you'd be fine on your own and to update her.

The ankle injury was the best excuse to hide the pregnancy, pretending you were staying in Barcelona to do your 'rehab' while everyone was in England.

When Alexia's injury was announced it had brought great dread upon you, an ACL tear is a big deal and it would not be easy growing a child inside of you and looking after her at the same time.

Although you could see her struggling through the mental aspects as well as the physical, she was trying her best to look after you as well. The thought of her unborn baby inspired her through her rehab to get back in shape as quick as possible.

The black and white outline on the sonogram that was revealed to you both every appointment seemed to make Alexia's comeback near closer and closer.

Finding out you were having a little girl made Alexia even more excited, wanting to become an inspiration for your daughter even though you told her many times that she's not going to have a clue in the world Alexia was a top player for a while.

"When you grow up you are going to be one of the best footballers in the world." Alexia giggled as she felt the baby kick hard for the 4th time in a row.

"Just like her mama." You interrupted their conversation, while stroking her hair.

"Mamas, you mean?"

You just smiled as you turned back to reading your book, Alexia carrying on her conversation after finding out after tons of research that the more the baby hears your voice the more relaxed they'll be around you when they're born.

"Bebé, can you please stop talking about football the more you do it the more she kicks and it's getting uncomfortable."

"Sorry." She whispers against your stomach, pressing a light kiss before sitting up.

Whilst doing so you didn't fail to notice the wince on her face.

"Are you in pain? Want me to get you some painkillers?"

"No. i'm fine." Her face turns emotionless at the attention of her discomfort, getting up to hobble to the bathroom.

You got up after her to go and get her some meds as well as water to leave on her bedside table, opening the freezer and grabbing her an ice pack to rest on her knee.

Alexia had her surgery a couple of months back, though she was still struggling with the pain and it made your heart crack seeing her like this.

"I don't need that." Glaring at you as you walked in. Your rose your eyebrow, telling her to carry on.

"Do you really want to dismiss a pregnant women? You need it, it'll help." You scolded pulling the covers off her bottom half and placing the ice pack gently on her knee, herself hissing at the coldness, and gently lifting her leg to rest on a pillow.

"You've already got the motherly characteristics."

"Yep, i'm practicing on you." You gave her a humorous look as you pulled the covers back over her, "Now take." You practically forced her to take the pills with the stare you were giving her.

"See? What would you do without me? Pretty sure you'd be dead by now."

"Ha ha." You gave her a successful smile and turned back to walk towards your side of the bed.

Before you felt a sudden pain in your side, "ouch." You hissed as you bent over on the bed.

"¿Estas bien?" Alexia looked all over your face to check if your okay.

"Estoy bien, i think she kicked a bit too hard. Don't worry, it's okay." You reassured her as you got into bed and cuddled into her side.

"Have you thought of anymore names yet?" You ask to clear the air.

"No, it's too hard. We have to make sure that it's not the same as any of the girls we play with and that's literally every name!"

You giggle at the known fact that any of the girls name being used will end up with a fight or an argument about being the favourite.

"I've come up with a few. I really like Ada but it is the name of the best player in the team we will hate until death."

"Yeah, definitely not. I think something more Spanish traditional, you know? Like... Sofia or something."

"Mhm," You hummed before you yawned. "It'll come."

3 months later, you hit your late 8 month mark while Alexia was getting stronger and stronger, herself now training separately on the pitch beside the others. The team were wondering where you were though, Alexia having stayed quiet about you the whole time they've been back from being knocked out in the quarters.

All she has said, as well as the trainers, was that you were on a health break. You had both told Jonatan and the trainers the truth when Alexia started her rehab, they were all ecstatic and couldn't wait to have another baby in the team.

"Amor, where are you?" Alexia shouted throughout your house, expecting to find you right in front of her, instead just Nala bouncing at her feet.

"Nursery!"

She made her way towards the room with the ball of fluff trailing behind, to find you in the middle of a mess of baby clothes.

"Hola." You grinned up at her as she appeared in the door way.

"Ay dios mío. Do we need this much?" Alexia's shocked face looks around the room, bending over to pick up some tiny socks.

"I couldn't resist! I went out with Alba and tu mama and we couldn't stop fussing over all of it and how little it all is! Like look at the size of these shoes!!" You crawled over to pick the small converse up and shoved them in her face with a small pout.

"This is going to be one stylish baby. She's very lucky." She held her arms out to help you up, your bump now much bigger which limited your mobilisation.

"She is one lucky baby." You bit your lip as you stroked your stomach, "I'm so excited."

"Me too, Cariño."

"How was training? Venga, i'll start dinner." You took hold of her hand and dragged her into the kitchen, giving her a questioning look as she didn't reply.

"The usual, girls asking about you and how your doing and a lot of strengthening." Alexia plopped onto one of the stalls as she spoke, yourself going quiet as you got some ingredients out to make your favourite pasta.

"I feel really bad. Do you think we should have told them?" You whipped yourself around, hugging the bunch of ingredients in your arms as you lip wobbled.

Alexia's eyes widened, knowing how emotional you have been lately the hormones fluctuating drastically.

"Baby, baby, hey. It's our life, our choice. We wanted to experience this privately and so far it has been amazing, it feels normal. Besides, they all love kids and once they see our beautiful girls face all accusations will be thrown out the window. Prometo." Alexia was now in front of you slowly removing the ingredients from your arms before they are all chucked everywhere, anger was a big one of your hormonal moods.

"Okay."

"Bueno, do you want me to do dinner?" She felt you nod against her shoulder, herself lifting your head up with your cheeks squished and pressing kisses all over your face.

"Estoy cansada. I want baby out now."

"I know, i know, t'estimo tant. Go sit down, we'll have dinner in the living room."

She frowned as she watched you wobble off towards the destination.

"You're having the next one!"

The next day, Alexia was training anxiously. She had left you that morning with some minor pains in your abdomen, a clear sign of near labor. You had convinced her to go to her rehab to not cause any suspicion and promised her that you'll be fine as her mum was coming round after she leaves.

In the physio room, she didn't want to leave her phone behind, staring at it for a good 20 minutes before she had to go out.

"You can take it out with you." Alexia's one on one coach told her with a smile on his face. "It's getting close, it's probably best."

"Gracias."

"No hay problema, i remember when my wife gave birth... i was with her the whole time, might not have been the best time of her life but it was mine. Helping my boy come into the world, she made me so proud."

Alexia smiled at him as his thoughts drifted off, going to get a ball of the side of the pitch.

"Also, remember to not take anything they say to heart during labor. I had some pretty mean things thrown at me and the grip of the hand hold is hard, so try not to break your hand."

"Of course, i've already had some pretty stern telling offs. Pretty sure that after she's born i'd be mothered, still, more than her."

The feeling of the ball at her feet distracted Alexia from her worries, there being no update from her mum or you, her phone staying relatively quiet during her session.

It wasn't until she was heading in for lunch when she started to feel her anxiety creeping up again, not allowing her phone screen to go dark.

"Hola.." Mapi caught up with her, shoving her arm around her shoulders.

"Hola." Alexia smiled at her quickly before returning her gaze to her phone, Mapi following on.

"Are you okay? You never have your phone at training, you don't like distractions?" Mapi's hand travelled down to the small of her back, her head tilting in front of Alexia's.

"Sí, todo bien. Just waiting for an update from my doctor..." They continued on walking towards the cafeteria, Alexia then putting her phone in her pocket to grab some food.

Mapi immediately went to sit down next to Ingrid, stealing her apple.

"Hey!" Ingrid stole her apple back after Mapi took one bite, giving her a weird look.

"I think something is wrong with Y/N."

"What do you mean?" Frido now joined in the conversation, concerned over the state of one of her best friends.

"I'm not sure, but Alexia seems anxious... she keeps looking at her phone every two seconds and... just look at her!" They all turned their heads towards Alexia, Mapi's point being proved with Alexia resting her elbow on the table with her forehead being rubbed by her palm.

"I'm sure it's nothing too bad... right?" Claudia, having come over with Patri and a few other girls, tried to reassure herself, as well as the others, worried about her missing team mum.

"Hopefully... i just really wish that they'd say something. Like, Y/N has been gone for ages and hasn't spoken to us once. It's ruining us and our focus is not on football." Ingrid placed her hand on Mapi's back, rubbing it up and down soothingly in response.

Suddenly, a loud blaring of a ringtone erupted in the room. Mapi's head flew off of Ingrid's shoulder and found Alexia frantically getting up to answer it. With a determined look, she got up and slowly followed Alexia out the room.

"Mapi!" Ingrid scolded, knowing Alexia won't be pleased with the lack of privacy and respect Mapi is showing.

"Is she okay? Is she coming?" Alexia slowed in the hallway, placing her hand on top of her head.

"She is?? Okay.. Okay.. erm.. joder! i'll be there soon i just need to get my stuff, are you on the way to the hospital?"

"Hospital?" Mapi whispered to herself as she rested against the wall around the corner.

"Okay, give me 20 minutes. Tell her i'll be with her soon, and that i love her and she's so incredibly strong and she should be so proud of herself." She rambled through the phone, pacing the small width of the hallway. "Okay, right, see you in a bit."

Alexia tucked her phone back in her pocket, rushing round the corner to bump straight into Mapi.

"Maps? What are you doing?"

"Erm.."

"Were you spying on me?.. You know what forget it." Alexia interrogated before she continued her fast walk down the hallway towards the locker room, Mapi following close behind.

"What's wrong with Y/N?"

"Nothing she's fine."

"Alexia!" Mapi took a hold of her arm to stop her from going any further, "Dime, do you not think this is affecting the team? We're all so worried and it's hurting us thinking she's going through something terrible and we can't help her!"

"Mapi, i promise you she's fine." Alexia reassured, tugging her arm out of her hold wanting to get to her wife as soon as possible.

"I heard the phone call Alexia. Why is she going to the hospital?" She tugged her back towards her gaze.

"For fuck sake, Mapi. Let me go."

"Just tell me!"

"She's pregnant, okay!?"

Mapi slowly let her arm slide out of her hold, Alexia slamming the changing room door open and frantically packing her stuff away.

"You guys are having a baby?"

"Sí, yes we are. She's gone into labor her water broke, we wanted to keep it private. Happy?" Alexia shoved her shoulder into Mapi's and made her way out.

"Omg... Omg!"

"Don't tell anyone yet, Mapi!"

"¡Prometo!" Mapi squealed to herself, already excited to meet her bestest friends baby.

"So, did you find out anything?" Claudia eagerly whispered to Mapi after training, watching as she packed her stuff away.

"She's okay, trust me." Mapi smirked to herself, Claudia and Ingrid both giving her a weird look.

"Why has she been so distant then?"

"You'll see."

"Why not tell me?"

"Because it's not something for me to tell." Mapi patted Claudia on the shoulder, "I promise you, she's okay."

Claudia flopped onto the bench with a huff as she watched Mapi and Ingrid stride out of the changing room. Her mind in continuous thought about what may be the reason to why you had been gone so long, the knowledge that her football mums have gone this long without revealing anything to her made her feel unwanted. Though she couldn't feel like that, she was an adult after all.

Many hours later in the early morning of the next day, you were sleepily watching your loved one cradle your newborn to her chest. You smiled as you watched her bend her head down to rub her nose against hers, her eyes appearing glossy as she looked back at you.

"Oh, mi amor... she's perfect." Alexia bit her lip at the sight of her relaxed daughter.

"She has your eyes, and nose... practically all of you as she was your egg." You rolled your eyes jokingly as you shuffled in bed.

Alexia chuckled with a sniff, wiping some of the tears from her face.

"Elena." You whispered, you face displaying adoration for your little family.

"¿Que?"

"Her name. Elena? Elena Putellas Segura?"

You could see Alexia's smile widen, her face revelling in a small glow as she nodded.

"I love it." Alexia got up to pass the sleeping baby back to you, yourself moving over to allow her to join you. "I love you. I'm so proud".

"Oh and by the way, Mapi knows."

"Of course." You huffed at the lack of secret keeping between the two best friends. "She was going to find out sooner than later."

That whole night Alexia didn't sleep a wink, wanting to watch over the most precious thing she has. As well as you. She didn't allow her touch to leave hers, wanting Elena to feel she's wanted and protected. "I am never going to let anything bad happen to you, mi amor."

In response, she had gripped her finger so tightly, almost as if she remembers Alexia's voice. The whole night they stayed like that, no distractions just pure love.

The next few weeks were bliss, your daughter turned out perfect. You and Alexia had slept through most nights, Elena not kicking up no more than just one small fuss a night for a feed. The secret still going while Alexia trained, although with the continuous annoyance of Mapi pestering in her ear.

You had also started your rehab, though also in secret. You didn't want the interrogation yet and would rather do so with Alexia, your post natal emotions still not up to speed. You had been going into the Joan Gamper, the trainers helping you with avoiding any of your teammates, and training on a separate pitch.

After a few months, you both were back to standard fitness. The physios having cleared you to go back to training now after Alexia did a few weeks back. She was glad, you not so much.

"They've seen you! They know you're okay! I have been avoiding them for a straight year nearly!"

"Baby, it's okay. We'll explain everything." Alexia tried to calm you down as you were having a literal melt down in the kitchen after finding out the news.

"Oh hey, i'm back yes i've been gone ages, i've had a baby with Alexia and we decided not to tell you all, i know it's full on but we are happy and we don't care about what you think." You blabbered in the conversation, making out to her that this is a big deal.

"Why don't we take her with us, she's a bit bigger now." Alexia sighed rubbing her hand over her face.

"And what would we do? Who would look after her?"

"How about we meet them before?"

You stopped to think for a second, looking at the floor. Your trail interrupted as you heard a strangled cry coming from the bedroom, you and Alexia both snapping your heads towards it.

"I'll get her."

"No, i'll get her. I need to think." You rounded the kitchen island, placing your hand on her shoulder to push her back down gently in her seat.

Picking the chubby baby up from her crib, you rocked her on you hip to soothe her, pressing kisses on her head.

After she had let out a giggle from your silly faces, you laid her down to change her and grabbed her some clothes.

After you had done so, you pulled her up into a sitting position and she stared at you with a wide toothless smile.

"What am i going to do?" You ask her rhetorically, sweeping you hand through her messy dark baby hairs.

She just gurgled and slapped her hand onto your face, which she seemed to find funny. With a scrunched face, you removed her small fingers and picked her up once again taking her downstairs.

"ahh, bebé is awake." Alexia put down the snack she was eating on the counter and brushed her hands away of any crumbs before reaching out, Elena doing so too.

"Hola, pequeña." She had settled on her lap straight away, intrigued with what was on her plate, while Alexia pressed kisses to her cheek.

"I think i've figured out a plan..."

"Mhm, go on." She listened to you, swiping her hair behind her shoulders away from Elenas reach.

"I'll pick you up from training tomorrow. I'll be in the changing room waiting for you with her... but you got to be the first one in and you have to promise me that." You pointed your index finger at her with a serious face.

"That sounds like a perfect plan, cariño."

"Yeah... i just hope they aren't too mad." You exhaled as you turned to lean on the side.

"Hey..." She grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you closer towards her. "Don't worry, even if they are mad they can't be for too long. Besides Mapi will fight anyone off."

You gave a small scoff of a laugh and allowed Alexia to bring you in for a small kiss. "A little hostility is nothing compared to what you've brought to the world."

Elena also agreeing with a loud squeal, making her presence known once again. You both jumping slightly at the high pitched noise, as well as Nala who was cosied at Alexia's feet.

It was near the end of Alexia's training the next day and you, to say, were shitting it. You and Elena were sat in the car park in your usual spot before time changed, your leg bouncing up and down as you stared at the sleeping baby in her car seat from the rear view mirror.

"Okay, vamos. Calm down, we'll be fine. Everything will be fine." You hyped yourself up as you came back to reality, reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt and get out the car before rounding the other side to carefully extract Elena with her car seat.

Being careful not to disturb her you slowly made your way towards the front entrance, your hands shaking was not helping to keep her steady and you didn't notice that she was stirring awake.

"Ay dios mío! It's so good to see you again!" One of the photographers you'd come to know quite well spotted you entering before her eyes trailed down to what was in your hands.

"No you did not."

"I did." You giggled as you turned the car seat towards her view.

"Y/N... she's perfect." She crouched down to Elenas view, tickling her finger across her cheek which elicited a cute giggle.

"You have kept this cutie a secret all this time?"

"Yep, now i'm going to surprise the team." You huffed with pursed lips, still not excited for their reaction.

"I'm sure they'll be fine." She got up from her position still eyeing your baby with a big smile on her face. "Anyway, i'll let you get going. See you later."

"See you."

You continued your way down the long hallway before the changing room sign entered your view, pushing the door open. The sight of the changing room brought back memories, it hadn't changed one bit. Your locker still had your name on it and was still next to Alexia's, you moved over to it to finally place the heavy carrier down and look around.

You sat down on the allocated bench seat in front of your locker and hastily undid Elenas seatbelt to pick her up, needing a bit of emotional support. You placed her in your lap, grabbing one of her toys from your bag to distract her with.

You saw the time on your phone and it was about 2 seconds until training finished, your heart racing as you leant your lips gently on her head.

Your trance was knocked away when the door opened, you snapping your head up to see Alexia making her way over to you.

"Hi baby, you alright?" She leant down to press a quick kiss to your lips before pressing one to Elena's head.

"No." You answered, biting you nails with the hand that was not keeping Elena steady.

"It's going to be fi..." Your wife started before the door flung open once again an overjoyed Mapi coming bounding over to you.

"You stupid bitch! How could you keep this beautiful little thing from me!" Mapi giggled as she pushed Alexia out of the way to be able to sit down next to you, Elena seeming to like her bubbly personality and wanting to climb over to her.

"Hola. You must be Elena, it is very nice to finally meet you." Mapi started a conversation with the babbling baby as she got settled on her lap, fisting her training top.

"Is it only you training or something? Where are the others?"

"They're coming.."

All of a sudden, a loud racket appeared into the room, but turned silent once they spotted you.

"Where have you been?" One of them asked before you answered by looking at the baby in Mapi's lap who was trying to twist her body around to see what was going on.

"No way."

"What the fuck."

"A BABY."

"Everyone, meet Elena our daughter." Alexia slowly introduced the few month old, grabbing her from Mapi who pouted at the loss of her presence.

Everyone clambered over to Alexia and your newest addition to the family, all but one. Claudia was shocked you could tell, diverting her gaze between Elena and yourself.

"Claudia." You attract her full attention and reach your hand out, as she got closer you could see her glossy eyes.

"Clau... hey, talk to me."

"I thought something really bad happened to you... ¿Que cojones?" A lone tear fell down her cheek, you hand immediately swiping it away before pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sorry Clau, i'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you all in the dark, i promise, but it was too late. It felt too late."

Claudia sniffled into your shoulder, relieved to finally be in your hold after all these months.

"Can i hold her?"

"Of course you can, cariño. She's practically your little sister." You rubbed her back as you let her go, making your way over to Aitana who was sitting with her on the floor.

"Times up with the play time." You clapped as Elena looked up at you, picking her up and placing her onto your hip. You were just about to turn around when you were engulfed in a massive group hug, them all obviously being careful to avoid suffocating the baby in your arms.

"Oh... guys." Your heart warmed at the gesture, still feeling the love you have always felt.

"We're all so happy for you Y/N, even though you kept this all from us and made us think you were dying... we're proud and we love you." Marta pressed a kiss to your cheek and made it clear to you that all your worries were wrong, your post natal emotions were still strong and you were fully in tears, letting out a wet laugh of relief before they all returned to their lockers.

You made your way over to Claudia and Alexia who were having a deep conversation as they sat on the bench.

"You still want to hold her?"

"Sí, por favor."

Once you had placed Elena into her arms, you had never seen her react more positively. She took a straight liking to Claudia, wanting to be as close to her as possible and placing both her chubby hands on her cheeks.

"Oh wow. She's chosen a favourite." Alexia and you looked at each other in surprise, as you heard them both giggling, Claudia having found a random toy from your locker.

"Sisterly love."

Coming back to training with your beloved team made you feel on top of the world, your life becoming more and more the better. Having a ball at your feet to having baby snuggles at night, you couldn't see it getting any better. Until your and Alexia's debut came.

Jonatan had decided that it would be the best moment to substitute you both on at the same time, making the comeback just that little bit more perfect for the fans. You both were ecstatic you could be involved in the game that could decide the title run, especially when your daughter was in the stands.

Once the substitutions were both announced by the 4th official, the crowd went wild, mostly for Alexia as they were chanting her name the most. You looked at her with admiration, you loved her and you loved that Elena had her as her mother.

"Te quiero."

Alexia turns her head towards you, reaching to grab your hand without gaining much attention.

"Yo también, te quiero mucho. Ets la millor mare que pot tenir l'Elena i estic molt agraït que ho siguis." (You are the best mother that Elena could ever have and i am so grateful that you are.)

"Para, em faràs plorar." (Stop, your going to make me cry.) You slightly wipe your eye before running onto the pitch with Alexia trailing behind, looking to where Alexia's mum said she'd be with Elena.

The game ended 3-0, which meant you won La liga F. Hugging every single teammate that came into view as you made your way to your wife.

"Welcome back, Mama."

"Back to you as well, amor." She wrapped her arms around your waist and picked you up, your legs wrapping round hers as you buried your face in her neck.

She released you to find tears flowing down your face, her own softening as she reached out to wipe them away.

"Shall we go find la pequeña?"

You nodded as you felt her guide you over to the stands with her hand placed securely on your back, only revealing your face once again when you heard the familiar squeal.

Alexia had taken her into her arms from her mother while you pulled yourself together, exchanging thank yous and congratulations with your families. You could hear fans around you speculating about who the child getting so much attention from you both was, you basically giving the hint when you kiss her cheeks.

You held her close as they were celebrating Alexia’s come back, you refusing to be lifted up in the air, especially as your insides have not been the same since. Elena’s face was a look of pure worry as you pointed out the action, until you started laughing and she started too, one of the media personnel getting it on camera.

You and Alexia didn’t mind the attention, wanting to be as truthful to the public from now on after hiding it for so long. So, when she did her speech, she announced the newest addition to the team and confessed to where you’d been, Elena clapping as she heard loud cheers for herself before fiddling with your medal.

“We did good, yeah?” Alexia asked you later that night when she climbed into bed after settling Elena down, you snuggling up to her.

“Yeah, we did good.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #fcb femení #espwnt x reader #mapi leon x reader #claudia pina x reader #barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso oneshot #woso imagines

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lujingheswife · 7 months

Text

and it felt like home again.

summary: when he gets drowned in exhaustion and homesickness, the first thing he wishes for is home.

featuring: oikawa tooru

word count: 729

cw: gn!reader, timeskip!oikawa tooru, comfort, oikawa is just homesick, not proofread, intentional lowercase, a bit of fluff <3

author’s notes: wanna write a fic of a character feeling homesick and exhausted (because i was) and oikawa was the first person that came into my mind! hope you enjoyyy

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

it was seven o clock in the evening.

tooru limply stepped into his rented apartment, the familiar loneliness welcoming him with silence. his eyes felt droopy from lack of sleep, his body sore from multiple rounds of exercising and his arms bruised from the strong receives.

he should be used to this, which he is, yet it happened to be one of those days when he felt absolutely, dreadfully exhausted.

he would be lying if he says he does not want to go home; he really wanted to. the countless practices had always made him wanting to just pack his bags and leave. he missed his family and his mother’s home cooked meals, he missed enjoying authentic ramen at the restaurant near his high school, he missed being in the arms if his partner just taking his time to relax.

he missed his home.

tooru placed his bags by the entrance, not bothering to arrange them somewhere. he kicked his shoes off without caring to keep them nicely in the shoe rack. he let his legs drag him towards the nearest, softest place he could find to rest— the sofa.

the apartment was dark although illuminated by the light lingering in the evening sky. he heavily rested an arm over his eyes, a loud sigh escaped his lips.

the first person that came into his mind was you.

he wanted to see you.

tooru suddenly thought of his phone that was left forgotten in his bag. he slightly lifted his arm to take a peek at his bag, but ignored it after.

whatever, not in the mood...

just a little longer maybe.

when his eyes could no longer bear the weight of his consciousness, they finally put him into slumber.

he found himself in a dream. he was in a field of grass with nothing else around him. every direction he went showed no signs of obstacle, only an endless field.

what was he searching for?

where was he going?

he continued walking aimlessly.

ah... how long have i been walking for?

the sound of a bell ringing came to him from the front. it caught his attention, and his legs picked up the pace. there he was, running towards where the bell rung from in hopes of a destination.

a flash of light blinded him.

tooru jotted awake from the sofa as the sound of the ringing doorbell continued echoing the apartment. confused, he definitely recalled not ordering any food delivery today nor did he invite anyone to come over.

"coming," he called. he groggily dragged himself towards the door, not bothering to check his phone again.

his hand reached for the doorknob as he unlocked it open. he had not look at who the person is, yet the shoes definitely belonged to someone familiar. "do you need anythi-"

"tooru!"

what?

his once droopy eyes widened immediately at the familiar voice calling for his name. his head shot up from facing the floor, immediately locking eyes with you.

you stood in front of his door with a big backpack clinging onto your back like a koala and a luggage standing next to you. you were there, physically, in front of him, plastering a grin that he loved so much on your face. "you did not answer my call," you said as you pouted your lips on purpose, yet he was sure that you were simply amused at your boyfriend's reaction.

tooru remained speechless as he observed you top to toe, confirming whether its the real deal, his precious partner, in front of his doorstep. was it a coincidence that you somehow magically appeared in front of him like an angel during the times when he needed you the most? probably.

his hand left the door knob as he immediately pulled you into a tight, warm embrace. how surreal did it feel when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the coziness he longed to feel. he felt you responding to his hug as you returned it, and he could feel your familiar scent tickling his nose saying, "it's been a while!"

he stayed with you for a little longer before getting pestered to help you with your heavy bags. he asked no questions, just clinging onto you like a helpless toddler and ended the day with a cuddle.

and it felt like home again.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa fluff

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we-stan-cale · 1 month

Text

Since I've talked about almost all the other important parts during my reread, I didn't want to forget the sealed god's test.

It's just... So good I'm not even sure where to start. Like, this is a moment where Cale really shines.

Cale. Rok Soo, which we're told means 'to always grow green, even in winter'.

And we see that in this test.

The sealed god throws him into one of the worst moments of his life, expressly to make him despair.

Instead, Cale takes that moment and uses it to rewrite the past, and erase all his regrets.

This is where we really get to see what post-apocalyptic Korea was like. And over and over again we learn how badly things went then, even as Cale makes sure it doesn't happen like that again.

We also see some of his years of experience, and maturity. Especially with how he handles Park Jin Tae, who was a bully and a tyrant - and also died in Cale's first life, fighting to save everyone in the shelter.

You can see what we've seen all along. Cale doesn't judge leaders by the petty stuff. He judges them on how well they take care of their people.

This is also where Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu really become an amazing trio.

Choi Han, who bargains a large chunk of his life away (just the time he'd be alone, as he ties the length of his life to Raons) in order to join Cale in his test.

And Alberu, who the Sun God helps possess a monster called the Dark Tiger when his real body is sleeping.

Those three are so tight knit now, it's beautiful. Real ride or die friends.

Especially when you remember where they all started.

It's also, as always, a time where you have to pay attention to the subtleties. This is Cale's past, and he's focused on making sure everyone survives... But Choi Han and especially Alberu can see the desperation, the struggle, and the near starvation of all the survivors. Alberu has a couple of moments when he's out of the test and giving updates to their friends, and you see him struggling. Because Cale asked him not to overly stress them (the kids especially) and basically say it's fine... And Alberu's like 'how can I tell them that?!?'

And then, naturally, there's Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk.

Younger versions, and not the ones Cale knew. But still, we get to learn more about his earlier found family.

We also see things going on back at home. Since his physical body is still there, his friends have to rescue him.

And we see how they're able to perform, even without Cale to call the shots.

We especially see how well Raon has grown, as he makes important decisions on how to find the monster statues.

Even more importantly, we have this at the end.

– Do you really think that this moment is the end of despair? Cale looked down at the rose gold lights burning in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak. ‘Is this moment the end of despair? No. Absolutely not.’ “This is just the beginning of the despair in this world.” It was just the beginning. Despair would reveal itself in many different forms in this world from now on. “But people have hope now.” After about a year since the world had turned into a mess… The people who had always lost, struggled, and barely managed to survive will be victorious for the first time. They would destroy this despair known as an unranked monster. The sealed god who had been silent for a moment asked as if he was sneering at Cale. – Do you have hope as well? It seemed to be implying that Cale was someone who could not have hope. That was how it sounded to Cale. Cale slowly shook his head. “No.” He did not have hope. However… “I have certainty.” Cale needed something more certain than hope. Finally, he had gotten it. “This place will draw a different future than my past. I’m certain of it.” He was certain that more people would survive than in his past. He was certain that they would have better lives. That was not speculation. Although it was a future that was yet to come, Cale believed it to be the truth. In fact, Cale wanted to be the one to finish the first step toward that certainty. The burning rose gold thunderbolts moved away from Cale’s hands. He started to speak again. “This is the first time I’m saying this to a god.” Toward the silent sealed god… To the god who had tried to give him despair… Cale said the following. “Thanks.” He really meant it. “My memories didn’t end in despair thanks to you.”

It's not that he defeated despair. That despair will no longer exist.

But there's hope, and he is certain that the future will be better.

And even more so - he is grateful that he had this chance to change his memories.

He took this thing that was supposed to break him, and used it to fix himself instead.

#tcf #lcf #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #sealed god's test #totcf

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evieskiesss · 7 months

Text

21ST- TOM KAULITZ

a/n: you guys should read my wattpad which includes SOO many more of these imagines. i just upload some of them on here :)

𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙎𝙏, 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿 𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 + 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe that it was now the fourth time this week that Tom hadn't been home at his usual time. It was now nearing 11 pm, it being far from his usual arrival at 9.

Your calls were ignored, messages unread as you tried to contact him for the fifth time tonight. The light from the kitchen lightly dimmed the living room, the soft blanket on you failing to bring you the comfort you had hoped for.

This was week the same as the last. Tom arriving home late, missed calls and ignored messages, his cold responses leaving you in the gutter as you tried to ask him where he had been. "out with the guys," always being his response.

A key rattled into the doorknob, you sat up as the door pushed itself open. Tom had his head down as he locked the door behind him, kicking his shoes off beside it. You watched him in the dark now turn around, nearly jump back at your presence.

"shit," he chuckled, "you scared me." You didn't smile. He swiped his bottom lip with his thumb, taking a small step toward the couch you sat on. "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked, no real concern detected in his tone.

"shouldn't you be?"

He gave you an odd look, "what do you mean?"

You blinked, "you haven't answered my messages, nor my calls." He took his bottom lip between his teeth, "didn't receive them," he shrugged. He looked away, now walking toward the kitchen.

You swore you physically felt your heart crack a little. He grabbed a cup, filling it with water as he chugged it down. You got up, standing at the edge of the kitchen, watching him place the cup into the sink.

He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, fingers gripping the sink as his muscles continued to tense. "where were you?" you questioned, voice small as you were afraid of the answer.

Perhaps you didn't want to know, perhaps you did. You weren't exactly sure of what you wanted him to say, you didn't know if you wanted the truth just yet.

He removed his hand from the back of his neck, "out with the guys." You could've almost tasted the sentence itself, after having heard it so many times, it had just lost its significance. You opened your mouth to speak, before being abruptly cut off.

He turned around swiftly, "i'm tired. we should sleep," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before squeezing his way past you, toward your shared bedroom. Before you even knew it, there it was.

The soft scent of a floral & sweet perfume. It had hit you the second he brushed right past you, the scent lingering even after he left. You smelled the air once more. jasmine, blackberry, rose & honey.

Your skin went cold, it was a scent far too feminine to be a cologne. Far too floral, too sweet, too fruity, too.. womanly. God knows how long you stood in that kitchen, searching your surroundings for what else could've possibly emitted such a lovely fragrance.

Your heart thudded harder as you couldn't find an explanation, it was sure that it was what you had thought. With a force of your feet, you pulled yourself to the bedroom, you were glad to see the bathroom door still shut, light emitting from underneath.

You brought yourself to the hamper, hesitantly lifting the top before searching for the clothing. You looked through everything, growing more frustrated as you couldn't find the outfit.

The bathroom door opened abruptly, startling you from your investigation. He walked to the mirror, patting away the small water droplets left on his nape with the towel.

He tossed it to the side, now grabbing some lotion to put on his arms. His eyes locked with yours through the mirror, then glancing to the hamper, if you weren't so focused on where the clothing was, you might've noticed the slight change in his eyes to see you standing next to the hamper.

"something wrong?" he asked, voice slightly weary, almost undetectable. "where are your clothes." you replied, your tone almost demanding. He broke away the eye contact, looking down as he rearranged some stuff, "put it to wash."

fuck. He avoided your gaze, simply moving stuff around before sitting down on the bed. You continued to stand there, not believing how cold he had gotten over the span of just two weeks.

He sighed silently, rubbing the side of his face as if to brush something off his mind. He looked tired, eyes slightly sunken in with dark circles, he looked done, but he for sure looked hot in some odd way.

You swallowed, "where were yo-"

He let out a silent sigh, "c'mon, let's just go to sleep," he muttered, tiredly looking at you, his hand patting the empty side next to him on the bed.

You held back the tears that wanted to come out, suppressing the ache that now begun in your chest. You blinked, not wanting to get in just yet. He stared back at you, eyes hollow as he knew you weren't going to give in just yet.

His finger rubbed his eye, "we went to the mall," he mumbled nonchalantly, his face flat as he just wanted you to get in bed. You didn't reply. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke again.

"babe.. just get in bed," he shook his head tiredly, wanting the awkward moment to just end. For some reason, you allowed the tired look on his look to win you over.

You didn't know why. You didn't know why it only took him to ask you twice to get in bed for you to listen to him, and why it took you two weeks of asking where he was to finally get a half-assed answer.

You broke your own respect when you walked him, crawling into the bed as you pulled the soft sheets over you. He rubbed his face one more time then turned the small lamp off on his bedside table.

Your back faced him as you bit your lip, contemplating what you might've done wrong for him to seek another woman. Was she prettier? Funnier? Better at sex? In what ways was she satisfying him better than you ever could?

He laid down next to you, his body stiff for a moment before he shifted closer to you. His arm gently looped itself around your waist, pulling your body to be right against his, his nose gently pressed against your shoulder.

He placed a soft kiss, "i love you," he whispered. it took you a while, but eventually, gave in to your hearts power.

"i love you too.."

You bit the end of the pen, eyes straining on the notebook in front of you. Your leg bounced up & down with anxiety as you thought of what else to write down.

SUSPICIONS:

arriving home late

came home smelling like woman

missed calls

unanswered texts

cold shoulder

doesn't tell me where he was

You felt slightly guilty, having to write a list for the suspicions you held against your boyfriend, but what else were you supposed to do? A couple of days had passed again, yet things were still the same.

Your suspicions grew stronger, but last night was the last straw. You'd lost one of your favorite earrings, of course after a breakdown, you searched the entire home. You flipped the entire house around, searching for the expensive earring.

A small memory popped into your head of when you had last worn it, it was on a date with Tom to a restaurant, it must've fallen in the car. So there you were, searching Tom's car for the earring, but to your terrible luck, you made a different discovery.

A single brown hair in the passenger side, directly on the leather seat. Your heart dropped, you had never felt such pain before, or so you had thought, until you found a second hair.. in the backseat.

Your stomach churned, all the little bit of hope you had remaining simply left you. You quickly shut the car door, tears streaming down your face as you ran to the bathroom, hurling out everything you'd eaten that day.

You hadn't felt such disgust. How could he? While you're at home waiting for him, he's out fucking another girl. And to make matters worse, the day right before your birthday.

So here you were, the day after, (your birthday), writing a list to use against your cheating boyfriend. Picking up the pen, you nipped at your lower lip as you added to the list.

Brown hair in car.

You sat there, staring down at the paper that held your entire relationships crumble. You felt nearly helpless, not knowing what to do. You'd spent the day purely trying to cheer yourself up.

You ordered your favorite food for lunch, watching some movies along with some snacks & a bottle of wine, but nothing seemed to distract you from the nagging question in the back of your mind, who is she?

A certain line coming from the T.V. caught your attention, it was a famous talk show in which people would send in their questions or ask for advice.

You leaned forward to grab the remote, turning the volume up to clearly listen. "-who cares about him? You need to prioritize yourself and your feelings. If that man is not showing you the attention that you deserve, then leave him!" the woman snapped.

The crowed cheered, agreeing with the woman. She smiled brightly, "You are far more important than some lame ass man who won't do shit for you. So what should you do? Go out! Have a drink, go out with some friends! Go to a club and meet a new man! Trust, there's plenty," she winked.

That striked something in you. She was right. If Tom didn't want to do anything for you, then you'd do it for yourself. You ran up to the T.V. placing a kiss to the screen, directly on the cheek of the woman. "love you Cathy Paine!"

You ran to your room, shutting the door before opening up your closet. You popped your hip out, nails tapping against the wall as you scanned all of your dresses, which one was club worthy?

You settled on a black/pink halter dress, it sat right above your thighs, an upside down V cut at the bottom. You curled your hair, then brushed it out to let the soft curls bounce.

You focused on your makeup for a solid 20 minutes, trying to get it perfect. After not too long, you were done. Dress on, makeup done & hair styled. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked incredible.

Before you walked away, you instinctively reached for your phone once more, checking to see if your boyfriend had texted you at all. Nothing. You stared at the blank screen, the rage of the past 2 weeks now bubbling inside you. Fuck it.

You didn't know if you were going insane or not, but you swore you saw Tom's car. You were nearly 3 blocks away from the club when his car drove across from the other street.

You ran the red light, following behind a couple of cars to not make your presence noticeable. "that fucking asshole," you grumbled under your breath, eyes strained on the familiar cadillac.

Tom's car turned a left, your surroundings suddenly becoming unfamiliar. "where the fuck is he going," you whispered to yourself, your car going relatively slower to reduce attraction to yourself.

You followed him into the street, before suddenly braking. His car was in the middle of the street, not moving. His head poked out of the window, looking straight back at you. Your breath hitched the second your eyes made contact.

With a swift movement, he pressed the gas, his car going at a concerning speed. "fuck!" you yelled to yourself, knowing he caught you. But did it really matter? not really.

You tried to catch up, tried to follow him, but his driving skills were better than yours, and within the span of 2 quick minutes, you lost him. You parked your car, immediately hitting the steering wheel. "fuck!"

You had him. The chance to catch him, but you lost it. Your anger only grew stronger, how dare he leave. You were broken out of your thoughts when your phone began to ring.

You hesitantly answered the unknown number. "hello?"

"meet me at 293 Monroe Road. i know something about tom."

The phone ended abruptly, the beeping sound frustrating you further as you couldn't question the person. The voice was strange, surely distorted. You were uneasy, but obliged.

It took you about half an hour to reach the location. The area seemed nice, not very secluded, in fact, the building you approached seemed quite nice.

The outside seemed to have been painted recently, the outside brightly illuminated. Your phone buzzed.

go in through the back.

You sighed, now getting nervous. Your heels clicked against the concrete as you walked towards the back of the building. A single door was there, a paper stuck to it.

Your fingers grazed the paper.

follow the path.

"aw, fuck no.." you whispered to yourself, now looking back. You couldn't see your car from there, it wouldn't be a bad idea to just run. But you were already there.

You took a deep breath, pushing the door and entering. The hallway was long, dimly lit as you could barely see where you were even walking. As you grew closer to the end of the hall, you heard scurrying.

You stepped back, listening closely. Nothing. After another deep breath, you turned the only corner there. It was dark, incredibly dark. Your hand felt around the wall, your right one couldn't feel the other wall. The room must've been big.

Finally, your fingers found a switch. You switched it on.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" an entire crowed yelled. You nearly fell back, eyes wide as you were incredibly startled. You moved your hair out of your face, now becoming aware of your surroundings.

The ceilings were full of mirrors, large disco balls along with silver balloons perfectly placed on the ceilings & walls. It was dark yet pretty red & purple lights lit it up perfectly to fit the vibe. Long tables of sweets, bottles of expensive champagne & foreign chocolates. The one that really surprised you, was the literal mountain of gifts, all stacked up into a tall pyramid.

You gasped at the sight of all of your friends, family, and your boyfriend. He stood with a large smile, two glasses in his hand. Bill jumped at you, engulfing you in a tight hug. "happy birthday!" he squealed, squeezing you.

Some other friends approached you quickly, bombarding you with happy wishes, gifts and hugs. You accepted it all gladly, but we're still somewhat confused.

"happy birthday, princess," he congratulated you, handing you a glass. You were more than confused, accepting the drink in your hand. "w-wait, i'm- im mad at you!"

He nodded, pursing his lips. "i know you are, honey. but-"

"-but nothing!" you cut him off. You stared at him blankly, "you- you're cheating!". Tom's face dropped, along with Bills, Georg's & Gustav's. "what?"

Your mouth was open, but a sound struggled to come out. "you- you never answer me! you smelt like woman and- i found a brown hair! two in your car!"

Tom's head quickly turned to Georg, both of them staring at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. They hit each others arms as they laughed, tears threatening to spill out of their eyes before they straightened themselves up.

"what- what's so funny?!"

Tom wiped a tear, "baby, that's Georg's hair!". Georg continued laughing, hunched over as he held his stomach. His hair moved with his movements, swaying. You took a close look, the length, color and tone matched it perfectly.

"i shed sometimes!"

"how would it have gotten in the backseat?" you questioned him.

"maybe when putting all of the gifts into the backseat! We spent like 20 whole minutes purely putting in gifts!"

Tom's hand came to your lower back, holding you softly. You turned to him again, your finger to his chest. "then how do you explain smelling like woman!"

He chuckled, "had to smell every one of them to get it right." Bill turned to you with an annoyed expression, "he had us at there at the mall for two hours just looking for the perfect perfume!" he whined, dragging his last words.

Your expression softened, turning to look at Tom. He held a slightly guilty look on his face, but a little smile still on his lips. “i’m sorry, meine liebe. i’ve been planing this for weeks & i just.. i wanted it to be a complete surprise. i couldn’t let you find out about it. you really don’t know how long it took me to get all of this together,” he chuckled, arms wrapping around you lovingly.

You smiled, looking around you. The place was absolutely gorgeous, the decorations were beautiful, it genuinely must’ve costed him thousands.

“babe, how much did this all cost?” you worried slightly. He shook his head, bringing your body closer to his, “that doesn’t matter, schatz. i did this all for you,” he smiled, bringing himself close for a sweet kiss.

Of course, he wasn’t going to tell you the amount he spent… which was definitely in the thousands place. He didn’t care that he spent literal hours searching for the perfect perfumes, the dress he bought you, the shoes, the jewelry, and all of the decorations.

The decorations being one of the hardest to find. Some things had to be exported from France, some from Belgium & so on. Although he did hire a party planner, he needed it to be perfect.

You smiled into the kiss, holding his face tenderly. “just thank me later tonight,” he whispered, his hand now giving your ass a soft squeeze. He looked at you up & down, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

“how come you look so pretty tonight? where you going?” he raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly as he smirked. You rolled your eye’s exaggeratedly, “nowhereeee.”

He laughed a little, knowing you most definitely had different plans for the night. He pulled you in again, kissing you with love.

“happy 21st, my birthday girl.”

#bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader #evieskiesss #georg listing #gustav schäfer #smut #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader

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sweetsweetjellybean · 2 months

Text

Your crush on Eddie was better off a secret and a kiss that should never have happened leads you into a storm.

I wasn't happy with my first version of chapter 4. So I polished it up and added a little more dialog. Feel free to wait for the next chapter but if you'd like to read it, either as a refresher or for the very first time, please let me know what you think. XOXO-Jelly

Masterlist Listen to Fake Plastic Trees Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Mentions of DV. Smut Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC: 11646 beta'd by @superblysubpar

A sharp chill nips at your cheeks as gusts of autumn wind blow through the amber-leafed trees surrounding Hawkins High's parking lot. You pick at the splintered wood of the picnic table beneath you, etched with initials and scribbles. The anguished croon of Placebo plays through your headphones, drowning out the sounds of the start of another school day. Shifting the pile of books on your lap, you steal a glance at where Eddie stands with his back to you a few yards away.

Lately, it’s like your best friend has purchased real estate in your brain. Daydreams resulting in hearts doodled in the margins of your notebooks a little too close to where you printed his name. His dark curls spill over the collar of his worn denim vest, shadowing the frayed edges of the Dio patch he had sown on last week. He's deep in conversation with Dan Shelter, a senior in the same class that Eddie would have been in if he hadn’t missed so much time after his mother passed. They both turn and look at you at the same time.

Eddie’s eyes narrow as his brows pull tighter into a frown. You push one of your headphones back, and the noise of everyday chatter and car engines bursts into your reality.

"You know your girlfriend is deeply weird, Munson," the spiky-haired jock says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, not even trying to hide his distaste.

Girlfriend. You’ve both tried to stamp out that rumor—yet no matter who else you go out with, those sparks never last and pale in comparison to the steady flame you feel around Eddie. Would it really be so bad if it were true? The answer scares you more than you expect.

"She’s not my girl," Eddie retorts with a swift shake of his head, his voice edged with that familiar bite of annoyance. His foot scuffs against the asphalt, the white Reebok stark against the black jeans clinging to his narrow hips. An impatient sigh pulls the fabric of his Hellfire Club t-shirt tighter across his chest, outlining his lean frame. "You in or out?" His fingers snap near Dan's face, the sunlight catching on his silver rings, "I've got other places to be, and you're not my only customer."

"Sure, whatever," Dan grumbles, extending a hand with a few crumpled bills.

Eddie accepts the cash with an easy smirk, teasing the dime bag between thumb and forefinger, letting it sway like a pendulum. Dan’s hand hovers while he glances around for prying eyes, but Eddie lets the bag drop to the ground before he can take it.

"Oops," Eddie’s voice drips with feigned innocence before he pivots on his heel and walks away without a backward glance.

Dan’s face ignites with anger as he stoops for the bag, muttering a curse.

"Always a pleasure," Eddie calls over his shoulder, flashing a dismissive two-fingered salute. A gaggle of pink-cheeked girls from the sophomore class crosses his path, eyes trailing over him like he's their favorite song come to life.

"Ladies." He extends an arm, waving them on, his voice as smooth as a melody. They flutter past with giggles and heated glances. Despite their whispers of 'freak' in the corridors, they all vie for a chance to climb into the back of his van when no one is looking – to be the subject of the rumors they'd later deny.

He never hides his interest when he likes a girl — everybody knows when Eddie Munson is into someone. But he’s never looked at you that way, never given you that smile meant for those he desires. And that’s something that has never bothered you. Now, it stirs something else — a green thorny vine wrapping around your insides. He’s just Eddie – your friend. The same old Eddie, you reaffirm, even as your heart whispers lies of a different tune.

Without missing a beat, he saunters over, the rhythmic clink of his chain wallet punctuating each step. He leaps onto the picnic table, landing beside you with a thud, sending vibrations through the timeworn wood. His eyes linger on the girl's retreating forms.

"You need to be careful, Eddie," you warn, tipping your chin toward where Dan is stalking off in a dark cloud of annoyance.

"Careful is my middle name, doll." He smiles a big, sly grin, dimples deepening, causing a flutter in your chest, an unexplained sensation that's become strangely frequent these days.

He nods at your leg, eyes dropping to your thigh. "What’s this?" His dark lashes make half-moon shadows on his cheek as his thumb brushes over the square field of bright white crosses covering the denim patch on your jeans. A trail of tingles follows, unbidden and unwelcome. You disguise the shiver as a chill from the wind, even as you crave more of his touch.

"It’s called sashiko," you explain, hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin as the ghost of his touch lingers. "The art of visible mending."

"Looks cool." His gaze meets yours, a little too intense and a little too long. Your fingers clutch your notebooks tighter, a shield against whatever this feeling is.

"Are you coming over after school?" Your voice is steadier than you feel.

"I’ll drop you off, but I’ve got to go back to the trailer after," Eddie replies, his eyes still holding yours in a silent conversation you can't quite interpret. "I’ve got stuff to do." Something in his tone suggests layers you're not ready to peel back. "Not your kind of stuff."

The house where Eddie grew up doesn't look the same anymore. Someone else has moved in – keeping the lawn perfect and fixing up all the broken things, erasing any traces of tragedy. The neighborhood has moved on, absolving themselves like they hadn’t just turned their back and let it happen. As if it wasn't their problem. Eddie's staying on the other side of town now with his Uncle Wayne in a tiny one-bedroom trailer. Wayne's heart is in the right place, even if he drinks too much, just like Eddie's dad did. But he's not bad, just... lost when it comes to dealing with an angry teen, and with him working nights, Eddie's on his own to figure out how to deal with it all.

"I can keep you company?” You try to keep the offer casual despite the hump in your pulse.

He shakes his head, a shadow crossing his features. "Nah, I’ve got to stop at Rick's, then a run." There's a hardness in his eyes that wasn't there before.

You frown and look away, hiding your disappointment. "I don’t see what the big deal is," you argue, keeping your voice low, "We smoke together all the time."

"The big deal," he says, reaching out to lift your chin and forcing you to look at him. "Is that this is business, and I don’t want you involved. Alright?" His voice is firm, letting you know he won’t budge. "I’ll pick you up later," he promises. "Movie night. Just us."

The shrill ring of the bell is your cue to retreat, to put distance between you and these feelings threatening to upend everything. You nod at him, shoving your books into your bag. His gaze holds you for a heavy beat before breaking away. There's a shift in the air, a prelude to something you can't name, like the static before a storm. Eddie's last glance sears itself into your thoughts when you part ways at the door.

As you make your way to class, those feelings nag at you like a forgotten lyric. You hug your arms, trying to squeeze out the persistent ache that spreads through your limbs. It's a tangible pain, this longing, like a hand squeezing around your heart, making it hard to breathe.

But you push it all down, guarding it like a secret. To lock it away in the confines of your ribcage, where it can't taint the one thing you value most. The friendship you've built is too important, too rare to risk on a silly crush that might only live in your head and fade with time. It’s a gamble you won’t take. You can't lose him. You won’t watch that light in his eyes dim for you, awkward silences replacing the laughter. Without him, you’d be alone.

Cold gray days give way to dark, inky nights. The stars and moon are veiled behind thick cotton clouds, stealing the light earlier as fall edges closer to winter. Winds gust, sending wet leaves sticking to the glass of your office windows as the bare fingers of the boxwoods planted around the brownstone scratch against the house in protest.

Lowering the lid of your laptop, the light in the room dims as the brightness is trapped between the two halves. Your arms stretch over your head, loosening the tension in your neck as you push away from your desk, drifting towards the sounds of life from the living room. Steve’s long legs are stretched out on the chaise end of the couch, a Bulls game on the TV, but his attention is stuck on the laptop resting on his thighs.

“My eyes are going to fall out my head if I stare at that screen for any longer,” you declare, rounding the corner of the couch.

“Well, then, come stare at this screen instead.” He nods at the TV, extending his arm to make space for you to crawl onto the couch next to him and fit yourself into his side.

“You’re so warm.” You nuzzle into his chest, and his lips touch the top of your head. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for bed. I still have a few hours of work left,” he sighs, his finger sliding down the trackpad as he scrolls through a document that never seems to end.

“Is that for the launch?” Your eyes squint at the brightness of the screen.

He groans at the ping of another incoming email while toggling between the many windows he has open. “Yeah, we're in the final stretch. The event team is trying to finalize the details. Maroon 5 and Fallout Boy are locked in to perform, but we’re still waiting to hear back from a few other acts and about a million other details that need ironing out.”

“It’s going to be a great night, baby. Everyone will be so impressed,” you assure, the arm you have draped across his stomach tightening, trying to impress your words into him. “Everything is going to go smoothly, you’ll see.”

He scoffs, doubt clouding his voice. “I wish I had your confidence. The server's capacity is still a question mark, and we're racing to fix streaming delays. Fuck!” The heels of his hands press into his eyes. “All I need is this thing to fail at the last minute, especially with Richard and my dad watching.” He imitates his father's stern tone, “Typical. He’s always been a fuck up. Chokes right before the buzzer.” Letting his hands drop, his eyes turn to you. “I should have listened to you and not invited my parents. I actually never thought they would agree to come. Now I’m running around trying to get things ready for them too.”

“Hey,” you take one of his hands between yours, “That’s not going to happen, Steve. If the servers have issues or if there's a lag, it's just a hiccup. You've got a team to handle that. You've put in the work, and you're brilliant at what you do. Your parents will see that. Everyone will.”

He manages a smile, but it’s just a placation.

“What can I do to help?” You ask, “I’ll make sure we have some Pellegrino stocked and that cheese your parents like.”

There's a pause as he weighs his next words. “I’ve already called the housekeeper and told them to put fresh sheets in the guest room in case they decide to stay here, but I still need to make a reservation at the Four Seasons as a backup.”

Your jaw tightens, but you curb your annoyance at how John Harrington has everyone trained to cater to his high-maintenance whims, but this is for Steve’s peace of mind. “I’ll call first thing tomorrow. Consider it done. Anything else?”

He hesitates, a little apologetic. "My suit... the dry cleaner closes early tomorrow. I hate to ask, but I might not make it in time–"

“No problem. I’ll make time.”

His lips lift at the corners, and this time, his smile reaches his eyes. “I love you.” He leans forward, slotting his lip softly between yours. “I’ll put the ticket in your bag. Thanks for helping out, Ace.”

“I just have Eddie's interview tomorrow afternoon. I should have plenty of time." Standing, you tug at his hand. "Now, can we go to bed? Everything will look better after a good night's sleep.”

His mouth sets in a determined line as he shuts down his laptop, yielding to your pull as he rises. His hand finds a place on the small of your back, grounding you both as you climb the stairs together.

Hitching the strap of your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, you kick at a loose stone on the sidewalk in front of the brick building. Car horns blare in the distance as traffic rolls by in the busy neighborhood. The sun casts a glint off the steel CursedSound sign, its metal already weathering with a faint tinge of color. The heavy door is yanked open, its clank and whine making you jump.

"Hi," Eddie greets you with a soft tone from the other side of the threshold.

"Hi," you return, shyness adding a tremble to your voice that shouldn’t be there. His fingers grip the edge of the door, and light flashes off the Rolex peeking out from under the cuff of the plaid flannel he wears over a fitted v-neck and jeans, the fabric snug against his defined shoulders. It’s still a novelty to see how his slim build has filled in over the years. Part of you still expects the boy you knew instead of this man in front of you. He looks you over in the same way, like he’s trying to decide if you’re really there. Maybe it’s the differences he sees in you, too, or does he still see the lonely girl he once knew? You shift your gaze down the street, your toes curling inside your Converse as warmth climbs up your neck. "Are you going to let me in?"

"I don't know." He pretends to ponder, a smile forming, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Where's your hard hat?"

Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips until he breaks into a chuckle. He swings the door open wider, welcoming you in. You pass him with a shake of your head and continue down the hall.

The lobby is in chaos.

"Sorry for the mess. The maid took the week off," he quips, watching you take in the space.

The brown paper has been removed from the windows, allowing bright light to stream through the streaked and dirty glass. All the furniture has been pushed toward the center of the room, and ladders and paint cans litter the floor space. A large mural wrapping around the windows and front entrance has been outlined but not completed. In the same graffiti style as the one upstairs, this one displays more cityscapes with waves of the lake breaking at the forefront. Winged skulls and guitars blend with colorful swirls of clouds rising toward the ceiling.

"It’s perfect," you tell him as your eyes follow the sweeping, colorful lines around the room. “Really beautiful.”

"Was that a compliment?" He asks, coming up behind you, his breath a warm whisper against your ear. "I thought it was a dump."

"Well, what can I say?” You spin around. “It’s growing on me." Your fingers move to your lips, concealing your smile as his deepens with your praise.

"You look really good." His low voice bounces off the empty walls, "I mean…your, uh, outfit is nice." He waves his hand toward you before wiping it on the front of his jeans.

Your brows raise as you glance down at the jeans and plain Lolla tee you put on this morning. None of the trendy outfits you usually wear for interviews seemed to fit right today.

"Wow, that was smooth," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don’t know why I’m so nervous."

The fluttering in your stomach matches his energy. “Maybe it’s because I’m going to get you to spill all your secrets and print them so the whole world can sit in judgment."

A choked sound comes from his throat as his eyes widen into saucers.

Unable to keep a straight face, you giggle. "Relax, Eddie. I already told you I’m not writing some hit piece. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides," you shrug, "It’s only me."

A sharp breath escapes as his shoulders lower. "Yeah, you’re right." He says, taking a step forward, his gaze locking with yours. "After all these years, it's still you.

"Eddie." His name comes out on a breathless sigh as you look away. The shield of anger between you is heavy and battered, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can hold it up. He takes another step forward, and you clear your throat. "Why don’t you show me what else you’ve done?"

He rakes a hand through his curls, "Of course." His lips tighten into a flat line as he gestures toward the stairs. "After you."

You lead the way to the second floor, where the smell of fresh paint permeates the air. A ladder leans against a half-painted wall, and orange extension cords crisscross the carpet in the hall, winding into the studios like work has been suddenly halted.

"Where is everyone?" You look around the abandoned space before stepping inside Studio A. It's come a long way since your last visit. The deck that holds the mixing board is ready, and the wiring is underway.

"I didn’t know how long you’d be here, so I told them to take the rest of the day off." His eyes follow the movements of your hand, brushing over knobs and sliders of the soundboard that's still sheathed in a protective layer of plastic.

"You didn’t have to do that," you say, walking back out into the hall.

"I didn’t think we needed the audience," he shrugs, walking along with you to the next room.

"I hope you don’t fall behind schedule." The walls of the small Studio B are covered with walnut slats to create an acoustic barrier while still keeping the room open, while the mixing room kept the original exposed brick.

"I’ve got time."

"Even so," you move to the window. The sun glints off the mirrored surface of the tall building across the street. "I’m sure you're eager to open. Put out that first album with the CursedSound logo in the liner notes."

"Of course I am." He comes to stand beside you, taking in the bustle of the city at midday. "It’s gonna be good to have nothin’ between me and the music. Let the artists be as creative as they want. Their management can deal with the corporate A&R people and leave me out of it."

"You never did like playing by the rules," you smile, catching his eyes in the reflection of the glass.

He turns his head, studying your profile. "Why should I?" he continues, his tone more determined, "The rules sure as hell never helped me. I'm gonna take my chances as I find them, even if I have to play a little dirty. I deserve happiness the same as the next guy."

"Of course you do." The world has done nothing but take from him.

"What about you?" He asks as you return to the hall. "The rules seemed to be treating you well."

You raise your shoulders with a warm smile gracing your lips, one you have no intention of concealing. "I love my job. I like the city, and…I have Steve."

"You ending up with Steve Harrington," his voice curls around the name, a sneer you can almost see, "I gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming."

Stopping, you pivot to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "He's a good guy, Eddie."

He sighs in a short, almost defeated breath. "I know he is, doll."

The unmarked door at the end of the hall provides a convenient distraction. "Where does this go?" You wonder with your hand closing over the knob.

"My apartment."

"You're living here?" You let it go like it burned you, swallowing the lump that has made a sudden appearance in your throat.

"Sure. Can't beat the commute." He reaches around you, turning the doorknob to reveal another flight of stairs. "Do you want to go up?"

Flashes of that day are more vivid than they should be for memories two years old. The closet carpet is soft under your fingers as wet tears rain down on the glossy pages. Steve's voice gets closer as he calls out your name. A tightness grips your chest as you attempt to step back, momentarily forgetting that Eddie's right behind you. He supports you with a steadying hand on your hip as he faces you, seeking your reaction.

"No, that's okay. I think we're fine down here. I wouldn't want to disturb anyone," you say, attempting to sound confident as you wipe your palms along the sides of your jeans.

Eddie scratches the side of his head as his brow wrinkles. "Who do you think it up there?"

A hot breath passes your lips as you turn away, walking back down the hall toward Studio C. "I don’t know," you call over your shoulder, too chicken to face him. "Skyler Simmons. Rock royalty. Media darling. According to the magazines, your long-time girlfriend. The one you own a house with. Ring any bells? Isn’t she here with you?"

"My what? Skyler Simmons?" The deep belly laugh that follows has you spinning on your heels to face him.

"Wait. You’re serious?" His dimples make an appearance as his smile deepens. "Me and Skyler?" He can barely get her name out without chuckling.

"The one you’re photographed with constantly."

His brows shoot up. "Keeping tabs on me?"

"Oh, don’t flatter yourself," you huff. "It came up in my research. Do you have a relationship with her or not?"

"I know her," he offers, shaking his head, "She’s a friend. We go to the same group."

"What group? The one for annoying assholes."

He pauses, his arms crossing over his chest. "The one for people with addiction in their families. That okay with you?" His voice escalates. The simmering anger in his eyes mirrors the intensity of his tone. "Skyler is gay. Her girlfriend's usually hanging around, too. Does that mean I’m fucking her too? Jesus."

Frigid water clashes with your hot blood as the fight drains away. Glancing at your feet, your voice diminishes to barely more than a whisper. "Why hasn't she come out in the media?"

"Maybe because it’s none of anybody's fucking business." His piercing gaze bores into you as the sharp words land like heavy stones in the sour pit in your stomach. "Hold on," he waves a hand in front of you, "Why do you even care?"

"I don’t," your voice falters as the dishonest answer leaves you without hesitation. Your eyes trace the patterns on the floor. "It just makes for a better story, is all."

His hands run through his hair, fingers tugging on the ends as his tone softens. "Doll," he pauses, taking a deliberate step closer. His warm fingers cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those amber swirls, always seeing beyond your surface. "No one else is in my apartment, and no one else is gonna be."

His touch sends a searing heat spreading through your skin as the weight of your engagement ring pulls on your finger. "You’re a grown man, Eddie. Do whatever you want." Stepping back, his hand falls from your face as you turn and enter the studio.

"Fucking stubborn," the low murmur carries under his breath as he follows you inside.

"It looks like this one’s almost finished." You spin around the room, taking in the progress, before letting your bag slide down your shoulder and sinking onto the couch.

Gray triangles of acoustic foam now adorn the live room walls in contrasting patterns, and layers of soft carpeting line the floor. The mixing room's mural stands completed, and the furniture has all been placed.

His eyes move around the room, the pride evident on his face. "Just some wiring and the vocal booth, and I’ll be ready to start setting the levels."

"This one’s your favorite, I can tell," you shift, tucking a leg under you as he joins you on the couch.

"Shhh," he hushes you, raising a finger to his lips. "The others will get jealous."

Rolling your eyes, you pull your phone from your bag, open the recording app, and set it between you both.

"How does this work?" Eddie's eyes are fixed on your phone while he rubs the back of his neck.

"Well, typically," your hand slips back into your bag to retrieve the neatly stapled pages of your notes, "I ask a question, and you provide the answer." You set the pages in your lap, drawing in a steadying breath. He’s sitting in front of you with a key to a locked door – one that might be best left closed and forgotten, but it’s time to hear him out.

"Eddie Munson interview, part one."

"Mr. Munson." You slip into your most professional tone. "Thank you for granting us an interview during this busy time. All of us at Stax are very excited to welcome CursedSound to Chicago."

He leans forward, his voice dropping slightly in timber as a much smoother, older Eddie begins to answer, "Thank you. I always have time for my favorite magazine." He winks.

Your lips press into a line as you tilt your head to the side, taking a quick glance at your packet. "In April 2003, Fever to Tell was released by a relatively new band and a completely unknown sound engineer. It went on to sell over a million copies, putting The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the name Eddie Munson on industry minds. Fever to Tell is still, to date, one of my favorite albums. Were you aware of the significant impact this record would have when you were working on it?"

"At the time, we were really just hopeful, you know? We believed in the music we were creating. Karen and Nick, and Brian flew out from New York with their last dime, and we just got to work. Karen had this kind of raw, untamed energy, and I wanted to capture that, to add an edge to the album. It was this post-punk dance-floor-friendly racket that injected a much-needed dose of authenticity into a musical era that was getting stagnant."

"It's not an exaggeration to say that record helped shape the direction of indie and alternative rock for years to come. But what I want to ask is you before all that. What was the road like moving from Hawkins to having your dreams come true in LA? Was this the path you first set out on, or were there curves in the road?"

"I think 'curves' is a generous term for the absolute shit choices I was making for myself back then," he chuckles. "As you know, I left Hawkins about a year after I graduated. That town had already decided I would never be anything more than a freak– a loser with no future. If I had stayed, that's exactly what would have happened. I was trying to outrun my past without a clue what I wanted for my future. I had my own band back then, and sometimes, we’d open for slightly bigger bands that rolled through town. One of them was about to tour and invited me to go as their one and only roadie, and it felt like a free ticket out."

"Bananafish," you interject, swallowing and glancing down at your notes.

"Yeah, Bananafish. God, they sucked. Did you know they started as a Spin Doctors tribute band?"

"No," you laugh, "And that wasn’t a red flag for you?"

"It should have been. I wasn’t with them for long anyway. I think I lasted for three weeks before they cut me loose for getting in a fight with the drummer." He pauses, shaking his head. "I never knew when to shut my mouth. At that point, they had hooked up with another band called Everly. Slightly better, but not by much. I managed to hold it together for a few months. I was high or drunk most of the time, the only reason they kept me around was because they liked the way I babied their instruments."

"I remember,” you nod. “You’d spend half an hour polishing that Warlock every day after school."

"Got to treat a lady right if you want her to sing for you," he says with a sly rise and fall of his brows, draping an arm over the back of the couch, shrinking the space between you.

"I was surprised that you left it behind."

Eddie's expression turns more solemn. "There were a lot of things I wished I could’ve taken with me. But back then, I couldn’t even take care of myself."

"I don’t believe that," you swallow, the words sticking in your throat, "You could have tried."

"If I had tried, they would’ve ended up broken, and I’d‘ve lost them anyway." His fingers brush your shoulder, and you flinch. The leather creaks as you sit back against the arm of the couch, just out of reach.

"Back to Everly. Why did you part ways?"

"Oh, well, I fucked it up, of course. They had landed a spot at Bonnaroo, and I got so fucked up the night before I missed sound check. When I managed to pick myself up off the floor of the van, they handed me my duffel and a twenty and told me to pound sand." His eyes drift away, fixating on a point across the room. "I had barely been outside of Indiana, and there I was, stuck on some farm in Manchester, Tennessee, with no ride, no money, and no one to call. I was angry at the world and never felt more alone. People always talk about hitting rock bottom, I thought that was it, but now that I look back, it was more of a crossroads. If I had followed that darker path, there would have been no coming back. I was wandering around backstage where they park buses, hungover, maybe still half in the bag, and that’s when I met Max."

"Max Navarro?" You shuffle through the pages of your notes.

"Yeah. You know him?" Eddie’s eyes brighten as his gaze drops to the pages in your lap.

Your head turns from side to side. "You referred to him as a mentor in the Stones interview, but I couldn’t find much on him besides his name being listed as an audio engineer for several tours."

"That’s Max." Eddie breaks into a smile. "He’d tell you he likes flying under the radar. He was hanging out in front of the bus playing guitar with a couple of guys when I walked over like a cocky shit, picked one up, and started playing. He gave me something to smoke, and it wasn’t weed. All I know is that I woke up face-down in the dirt the next morning. I don’t know if he liked me or just felt bad for me, but he dragged me on the bus and had me start assisting him with the sound for Faith No More."

"Faith No More? Are you kidding me?" Your hands fall to your lap, slapping against your thighs, jostling the cushion enough for your phone to slide toward the back of the couch. "You had their poster in your room. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had a charmed life."

"Well, even the sun shines on a dog's ass some days," he laughs.

"So Max is who taught you about engineering?"

"Max is who taught me about everything." His voice holds a reverence when he says his name. "He kept an eye on me. Showed me how to work the boards. He said he could see shadows following me around, so when we got to LA, he took me out to the desert, fed me some tea, and exercised my demons."

"Did it work?" Max wasn't the only one to see shadows looming. Consequences of decisions made by others. Expectations of a community that turned its back. They clung to him like an impenetrable fog.

"I’m not sure. I felt lighter after, but it could have been the gallon of water I sweat out," he chuckles. "After that, he cashed in a favor and got me an internship with a small studio in Laurel Canyon. I parked cars at night and lived in a room the size of a closet at Max’s house. I worked my ass off. I went to therapy–"

"How very L.A. of you," you chime in.

"Don’t knock it until you try it." He looks at you from under raised brows. "It’s, uh, good to talk about things. Be open, you know?"

"No thanks. I tried that once," you tell him pointedly, the tightness in your chest returning, "It didn’t work out for me."

Your arrow hit the target. Regret flashes in his eyes. "Doll–"

"You decided to stay in L.A. and work at a studio instead of going back out on the road?"

"I like studio sessions. Makes me feel like I’m working towards something. I like completing an album and putting it out in the world. Some people thrive being out on tour, like Max. Not me," he scratches at his chin. "Too many ghosts on those old roads."

Like the ones back in Hawkins that jolt you awake in the dead of night, murmuring past shames of a lovesick and foolish girl. Robin had seen it, and so had the entire town, but you aren’t her any longer. She lies resting beneath the frigid earth, her memory an unmarked grave. You've moved forward, and you’ll never go back, the city drowns out the remains of her cries.

"So you stayed and built your life there," you conclude, flipping through the pages of your notes, ticking off the points from your outline.

Eddie leans back, a contemplative look on his face. "I guess you could say that. I got my own place, made some great friends. Sundays are for Max's family and Chile relleno. The weather is always beautiful. But I really stayed for the music,” he shrugs. “Have you been? I could take you some time. Show you around. Max would love to meet you, the girl I won’t shut up about. I think you’d like it there."

The girl he hasn’t bothered to call in a decade. "To Los Angeles?" Your gaze rises from your notes to meet his nodding response. "I've been a few times. With Steve. Mostly for work."

"Oh yeah. Makes sense." His jaw tightens, and he averts his gaze. "Well, I guess the rest is history. Is that enough for your story?"

"Yeah." You reach for your phone, tapping the red square to stop the recording. "It will be a great opening piece for the series." You pick up your messenger, hauling its weight into your lap, tucking your notes inside. The afternoon is ending on a flat note. A stone sits on your tongue, holding back questions that you lack the courage to ask, but maybe it’s better this way.

Eddie sits up suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Speaking of history, I want to show you something." He stands up, looking towards the door and back at you, "Um.. wait here, okay? I’ll just be a minute."

"Okay-"

He holds up flat palms. "Don’t go anywhere." His eyes close as he winces, " I mean, you can wander around if you want. Just don’t leave."

"Eddie-"

"I’ll be back." He holds up one finger as he exits the room.

With a sigh, you push up from your thighs, rising to your feet, walking through to the live room where a drum kit stands at the ready. The snare looks a little worn, and the symbols have lost their shine. Your nails tap the high hat, and you smile at the shimmering sound.

"What am I doing?" You whisper, spinning the gold band on your finger.

The sound of the floor creaking echoes through the hall. Eddie enters the room with the large box he's carrying obscuring his upper half. His name written in Wayne's shaky handwriting, peeking out from underneath his fingers.

"What's all this?" You ask as he sets down the box with a heave in the center of the room and sinks to his knees, hovering over the taped flaps.

"I have no idea," he grins mischievously. "Wayne gave it to me when I stopped by last week and told him I would see you. But you know him, he never throws stuff out. It could be anything." His hand smoothes over the top as he raises a brow. "Wanna find out?"

Your hands slide over your jean-covered thighs before your feet carry you forward. "Mrs. Click better not be in there."

His head tips back with laughter. "I make no promises," he jokes while you take a seat on the floor on the side of the box.

His mouth quirks up, watching you get comfortable. With a fluid motion, he leans and grabs a box cutter beside the soundboard. His shirt lifts slightly, offering a glimpse of hair trailing down his belly and the sculpted muscle beside his hips. His tongue lightly grazes his upper lip as he expertly flicks the knife open, his jeans snug on the contours of his strong thighs. Exhaling slowly, you avert your eyes, scanning the room instead as you wait for him to slice the tape.

"Score!" He pulls out the ragged-edged sheet that was folded and tucked into the top of the box. "Corroded Coffin," he reads aloud the words scrawled across it with something resembling shoe polish.

"Oh no," you laugh, your head turning side to side as you rock in your seat.

"Hey. This is rare band memorabilia. It’s probably worth money," he defends, holding it up proudly.

"Yeah, to the guy you have to pay to haul it away," you giggle.

"Alright, Alright," he folds it up, the smile never leaving his face as he reaches into the box. "These are yours." He pulls out a stack of comic books and hands them to you.

"Still in good shape." You thumb through the copies of Tank Girl and Witchblade.

"My campaigns." He pulls out a pile of notebooks and sets them aside before reaching back in. "Some CDs." He comes out with a hand wrapped around a stack of jewel cases, the one on top catching your eye.

"Hey, that’s my Cranberries Cd!" Your fingers dig into the carpet as you tip forward, yanking it from his hand. "I looked for this everywhere. I knew you took it, you thief."

"I don’t know how that got there," he scratches his head, "You must have left in the van."

"Nice try, Munson." your eyes narrow, "I checked there." You lean over the box, poking a finger into his chest, "I knew you had a crush on Dolores."

"You got me. It was the accent," he admits with a grin full of dimples, his hand closing around your finger.

"I’m keeping it." You drop back into your seat and pick up the case to examine the disc.

"Holy shit."

You raise your head to meet his wide chocolate eyes, a look of sheer delight written across his face. "Close your eyes," he instructs, pulling back the flaps of the box, hiding whatever he's found.

"Mrs. Click?" You set the CD on top of the comics.

"Better," he says excitedly, waving a hand toward your face. “Come on. Close your eyes."

"Fine." You leave one eye open, folding your hands in your lap.

"No peeking." He wags a finger.

Your lips purse as you close your other lid, waiting for the big reveal. Plastic clanks against something heavy, followed by the rustle of cardboard.

"Okay. Open."

"Daisy!" Your hands fly to your mouth before you reach out with wiggling fingers.

He winces as he hands over the two-foot garden gnome. "How can you call something so ugly a pretty name like that?"

Taking the heavy lawn ornament in both hands, you gaze down at her droopy hat and too-large ears, which stick straight out beside her bulging eyes and porcine nose. Her rubbery lips are pulled back in a smile, showing off her buck teeth and flowery dress that barely conceals her body.

"She's beautiful." You cradle her in your arms. "Besides, you're the one who stole her."

"You’re the one who dared me to," he scoffs.

Your cheeks already ache with an unrestrained smile as the memories from that night surface. "I didn’t think you were going to wake up the whole neighborhood crashing into the bushes in Mr. Lawson’s yard."

"I was drunk," he defends, his face turning red.

"You tripped over your feet and ripped your pants," you gasp for air, trying to get the words out with your laughter, "You had on those Garfield boxers with the hearts."

"Of course, you remember that." His laughter joins yours, easy and familiar. "You're the one that woke up the neighbors, making the van backfire."

"It was the first time I drove, and I didn’t have a license." You clutch Daisy tightly to your chest as you try to catch your breath. "Mr. Larson came out in his bathrobe, screaming about shooting you in the ass."

Eddie shakes his head as you laugh at his expense. "He almost caught us when you stalled out. All for that hideous thing."

"Shh," you cover her ears with your hands. "You can’t get rid of her."

"Never," he agrees, reaching out for her. "I’ll find her place of honor around here somewhere."

"Put her on your nightstand," you suggest, handing her over.

"Ugh," he says, setting her aside, "I’ll have nightmares."

You burst into laughter once more, and his eyes ignite. He smiles like he’s savoring every sound, like your happiness is a hard-earned treasure he's been longing for.

The shards of the past press against the scar tissue encasing your heart as if struggling to free themselves and reassemble in the present. Your hand finds its way to your chest, pressing gently on the tender center, trying to quell the ache and remain in this moment—with him.

"What else? What else?" You clap your hands, bouncing in your spot.

"Okay, okay," he gives in, happy to indulge you. "Um, a pack of crayons, a monopoly piece." He places them aside. "Thanks, Wayne. Could have done without that. Looks like some clothes. Oh, this is yours." He tosses a ball of red fabric at you, and you catch it with both hands before he continues to search through the box.

"Is this what I think it is?" His voice brims with excitement as he pulls a rectangular tin from the box. He shakes it, and a sharp sound follows. "Yes." His tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth as he pries off the lid.

His voice fades into the background as your focus turns to what you're holding. The fabric of your Musicland vest unfurls as you hold it out in front of you, the gold name tag still pinned to the front catching the light. A heavy sensation settles in your stomach, tightening and cramping as a sick, painful feeling creeps in and spreads — nausea churns as each inhale becomes battle.

There’s a scrape of metal as the lid pops off. "Polaroids," Eddie declares, his attention lost to the thrill of his find as he flips through the stack of photographs.

Your heart races as the room seems to shrink. "Stop it," you whisper, your voice quivering, your trembling hands twisting the vest as if folding it small enough can make the pain disappear.

"They’re pretty faded, though," he goes on, unaware.

"I said, that's enough!" The balled-up vest flies from your hands, landing back in the box. Adrenaline surges through your veins as you push yourself up on unsteady legs. "I need to leave."

Eddie's laughter dies in his throat as he looks up, the joy in his eyes replaced by confusion. "Wait a minute." He gets to his feet and follows you. The small pile you made topples over, forgotten as you pick up your bag from the couch. "What just happened?" He moves in front of you, blocking your path. "I thought we were having fun."

"Fun?" The word is a shard of ice. Without hesitation, you sling your bag over your shoulder and maneuver past him towards the door.

“Just hold on a minute.” He blocks your path again, hands up, eyes searching yours for answers. “Tell me what's going on.”

"What do you want?" The words slice the air, eyes locked, a bare blade of anger.

"I wanted to-" His eyes flick toward the abandoned box in the center of the room.

"No." Your head shakes, "Why are you here? Now? After all this time? What do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to see you." His arms cross over his chest as his voice turns softer. "I missed my friend."

"Your friend," sarcasm drips from your words as you quirk a brow, "So you show up here with a box of crap and a ‘hey doll’,” your voice lowers to mock him, "And I’m supposed to what? Forget about everything that happened and hand you a clean slate. Drop everything in my life to follow you around like a puppy because you feel like paying me some attention?"

"That’s not…I’m not asking for that." His hand runs through his curls, frustration building in his tone.

"I'm not going to sit here with you wandering down memory lane and watch you pretend like you cared." Your eyes sting, but tears won't fall. You've shed your last one for him long ago. "Like any of it mattered."

"No one's pretending here, doll." He steps closer, his hands falling to his side, fingers rubbing at the seam of his jeans. "Of course, it mattered—all of it."

Your bag falls from your shoulder with a resounding thud, its weight matching your resolve as you push your hand against his chest. "I don't believe that for a second. If it mattered, you never could have done what you did."

"Done what?"

"Left me!" Your hand lands flat across your heart. "Without a goodbye, just some shitty mixtape full of songs that I can't listen to without my heart breaking over and over."

"You're right, okay." His voice rises to match your volume, his fingers closing around your biceps. "I was a fucking coward, and I ran. I couldn't see that look on your face again, the one you had when I told you I was leaving. I should’ve said goodbye, but I knew you'd try to convince me to stay, and that was never going to happen. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I can't be sorry I left."

"Hurt me?" You push his hands away, taking a step back to control the cracking in your voice. "You didn't just hurt me, Eddie. You destroyed me."

He swallows, looking away. "You were better off."

Fresh anger surges, along with the strong desire to escape – to leave this dead and buried, maybe for another decade until the hurt isn’t so strong.

"See, that right there is why I'll never believe you," you snap, pointing an accusatory finger his way as you step around him, your hand closing around the doorknob. But at the last moment, you turn, wanting him to hear it. At least once.

"I didn't quit Musicland. I got fired. I was a mess after you left. I cried for days, but I clung to this pathetic hope that you’d call to explain everything. To say it wasn't the end for us. You wouldn’t just throw me away, right? Not after everything we had been through together. I wouldn't leave my room, not even to eat. I was so afraid that the second I left, the phone would ring."

There's regret in his eyes as he steps forward, getting closer until he can touch you again, one hand gently gliding up your arm.

"But that call never came, did it, Eddie? Not one. And every day that passed, I died a little. But then I wasn't sad anymore. All those tears, they turned to hate," you say coldly, locking your gaze with his. "I hated you. I hated every song that came on the radio, reminding me of you. I hated Hawkins and everyone in it. But most of all, I hated myself for trusting you. For believing that you ever cared about me. That I wasn’t alone. That's what you did to me, Eddie.”

“You made me hate myself."

"I’m so sorry, doll," his words barely crest the silence as his gentle hand cradles your jaw. “There’s so much I want to explain to you.”

His touch is hot, but inside you, a coldness lingers–inside your stone. "You kissed me. And then you left me the next day. You knew how I felt."

"I know. I know. I’m sorry." He steps closer, trying to pull your rigid form into his arms, lips brushing your temple. "You don’t even know how much. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing. Trying to make it up to you. But you’re wrong. It all mattered. I did care. That kiss..it’s the reason…" He pulls back and looks into your eyes, "You knew me, you always did, but there were things I couldn’t tell you. Things I couldn’t admit even to myself. I was scared and angry all the time."

Your head shakes as you swallow hard. "You're not even real!" You shout in his face, your fingers clutching the doorknob behind you. Spinning, you tug hard, but his hand slams against the door above your head, keeping it shut.

"Stop, doll," he pleads. “Let me explain,” but the push-pull intensifies. You're no match for his strength. "Stop it!" he yells. His hand pushes on your shoulder, turning you to face him. Anger flashes in his eyes, and his cheeks flush.

"I made you up.”

“No.”

“The boy I knew could never have done that. He could never have hurt me like that." Your shoulder jerks, breaking his hold as you attempt to turn away again.

His fingers wrap around the side of your neck, keeping you in place. "That boy could never have given you what you wanted. He wouldn’t have had the first clue how to handle you."

"Is that why you’re back?" You ask, still defiant even as his thumb presses into your throat, tipping your head to meet his gaze. "Dragging this all up again, ruining my life? Because you do?"

"Damn right, I do."

His words are a gravelly assertion, barely escaping before his mouth descends toward yours. For a heartbeat, the world pauses until your mouths finally meet — urgent and fierce. You part your lips eagerly, tongues finding their way together in a hungry and unapologetic dance. The firm pressure of his mouth moving in sync with yours is a spark, igniting a fire that seems to spread with each touch. The scent of clove and cedar leaves you lightheaded as the flames lick through your body. The scruff on his cheek is a rasp against your skin, a roughness contrasting with the smoothness of his kiss. He tastes like cinnamon and a hint of coffee. This kiss is filled with years of longing, swelling and crashing like an orchestra's finale.

Minutes slip away, yet your greedy mouths remain desperate. The room falls into a hushed stillness, save for the sharp intakes of breath and the sensuous wet slide of lips. The kisses seem endless, broken only by fleeting gasps for air, compelling you to pull each other closer, savoring every taste. Your fingers tangle in the soft waves at the nape of his neck, evoking a low, guttural groan that mingles with your shared breaths when you tug. His hands trace the curves of your body, touching every inch as they follow a path beyond your hips and ass, seizing the back of your thighs. With a firm grasp, he lifts you, pressing you against the unyielding door. You gasp as he positions you just how he wants — aligning himself hot and hard against your center.

"Fuck," he growls against your lips as his hips roll, igniting fireworks through your body. Your eyes flutter shut, and a kaleidoscope of colors burst in the darkness.

He nips at the plush of your bottom lip, teeth grazing in a tender claim, a muted buzz begins in your bag—a sharp, insistent sting—that yanks you from the haze back into the real world. His eyes remain closed when you pull away. He leans closer, chasing your mouth, but the moment is already shattered.

Your stomach plummets as the harsh reality sets in. His kiss now tastes like the ash of betrayal. The distressed whimper escaping your throat finally has him looking at you, shock written clearly across his features. Slowly, he releases you, your body sliding against his until your feet meet the floor. He takes a step back, hesitating, swallowing, "Doll —"

"No." You shake your head, your hands covering your mouth. The gold band on your fourth finger is a cool scorch against your swollen lips. "I have to go." You spring into motion, rushing to gather your bag.

"Stay, and we can talk about this," he implores, moving one hand to his hip while the other rakes through his hair.

"Please don’t," you plead. "Don’t ask me for anything else." You swing the strap over your shoulder. "I just ch—" But the word stays stuck in your throat, as your eyes swim with tears.

His face falls, "It's not your fault, okay? I kissed you."

"Eddie—"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It was me," he insists, frustration in his voice as you scrub your face with your hands. "I don't want you driving when you're upset."

"I'm sorry," you say with an aching heart, pushing past him and closing the door behind you.

The sidewalk blurs under your feet as you race to your car. Fat raindrops splatter against the concrete like a spray of gunfire, each one a cold, wet slap against your skin. The sky chooses this moment to crack open, unleashing a torrent that feels personal. Your car comes into view, a bright orange ticket flapping under the wiper. Perfect. Just perfect.

With hands slick from the rain, you fumble with your keys before throwing yourself into the driver’s seat. Snatching the ticket from under the wiper as you go and crumpling it into your fist, stuffing it into the glovebox to be dealt with later. The downpour drums on the roof, enclosing you in a watery cocoon as you search through your bag for your phone. A missed call from Steve and a text reminding you about the dry cleaning. You spill the contents of your messenger onto the passenger seat, pens and lip gloss tumbling into the footwell. "Shit!" The word is a half-sob as you clutch the receipt marked with today's hours in unforgiving black ink.

Glancing at the clock on your dash, it hits you with the subtlety of a wrecking ball– six minutes until closing. It might as well be in another time zone, given the snarled rush hour traffic and the river that the streets have become. Your car roars to life, and you pull out onto the roadway, tires hissing on wet asphalt, windshield wipers barely keeping up with the deluge. Your skin still sings with Eddie’s touch, but it's the burgeoning storm of words—cheater, adulterer, betrayer—mixed with the soft hazel of Steve’s disappointed eyes that tattoo themselves across your conscience. This is the unforgivable sin, and you can't undo it, but you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

You're double-parked now, hazards blinking a frantic rhythm. The 'CLOSED' sign on the dry cleaner's door mocks you as you rattle the unrelenting metal handle. "Please, please, please," you whisper, pounding on the uncaring glass, your unheard pleas bouncing off the empty shadows within. A car horn cuts through the rain —"What the fuck, lady?" The other driver yells, uncaring of your predicament.

"I'm moving, I'm moving!" The words are a rain-soaked shout as you slosh back to your car, drenched and defeated.

Another angry horn sounds off as you pull into traffic, carelessly cutting off a Yellow Cab in your haste. Rainwater drips from your hair, soaking your shirt. Even with the heater set to blast, it does little against the chill that has settled deep in your bones. Down the road, a bright blue sign glows like a beacon, and you jerk the steering wheel, the car fishtailing as you skid into the lot.

The pharmacy's fluorescent lights are too bright and too sterile as you grab a small bottle of mouthwash off the shelf in the travel section and wait in line to pay, the store's generic electronic music grating against your already frayed nerves. Outside, you stand on the corner, swishing and spitting the minty liquid onto the sidewalk, repeating the process, trying to cleanse more than just your mouth. A passerby wrinkles their nose at you from under their umbrella. "This is Chicago! You've seen worse!" You snap, arms thrown up in exasperation while the rain and your regrets mingle on the cold pavement.

With pruney fingers, you pull the cardigan you had left at Stax off the back of your office chair. Shrugging it on, the material dampens from your wet t-shirt but offers a little warmth. Your phone buzzes as you settle at your desk — five missed calls from Eddie and four texts. The roar of the heavy rain and being buried deep in your bag had muffled its sound, not that you would have picked up.

Eddie: Answer the phone, doll!

Eddie: Look, I need to know that you’re okay.

Eddie: I swear to Christ if you don’t pick up.

Eddie: Okay, have it your way. I’m driving to your place.

What? No! Your thumb presses the call button, and it rings twice before it connects. There’s no hello, just the slight hum of an engine and the rain pelting glass.

“I’m okay,” you breathe into your phone, “I didn’t go home. I’m at my office.”

Your heart drums in your ears with each second of silence. Your eyes flutter shut, relief flooding you when he finally responds. An exhale loosens the tension in your chest. His voice resonates in a dark rumble through the phone, "We need to talk."

“I….I know,” your voice wavers as you wipe your nose on the back of your hand. “I just need a minute here, Ed. Can you give me some time?”

The rhythmic blink of the turn signal punctuates his heavy sigh. “Yeah. Alright. But doll,” he pauses as the sound of water splashing against his vehicle mingles with the whoosh of passing traffic, “You’re not running away from this. And trust me, the irony of that statement isn’t lost on me. Think about what I said, okay? I meant it all.”

With a tight throat, you whisper, "I have to go," and disconnect the call.

Placing your phone on the desk, you dab the raindrops off your face with a tissue. The quiet of the office wraps around you, its half-dark corners and the soft glow from the monitors creates a place for you to breathe and be still. The raging storm and the ticking wall clock echoing in the solitude do little to distract you from thoughts you’re not ready to face. With a deep breath, you lift the lid of your laptop, seeking refuge in the normalcy of work as you coax the screen back to life.

The song erupts from the speaker on the edge of your desk, a jolt of sound shattering the silence like an accusation. You grab it with fumbling fingers, scrambling to press the off button. Covering your face with your hands, you let out a sound that is equal parts sob and hysterical laughter, wondering how you ended up in this situation. With your elbows pressed against the wooden top, you bury your face in your hands.

“What are you doing here, kid?” The gruff voice cuts through your misery.

"Jesus Christ, Hopper," you gasp, clutching at your chest, "You scared the hell out of me."

"Guess we're even since Mr. Brightside nearly sent me into cardiac arrest." Hopper towers over you, standing beside your desk with his hands buried in his pockets.

“You listen to The Killers?” You ask, surprised while he drags a chair from the next desk, its wheels screeching faintly against the concrete floor.

“You kids really think Jim Croce is the only thing on my playlist?” A chuckle escapes him as he eases into the chair beside you, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

You muster a puzzled look, shaking your head in feigned denial.

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. I don’t have much time. I’m meeting Joyce for dinner at that Italian place on Taylor Street. Have I told you about it? I’ve been dreaming about the breadsticks. Enzo puts some spice on ‘em, I don’t know what it is, but it’s good. You dip it in olive oil,” he groans, “Forget about it. Those things knock your socks off, and I’m wavering on the main course between—”

“I need you to take me off the studio opening,” you interrupt, folding your arms across your chest.

“We’ve been over this. Unless you have some good reason–”

“Eddie kissed me,” the confession slips out, eyes widening in shock at your admission, hands flying to cover your mouth.

His brows rocket upwards, then draw together, his gaze sharpening, voice dipping into a low, protective timbre, “What do you mean he kissed you?”

“No,” you clarify, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing an elbow against the desk, massaging your temple to soothe the forming headache. “I kissed him. We kissed. It was mutual.”

Hopper reclines, the chair creaking under his weight, his gaze level and unreadable. “I’m disappointed in you, kid. I never thought I’d be having a conversation like this with you.”

“I know. I know. Steve…” you trail off, eyes drifting to the photo of Steve on your desk.

Hopper leans in, his hand cutting through the air. “I don’t give a fuck about Harrington,” each word gains in volume, “This is about you and everything you’ve worked for. It’s 2012. That kind of nonsense ends careers. Do you know what can happen if he complains?”

Your eyes roll. “He’s not going to complain, Hop.”

“You don’t know that,” he counters, his head shaking off your naivety. “These things like this have a way of coming out. That was an amateur move. Where is your professionalism? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, lowering your eyes. “We have more of a history than I let on.”

“Well, stop the presses. I couldn’t have figured that one out.” His voice lowers in resignment, “Maybe this is my fault–”

“No–”

Your protest is swift, but he plows right over you, “I’ve babied you. Maybe it’s because you’re my favorite or because you were just a kid when you started. I let you get away with too much over the years because you’re a damn good writer. But that stops now, I’m going to treat you like all the rest of the idiots in this place.” His hand waves around the room before pointing right at you. “You’re going back to that studio, and you’re going to keep your dick in your pants and get those interviews done. If you want to play kissy face, you do it on your own time. You got me?”

Your mouth drops open, disbelief palpable. “You're still going to make me finish?”

“Damm, right I am,” Hopper affirms, not missing a beat. "If I hand your work off, it raises questions. Big, messy questions. What do I tell downtown when they ask why the piece was reassigned? Unless you’re ready to come clean to Harrington?”

Your lip goes between your teeth as your head shakes.

“I thought so.” Hopper leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "This could be both our necks," he mutters, concern filling his voice.

Your head shakes, but your determination is clear. "It won't."

“It better not. I don’t want to hear another word about it until that last story is on my desk. Are we clear?”

Your jaw clenches, the reality of the situation hitting hard. "Crystal."

Hopper's gaze remains fixed on you, ensuring his point has been made. "Good," he says, his voice softening, "Now go on, get out of here. Deal with whatever mess you've got going on. Just make sure it's sorted by Monday."

Your key slides into the lock and you turn it slowly, the tumblers falling into place with a series of soft clicks. You pause, leaning your forehead against the chill of the metal door, grappling with a rising queasiness that sours your stomach.

A wave of home's warmth engulfs you, mingled with the earthy aroma of herbs and roasting potatoes. The vibrant strains of Queen accompany Steve's honeyed tones floating down the hall from the kitchen.

"Welcome home, ace. I was beginning to wonder where you were," his voice, laced with a touch of concern, greets you, “Busy day? Did you write me a Pulitzer?”

Your messenger bag slides from your shoulder, giving into gravity with a loud smack against the hardwood.

His voice grows nearer, warmer as he moves down the hall, the floor lightly creaking with each footfall. “I swung by the Athenian Room, grabbed us Chicken Kalamata, and I have a bottle of Chardonnay breathing.”

Your favorite. Your heart sinks further, receding behind your ribcage, unworthy of his care or devotion.

He stops short when he rounds the corner into the foyer, taking you in, his eyes reflecting your disheveled state.

"I didn’t get the dry cleaning," you admit, struggling to keep your voice steady. "I was... too late."

For a heartbeat, he's silent, but his eyes remain tender. “Hey, that's alright, ace. I'll just skip the gym in the morning and swing by the cleaners before work. Are you okay?”

Traces of the day find a path down your cheeks as you sniffle and draw the cardigan tighter around yourself. "I got caught in the storm."

“Did you forget your coat?” He draws closer as you give a small nod. His hands slide up your biceps, continuing on to wrap around you. “You're frozen.” He uses his thumb to lift your chin. “How about a hot shower, yeah? I'll keep dinner warm. You'll feel better after you eat.” His mouth begins to near yours, but you turn your face away.

"I think I'm coming down with something," you manage, your lies teetering atop your mounting guilt. "My throat is sore."

Concern etches his features, his brows knitting together as he adjusts, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

Pulling away, you bury your face into his shoulder. "I think I'll just shower and go to bed."

“If that's what you want,” he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, though his tone is threaded with disappointment. “Go on up. I'll bring you some water and a couple of Tylenol.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you step away with a weight in your chest. “I'm really sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” He waves off your apology, his smile faint but sincere. His arms fold over his chest as he turns back toward the kitchen.

As you climb the stairs, the music snaps off, replaced with the distant roar of a sports game, the announcers' voices carrying up the stairwell.

The embrace of the hot shower strips away the cold clinging to your skin, but it cannot wash away the regret. Sliding down the tiles, you draw your knees close while your tears fall, mixing with the stream of water spiraling towards the drain.

Your life is a song made up of the choices you've made, each one a different note that sounded so sure at the time, but now the harmony seems slightly off-key. The steam rises around you like a specter. It's the quiet between the chords. And you're there, just listening, trying to figure out if there's a note you'd change or if every single one was necessary. As you nestle into bed, sleep tugging like an insistent tide amidst the drift into dreams, one truth resonates clear– the music plays on.

Song 5 coming this week! Follow @tornupdates for notifications

Thanks for indulging me with this new version. I wanted to get it right. This next chapter is going to be Steve's launch party and will explore the fallout from that kiss. I love each and every one of you and I hope Torn!Eddie makes an appearance in your sweetest of dreams. -Jelly

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #torn series

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lyvhie · 2 months

Text

day off | ldh

boyfriend!haechan × fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: a cozy day relaxing by the fireplace with your lover is the perfect way to spend a cold day. the warm glow of the fire and the soft, inviting atmosphere of the room make it the perfect place to unwind and spend time together.

a/n: y'all, some of my asks just disappeared 😭😭 but i could remember a few! pls, send me again if you asked me anything! anon, i'm sorry for not answer you directly, i hope you see this 😔💔

cw: fluff, smut, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, love/sweetie/babe as petnames.

you and hyuck sat curled against each other in the deep, leather couch near the roaring fireplace. he had his arm around your shoulders as you leaned your head into his embrace, while also craddling a goblet of warm tint wine between both of you. the heat of the flames warmed you both, and the cozy atmosphere of the room made it feel as if you were the only two people in the world.

“so, you are telling me that you actually liked me back then?” he raised his eyebrows, looking down at you with surprised eyes.

“of course!” you said laughing at his reaction. “is this really so surprising?”

recently, those moments together were rare indeed. hyuck’s busy schedule and your late work shifts always made it difficult to find time together. but, somehow, this day was different—your day off coincided with his, and you found yourselves at home at the same time.

this was your chance to spend some quality time together, and you knew that today was an opportunity you shouldn’t take for granted.

“seriously?” he asked incredulously, placing the glass on the coffee table nearby. “so, all those times i tried to make you fall for me, and you were already head over heels for me?” the corner of his lips turned up in a teasing smile, and he lightly tugged at the strands of hair framing your face. “and you never told me?” he pouted.

“that’s why i never told you, just look at this cocky words,” you said playfully, chuckling and shaking your head slightly. “but well, you were taking things too fast for me, you know i was a ball of shyness that time,” you explained briefly, shrugging.

looking back on it all, you've come so far from your timid origin. back then, you did everything you could to avoid him, but he always seemed to find his way to you somehow. despite your attempts to keep him at arm's length, he somehow managed to get under your skin, and you quickly found yourself enjoying his annoying company and looking forward to seeing him again.

"i did, and you were completely adorable, you know?" he leaned in closer, his face mere inches away, as his hands gently traced the nape of your neck. "i absolutely loved it when you got flustered and all fussed up," he said with a smirk, "you always managed to make my day with your reactions to my flirting."

“yeah, you were a real tease,” you boped his nose playfully, he chuckled quietly as your gently caresses. “though, i’m glad you never gave up on me, babe,” you peck him on the lips. “i wasn’t exactly the easiest person to deal with,” you said with a soft smile.

“you still aren’t that easy person to deal with,” he replied affeccionately, “you are still a little ball of stress and worry, but i can handle that. you are so worth the fight. i love every inch of you,” his fingers danced along the back of your neck, before wrapping their way into your hair. “i’m so lucky to call you mine.”

his loving gaze is filled with a softness and tenderness that reveals how deep his feelings for you run. it’s like he sees you as more than just a person, you are the heartbeat of his world, the light that fills his life with joy. when he looks at you, it’s as if the word just melts away and all that matters is you, you are all he wants and needs, and his love for you feels like is physically hurts.

when he look at you like that, your heart begins to race. you can feel your pulse quickening and your breathing becoming shallow in response to the intensity of his attention. you would never get used to this feeling, no matter how much time passes, he always makes you feel like the first time.

“i really love you, hyuck,” you finally says after a few seconds in silence. “like, a lot. i love you,” haechan smiled as he saw your expression, his face grew soft as you looked up at him, your eyes glistening with honesty, and he couldn’t help but feel a wave of feelings wash over him. “i really love you too,” he replied, “more than you could ever imagine. you have no idea how much you mean to me, love.”

he leaned in to kiss you softly. it was a gentle and tender kiss, filled with care and affection. he brought you close, wrapping his arms around you, and pressed his lips softening as your bodies embraced. you wrapped your arms around neck as he gently pushes you down against the couch, making you lay on your back. he break the kiss to move his lips eagerly along your neck and collar bone as he felt you shiver with pleasure, your breathing become heavy at each second.

his kisses become more enthusiastic and needy, nibbling and nuzzling at your skin, while his hands slowly, methodically start to roam over your body. he begins by tracing gentle circles on your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your entire being. as he continues, his fingers make their way up to your breasts, cupping them gently before giving them a light squeeze, making you whimper softly. he uses the other to slide down your pants. “oh, is my girl this needy already?” he asks softly, his fingers tracing small circles over the facbric covering your sensitive area, feeling how wet you were.

"w-what can i say?” you respond biting your bottom lip to keep sounds from coming out of your mouth “i-i’ve been missing you for a while now,” he move his head a little to the side to look at you, the corner of his lips twitching into a teasing smile. “i’m sure you did, love” he dips his fingers underthe lace of your underwear, teasing your wet entrance, your legs involuntarily parting further to give him better access. the sensation of his fingers playing with your entrance make you squirm against him. “hyuck, please,” you pleaded, moving your hips a little, eager to have him inside you.

with a wicked grin, he obliges, sliding two fingers inside you slowly. he watches your face intently, gauging your reaction as he begins to thrust gently, curving his fingers just right to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “that’s it, love, just let go,” he murmurs encouragingly. he leans in to kiss you again. devouring your moans as his fingers work their magic.

as he continues to pleasure you, his free hand moves to undo your bra, finally freeing your breasts. he takes one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently while kneading the other with his fingers. your head falls back, and you arch your back, lost in the symphony of sensations. hyuck knows exatcly how to play your body like an instrument, it was all about making you feel good.

“i know you’re close, sweetie,” he nuzzles against your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he quickens the pace, his thumb rubbing your clit in small circles. “c’mon, love, cum for me,” he didn’t have to say twice, you were already spilling your release on his fingers, moaning loudly, feeling your legs shaking a little as you breath quickly. hyuck observed how your eyebrows knit together and your mouth opened in pure bliss, he had to fight the urge to cum right on his pants.

he pull his soaked fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking on it while keeping eye contact with you. “don’t relax just yet, love,” with a smirk, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, you could still taste yourself on his tongue. without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling it down along his boxers, his cock rock hard, throbbing with an intensity that threatens to consume him. he was actually controlling himself to prioritize you, but now he even thought he might die if he didn't fuck you soon.

he pulls off your underwear completely, tossing it aside before pushing himself inside you. you feel every inch of him, hard and insistent, filling you up completely. he bury his face on the crook of your neck as groans, feeling you tighten around him, driving him deeper. “f-fuck,” he hisses under his breath. “feels s-so good, babe,” he kiss your neck.

he starts moving then, slow and steady, his hand reaching around to massage your clit while he's buried inside you, soon quickening his pace. his cock is like steel, throbbing with need and desire for you, stretching you in all the good ways. he lifts one of your legs up, hooking it over his shoulder to change the angle, hitting a different spot that makes you gasp, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he can feel every vein pulsing with desire as he slides in and out of you, your warmth and wetness enveloping him in a way that makes him feel like he's home. he's never wanted anyone as much as he wants you in this moment, and it shows in the way he moves - with a primal urgency that's both thrilling and terrifying. he's lost in the sensation of being inside you, his mind a haze of lust and love, your loud moans like a sweet song to his ears.

he lower your leg to lean foward and kiss you one more time, his hips slamming against your cervix. “you are m-mine,” he said against your lips. “s-say it,” he bury his face on your neck again, biting the area with some force to leave a mark, but not enough to hurt you.

you weren’t sure if you would be able to say any kind of words at this moment, but you tried anyways. “i-i’m—ah, i’m yours, h-hyuck, all y-yours,” your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his hips, wanting to keep him moving as if he was even thinking about stop. “l-lov… i love you, h-hyuck,” you manage to say between your moans.

he loves hearing you say it, loves the way it feels to be wanted by you. As he thrusts deeper, harder, he mutters, "i love you too, babe,” he feels your muscles tighten around him, and he knows you're close again. he pulls back to look at you, watching the pleasure contort your face. it's the sexiest thing he's ever seen. he grins, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. "come for me again,” he coos. “let me see you fall apart.”

you body tenses around him as you reache your climax, your muscles clenching and releasing in a way that sends shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being. he can feel your heart racing against his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you ride out the intense wave of ecstasy. your nails dig into his skin, leaving little half-moons on his shoulders, but he doesn't care—the pain only heightens his own pleasure. he groans into your mouth, his hips moving faster and harder as he chases his own release. the sight of you, lost in the throes of passion, is almost too much to handle.

as hyuck reaches his peak, he can't hold back anymore and releases himself inside you with a deep, guttural moan, filling you up. it's like a dam breaking, the release so powerful that he sees stars behind his closed lids. the feeling is indescribable, a rush of pleasure so intense it's almost painful. he can feel you trembling beneath him, your body still convulsing with aftershocks of your own orgasm. you both lay there for a moment, panting and sweaty, bodies entwined as you come down from the high. he pulls out slowly, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he looks down at you.

you were both panting, just staring at each other with a wide smile. you kept in silence, hyuck slowly wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you snuggle into him, your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head before ask, “how about we take another day off tomorrow?”

#haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct dream #nct x reader #nct smut

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kaciebello · 3 months

Text

One egg as the other

Masterlist Chris Rodriguez x Hades! reader (platonic) Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, mentioned) Summary: Chris visits one of his favorite campers, purely just to annoy them. Warning: Insults( nothing mean, just banter), no use of y/n, fem, sibling relationship written by an only child author note: Since someone said I should write more of them, hope I did you justice my guy. English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,1k

Chris busts the door open, not even bothering to knock. Normally he would have, but he had seen Luke just seconds ago helping some kids with their swords. He knew there was no danger in the room. Expect the Hades girl, but she posed no real danger to him.

“WAKE UP!” He yelled and walked in like he owned the place. The girl, who was standing near her table, turned around and looked at him confused.

“It's noon, we've seen each other at breakfast.” She said, turning her whole body to him and leaning on the table. He takes long steps toward her. His remark is dead when he sees what is lying on the table. There, under a heating lamp, were half a dozen eggs.

“Aw did you lay all of those? I'm so proud of you.” He says and pats the girl on her shoulder. Making sure she knows she did a good job. She shrugs his hand off

“Choke.”

“I rather not.” He says leaning closer to the eggs. He sees some markings on them. Turning to her, with no words he just pointed to the eggs. She sighs and gets up, walking to her bed to look for something in her bag.

“Goose eggs, some aphrodite kids gave them to me as a thank you for giving them scar cream.” She says, setting the bag aside and walking to the door. Crish gave one last glance at the eggs before following her.

He walked downstairs and into the medic room where she was now making sure the bed was tidy. Fluffing up the pillows and straightening the blanket.

“So what's on the agenda today?” He asks and sneaks behind her. Narrowly avoiding her as she walked away to grab the clipboard.

“ I am supposed to find what medicine we're running low on and report to Chiron, you are supposed to be with Luke, and if I'm not mistaken you're not at archery practice.” She says turning to him, only to see the way lying on the bed she just made. She gave him a death stare and he just gave her a wide grin.

“I will cheat physics and slam you through the wall if you don't shut up.” She said. His smile did not drop as he sat on the bed.

“How do you know my schedule? Stalker much?” He says and slicks his hair back.

“I know Luke's schedule, considering you follow his like a lost puppy, i have a pretty good idea of yours.” Crash just huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He would say some remark. He should say some remark, but sadly nothing was coming to his mind.

“I didn't know you and Luke were like that.” He says at the end. The girl just gives him a pointer look. Just as he was about to defend himself, it was like the Bloody Mary or Beetlejuice came to life themselves.

In walks Luke, his stride unbroken, with a smile that could be seen from miles away. Seems like they have said his name too many times.

Cris goes unnoticed by him, as his only goal is the Hades girl. When he reaches her, he grabs her by the shoulders, tips her back, and delivers the nastiest kiss Cris has ever seen. When he flips them back up again, Luke his face to him. He mumbles something to the girl. Before she could tell him they were not alone, Chris acts.

“EEEEEEWWWW.” Luke's eyes snap to him and he goes instantly red. Chris makes gagging sounds, almost making it sound like he is physically sick. Luke looks so startled he just smiles at the girl before bolting out.

“Why do you always do this stuff around me!” Chris cries out. She just turns to him with a death glare again.

“Why are you always around when we do this stuff?”

“Nah because, ya down bad!”

“You're down bad for Clarrise!” She argues back. Chris gives her an offended look.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-uh!”

Their banter went back and forth. At some point, Percy showed up at the house but quickly turned around at the door when he heard them.

“What do you even want here?” She asked, he had to be here for something. She very much believed that Luke would let him slack off of practice.

“Oh yeah! I was kinda stabbed.” He says, turning his arm to the girl. It was obvious that his stab wound was just a scratch that wasn't even bleeding. Scab already formed on in. Nothing that the Apollo kids would even look at. She tugged his arm hard to her. Inspecting the wound.

She clicks her tongue and lets it go. Before turning around and going to her box of band-aids. fishing out one with Hello Kitty she makes her way back to him and places it on the scratch.

“Hey, I wanted the one with Spiderman.” He says looking at the bright pink bandaid on his arm. Anyone could see it. He wanted nobody to see it. She made sure that everybody saw it.

“Get out.” She says to him. He didn't even argue, his eyes glued to the bainaid. When he tried to take it off, it was like it was glued to his skin.

“What have you done?” He asked her, still trying to scřratch it off. She just smiled and pointed to the door.

“Nothing princess, now get out.” She was now pushing him out. He made sure to dig his heel into the ground to make it harder for her. When he got to the door he stopped. He stepped over the threshold and she sighed out of relive. She celebrated her victory too early tho.

“Don't worry, Clarisse will dig it.” Just like that, Chris jumped back and grabbed the girl in a headlock. She yelped and tried to wiggle herself out. He made sure to mess up her hair into a bird's nest. When he was done he let her go. She stairgtens and gasps for air. He glances at her.

“Look, the eggs have somewhere to sleep now.” With that, he sprints away. The furthest he can get from the girl that can cause sudden death just by thinking about it. He made sure to yell that one egg should be named after him. He was sure if she had one right now, it would end somewhere near his head, if not hitting it spot on.

#percy jackson #chris rodriguez #chris rodriguez x reader #chris rodriguez x you #chris rodriguez x fem!reader #chris rodriguez imagine #chris rodriguez fluff #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #pjo #fem reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians

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pregnant-piggy · 11 months

Note

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

#harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter #harry imagine #harry x reader

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riswippiesx · 4 months

Note

Toji with a reader who basically is Megumi friend. Like Megumi realized how much you two like each other so started to set stuff up for you two to get together. Reader is like a mother to Megumi (since I hc that his bio mom died when he was 2 or 3) and Toji is just loving reader for helping with Megumi. Headcanons please

Love & Care | Toji Fushiguro X Fem! Reader

Theme: Fluff

TW: a lil bit of cursing, ooc toji(????) maybe..as I didn't want to make him a brat here, age gap, reader is in her early 20s and Toji is in his 40s, not proof read[because I'm lazy asf]

Summary: headcanons for Toji X reader where reader is a friend of Megumi with motherly vibes.

Note: I am not really a Toji stan..okay?😭 I NEVER read any Toji fic in my life. Never. This was all so new for me. I tried to stick to the character as much as I could in the given scenario. Please don't mind :(💗

•You missed a very important class at your university and you needed a notes, immediately. Thus you ended up visiting your friend, Megumi, at his place, for the notes. Thus you met his dad, Toji Fushiguro. And what a sight! What a man! You couldn't look away.

•Toji just came back and you were leaving after taking your notes and BANG! You bumped into a person who felt like rock because of his well physic. You looked up, only to find your friends dad. You saw him on Megumi's phone but never in real life. "Kid, watch where you are going!", Toji groaned and looked down at you "also who are you?". "I-", you started to utter but Megumi finished it for you "My friend, dad, her name is Y/n." Toji did a little hum and gave you place to leave. You gave a nod with a little smile and left.

•You came back home, freshened up and decided to go through the notes but your mind refused to focus. All you could think how handsome that older man was. Your breath hitched and a weird feeling strated to grow in you.

•And all that grew harder with each passing day. You longed to see that man in person, once again. And your wish came true when your friend fell sick and took a few days off. You, being the responsible one, decided to help him with the notes.

•You went to your friends house. You finally met his dad again. You greeted him formally and he greeted you back. Your heart danced in joy. Then you went to Megumi's room and saw him laying down on his bed with an ice bag on top of his forehead. He looked really sick. You kept the notes on his desk and walked near him and sat on the chair beside the bed.

•Megumi was coughing and breathing heavily. The high fever was making him feel dizzy but he recognised you.

"You shouldn't... Have come..you will catch cold too..idiot..", he breathed out.

"Shh, don't talk much. Relax."

"Tsk"

Your friend was like that, refused to take help but you always loved to help him, you loved taking care of him.

You took the ice bag off as the ice was melted already. You saw a bowl of water and a piece of cloth in it on the bed side table. You kept the ice bag on the and damped the cloth and rinsed out the excess water. Then you put it on his forehead and ran your hand through his hairs, soothing him down. And it actually relaxed him. Your offered him some water when he coughed a lot. You were busy in taking care of your friend when Toji came and stood by the door, which you didn't notice. He observed how you took care of his son.

"You take care of him like a mother." His sudden voice made you startled and you looked back to find him standing there. He had a smile on his face and you felt like you could die then happily. "Oh..yeah..haha", an awkward and nervous laugh came out of your throat with a faint tint of red on your cheeks.

•And that whole thing made you and Toji interact more. Slowly a bond was forming between you two. Both of your scolded Megumi when he was going extra harsh on himself for studies and didn't take care of him. Megumi often rolled eyes at the strict scolding but he could feel something in the air. He was smart. He was quick to catch the real scenario when he found you chatting with your dad and laughing. He also noticed how conscious you got around his dad or by the mention of his name. The faint blush, little chuckles, small glances— he noticed it all.

•You were in love with his dad —Megumi easily understood that. If it was anyone else other than you, maybe he would be against it but you were different. You were calm and collected, a soft person, who didn't date many guys. Megumi trusted you, he knew you. Your happiness was also important to him. So he accepted it in his mind. He also noticed how his dad was finally interacting with a woman after his mom died. Megumi's life's biggest tragedy was that he lost his mother when he was barely two years old. He never felt the motherly care while growing up until he met you. His dad supported him a lot but you, you took care of his mood, well being and feelings. Though you were his friend but he found the comfort of a mother in your embrace. So he was all over pleased and wanted your relation to form properly with his dad.

•For you, it felt so wrong yet so right. You didn't plan to fall for your friends dad but some matters would always stay out of human control. So you had finally accepted it but didn't want to make a move from your side. On the other hand, Toji liked spending time with you. You were calm but not boring. He liked that. Also, he adored how you mothered his son. It made him chuckle with happiness. But the muted feelings in his heart was forcibly put down by himself. He refused to acknowledge any such weird feelings about his son's friend. So he just stayed in his limit as well. Megumi was honestly tired of seeing the lack of confronting ability. He wanted any of you two make a move. The way you both appreciated each other while talking with Megumi, he was surely confused why weren't you two making any move yet.

•The frustration was major. Megumi couldn't take it anymore decided to make move on you two's behalf. One day he called you to come over to his place while he went to Itadori's place, who was a mutual friend of you and Megumi. You agreed without knowing and came over to his place with some cookies you made, only to find his dad alone. You were confused, so was Toji. Both of you tried to contact megumi but he didn't pick up any call. You wanted to leave but Toji stopped you.

"You can stay untill he comes back, you know. I got no issues", he said with a chuckle. You hesitated but accepted soon. You sat with Toji and ate a few of the cookies you made.

"You made this?"

"Yeah.."

"Tastes good"

"Thank you, Fushiguro san"

"Hey you know, that fushiguro and all...so fucking formal. Call me Toji"

"But you're way older than me"

"Do I look like I care?", he laughed.

"Okay..Toji ...san?"

"Sounds better", both of you chuckled and chatted. It wad getting late but Megumi wasn't home till then. Toji suggested you to go back and he would talk to his son for his carelessness. You nodded and headed back. Though you didn't meet your friend that day, you felt somewhat happy. Spending all those time with Toji made you giggle in your mind.

•Such shits continued, as Megumi kept on setting you two up. Someday he sent his dad at your place to give you some important assignment files, giving the excuse of being "busy", someday he asked for your help to come over and stay a few hours at his place as he needed to go to the library, stating that his dad wasn't home. You agreed again and went to his place. He left, you were alone, using your phone, when the door knob moved. You thought he came back but it was Toji. Both of you were surprised at first but that day ended with chats and laughs as well. But Megumi heard a few words from his dad but his weird behavior later, and from you as well. But he didn't mind.

• Things continued. You two might confronted Megumi but all those 'accidental meet ups' were too good for both of you. So you two didn't care much and the bond grew stronger and you two came closer than before. Megumi was happy by the progress so far.

•One day, you hanged out with Megumi and his dad, as you were free that day(also his dad was there). Megumi excused himself for using the washroom near the park and you two waited for him. Then Megumi messaged you that he had a parcel coming by that day, so he had to go back to recive it but he would join you two soon after. You sighed and told Toji about that.

"My son is getting sneaky", he sighed and you two sat on the bench.

"Sure he is.", you chuckled and Toji looked at you.

"I would be concerned about it if he didn't have a friend like you. You take care of him like a mother.", he gave you a sounded laugh, making you blush a little. "Thanks a lot for being such a great friend to my son. I trust you enough that I know he won't do anything wrong as long as you stay with him.", he smiled.

"My pleasure. He is a good guy. He just..doesn't know how to talk about his needs. I somehow manage to read his face. And thus I try my best to take care of him. After all, he is my most important friend."

"You like my son?"

"As a friend, yes"

"Of course", he laughed "do you like his dad?"

His one question made you nervous. Did he find out? No way. You didn't know what to reply. Panic was clear on your face. Toji quickly fixed his words.

"I mean..do you think I am a good dad? Am I good enough?" You sighed and smiled in relaxation.

"Of course. You're doing great as a dad. Maybe you don't know but he once said that he feels grateful to have you around. He also acknowledge your hard work as a single father. You're more than just good."

"Really? Wow", he smiled to himself, feeling good about himself after so many days, or years.

•Things didn't actually go to that level where you could admit your feelings for Toji but you loved him, loved being around him. Megumi's set ups made you two more than just friends. Both of you knew that very well but didn't have the courage to tell each other.

•Megumi stopped setting you two up after a few months as he was tired. Also he wanted you two long for each other.

After a few weeks, when you were longing for Toji, trying hard to find a reason to meet up, you asked Megumi if you two should hang out and proposed to bring his dad too, Megumi decided to confront you.

"Y/n"

"Yes?"

"Do you like my dad?"

Your lips were sealed, not a single sound came out of your throat. How the hell did Megumi find out and how was he so exact? Was your facial expressions were so certain and prominent? Yoy had to lie. You coughed and gave him a dry laugh.

"Are you crazy Gumi? That's your dad..how can i-"

"Stop lying. You think I am a kid?"

"No but-"

"Why do you think all those accidental meet ups happen so frequently? Because I tried to set you two up"

"Wha-"

"But again you two couldn't even say a word about your feelings. If you like each other why don't you confess?"

"I don't like your da-"

"You do."

You stayed quiet, feeling exposed. Then you gradually asked:

"Are you..mad at me for falling for ...your dad? I'm so sorry please.."

"Are you really that dumb Y/n? I told you I set you two up. You think I would do all that if I was mad?"

"..."

"You are going to confess. I'll go out today with my dad. We will hang out, i'll bring my dad. I'll excuse myself. You will talk your heart out today!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Why not?"

"Your dad won't like me back. The hell are you saying?!"

"He does. I am telling you."

"Wait really?"

"Confess and see for yourself."

"But-"

"No buts!"

"Ugh-"

"You will confess or i'll set him up with another woman"

"What the hell bro?"

"I said what I said"

"Goddamn! Fine!"

"Good"

•You came back home. Your face was flushed. You were feeling nervous and excited at the same time. Megumi accepted you, even said his dad liked you back. You definitely needed to make a move the. Moreover, the way your buddy threatened you. You had to. You would definitely confess to Toji that evening! Yes! You could do it!!

Let's hope for the best, then :D

Part two with better details?👀

Thank you for reading. A big thanks to @//aliorailrow for requesting this<3 I hope it was okay as per your request?! Tried my best..hehe

Requests are open <3

♡Reblogs and comments are always appreciated♡

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shipperssafehaven · 11 months

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Earth 42 Miles Morales x plus size black reader hcs

As well intentioned as they were, your family’s compliments always tended to be on the backhanded side

Like whenever your thin cousins were getting attention from boys you had interest in, you had some relative whispering in your ear, “Looks ain’t everything, you’ll find you a nice boy.”

Or when you wore crop tops or shorts, they’d eye you like CRAZY and question you relentlessly:

“You wearing that?” “Yep.” “You sure you don’t want a jacket with that or something?”

It never got to you per se, just made you feel like you should be insecure even though you weren’t. You didn’t really mind your looks or your body for that matter, but every time they pointed out that you had a beautiful personality or that your shape was “unique”, a small part of you thought maybe you weren’t… physically attractive.

Enter Miles Morales

You met him at a party of all places

Originally, you came with some friends who practically forced your attendance but they all ended up splitting up after some guys came up to you in an attempt to get to them.

And you played along despite your irritation because you knew damn well tagging along was a bad idea and you were already prepared to sneak out the door when they were distracted

So here’s how it played out: your head was hung as you had a foot out the door, fully ready to leave. Only you stopped because you were hit with a sudden prickle of awareness that someone was staring... and not regular staring either. It was like someone was burning a damn hole in your head

You did a complete 180 and turned back around to the party and through a bunch of dancing teenagers, you saw him

He was leaning against a wall, head tilted and all. He whispered something to his homeboy but still managed to keep his gaze locked solely on you

And you couldn’t lie... it had your stomach in knots

Like you were down bad from A LOOK

But in all fairness, no one had ever looked at you like that before and what made it crazier was that he WASN’T looking away ?? And now in return, you found yourself not being able to either ??

Eventually though, after five seconds or five minutes (you weren’t sure), your friend saw you near the door and called out to you causing you to finally advert your eyes else where

“You leaving already?” “Yeah.” “You sure?” “What do you mean--”

She was grinning, gesturing back to the boy’s direction and you were baffled to see him quite literally pushing people outta the way to get to you before you could leave

It would’ve taken a person at least 3 minutes to get through that crowd but he did it in a total of 10 seconds, and that’s when you knew everything was about to change

And the rest was history

From the moment he met you, Miles was mesmerized by you. Every curve. Every smile. Every laugh. Every word you spoke. It took one night for him to know you were it

You had this man listening to Jodeci on the walk home, LIKE HE FELL IN LOVE instantly

After talking to you for only an hour, he was asking to take you out

“Let me take you out on a real date, Ma. Without all the noise and people.” “Boy, I’ve known you for an hour. You don’t think it’s too soon?” “Einstein did say time was relative y’know.” “Miles... I don’t know.” “Look, mami, I’m askin’ you for one date. That’s it. You like me, we’ll see where it goes. You don’t, just tell me to kick rocks and I’ll fall back.”

And after one date, he knew you weren’t going anywhere so he introduced you to his mom

“Oh, Miles, she’s beautiful.” “Ain’t she.”

And after introducing you to Mama Morales (who loved you deep), he asked you to be his girl despite being nervous cause he’s never been serious about anyone before

“I’m not tryna scare you or rush you, mami. I just know what I want and that’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You folded immediately and kissed that boy let’s be honest. You stood no chance when he was talking like that c’mon now. In his mind, you were a sure thing, and it left you stunned to know that

Being with Miles was a lot different than you expected. Initially, you thought he appeared cold and closed off. He seemed like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you figured maybe that’d follow into your relationship

But nah

Miles Morales in any universe was soft with his girl

Every time he saw you, he’d greet you by taking your face into his hands and gently kissing your forehead. And I mean EVERY TIME

His arm thrown over your shoulder on every walk home? Yep. Holding your hand under the table the first time he met your family? Of course. His fingers pulling you close by your belt loops just to place a delicate peck to your cheek? Absolutely. Him practically racing your ass to the door so he can hold it open for you? Yeah.

Like that boy would die for you without hesitation

He was surprisingly open too

He would lay his head in your lap and tell you stories about his dad for hours and it’d usually end with you wrapping your arms around him after wiping a stray tear or two

“Sometimes I get scared that he wouldn’t like who I turned out to be.” “Don’t let that live in your head, baby. If anything you told me about that man was true then there’s nothing in this world you could do to make him stop loving your crazy ass.” “I hope so, Ma. I really do.” “Just take my word for it.” “He would’ve loved you, you know.”

Your connection only got stronger by each passing day

Now... back to your family. They were SHOCKED when they met Miles. Those backhanded compliments went from you being able to brush them off to fully getting under your skin

And the reason it stung so damn bad was because they meant well

Your aunt nearly tripped on her own two feet when that boy came to the family cookout. She was immediately pulling you to the side to ask how you managed to pull it off

Then you had your mama coming to your defense with a: “My baby’s just got a great personality. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”

And she was right but... damn. It felt like they didn’t think it was possible for someone like Miles (or anyone, really) to think you were cute. It hurt the little girl inside you that was buried with insecurities

Growing up as a bigger girl, people never showed interest in you like that because you didn’t fit the “norm”

Sure, there were a few boys who eyed you, but they never made it a point to step up to you and ask you out. They were always too embarrassed or cowardly

Then Miles came along and erased all that

Whenever you tried to deny food, he’d kiss his teeth and give it to you anyway

“One thing you not gonna do is starve my girl.”

Or when you’d be looking in the mirror, muttering something under your breath about your figure, he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist letting his head rest on your shoulder

“Watch how you talk ‘bout my woman, mami.”

Or when you subconsciously laid your arms over your stomach so they were covering it, he’d grab your hand without saying a word

With Miles, you had to unlearn all the habits you picked up and it was a challenge at first but you were better for it. He loved you so much that it made you wonder why you didn’t always love yourself

So when your family was in your damn ear, acting all surprised you cuffed him, you were folding back into your old self a lil bit

You managed to ignore them

... until you were sitting at the dinner table with Miles by your side

Your aunt was firing question after question at him, and he patiently answered each one

Then she pulled out the one that had the room falling silent and your heart aching

“Well, how’d she get your attention? I always pictured [name] with a bigger boy- you know, someone like her... who could... keep up with her and... hold her.”

The hand that was holding yours under that table got tight real quick lmao

You could tell he was biting the fuck out of his tongue and his jaw was clenched for a split second. You were half scared he was about to pick your ass up outta your chair to prove her wrong

“The only person I picture her with is me so nah, I don’t know. As for how she got my attention? She had it from the moment I saw her. What you should be askin’ is how I got hers. God knows I ain’t deserving of it.”

You had the biggest lump in your throat and your eyes were watering, and all you could do was send him a wavering smile

Your feelings for him ran deep but it was in that moment that you knew you loved him

At that point in the relationship, you were happier than ever. But those comments made by the people you love most created a doubt that wouldn’t let up

There was this lingering thought in the back of your head that Miles wasn’t attracted to you

You were sitting on his bed one day while he was sitting at his desk drawing something in that book of his

When you finally couldn’t handle the loudness of your thoughts anymore, you straight up asked him to talk you down

Immediately, he was sitting in front of you taking your hands into his. When he asked you what was wrong, you simply frowned

“Do you find me attractive?”

You might as well have slapped that boy. He was stunned. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you like you lost your damn mind

“You being serious, Ma?” “Extremely.” “Why you even askin’ me that?” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Cause it’s a stupid question. You know you the most beautiful woman to me.”

You looked down at that and shook your head, feeling bad that outside opinions were starting to make you pick arguments

Then you had him picking up your chin, forcing you to look at him

One thing about Miles was he wasn’t going to let you just argue- you were going to properly communicate your feelings one way or the other

“What would make you think otherwise, huh?” “Look, it took me a long time to like myself. I ain’t nearly as insecure as I was, but sometimes with my family- they just- they just make me feel like I should be, you know?” “I see.” “And that’s got nothing to do with you, baby. I swear up and down that I feel secure with you. I just know them, and I know they think you’re with me solely cause of my heart.”

Miles brought both your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each

“You’ve got the most beautiful soul I know, but I ain’t know all that until I talked to you.”

He got up abruptly and grabbed that book he was drawing in off his desk and then turned back to you. Without a word, he handed it to you.

You were hesitant to look inside and waited for his nod of approval and once you got it, all you were greeted with when you opened the book was yourself

Flipping through the pages you saw pages dedicated to your curves alone. You saw every twinkle in your eyes, every smile, every mark on your body, and it amazed you that he viewed you like this.

Choked up, you barely got out, "You drew these?" "I drew you so damn much that I had to get you your own book. Cause like I said, mami, you the most beautiful woman to me."

He crouched down in front of you, returning the smile you so effortlessly wore now. You leaned forward until your forehead was resting on his and let him go on

"Don't get me wrong,” Miles started, placing his hand over your heart, “this is what I love best- it’s my favorite thing. But you wanna know what made me push all them people outta the way to get to you that night? That was pure attraction.”

All in all, with Miles, you felt more beautiful than ever. And those days when you would question it, he was always there to put to bed all your doubts and insecurities. That boy loved you more than life itself

#earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x plus size reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman #miles g morales #e!42 miles morales

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koishiro · 9 months

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# - 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

masterlist | genshin masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Diluc

Okay I’m sorry but he’ll flat out ignore you at first,

Or at least he tries to considering he can’t stop thinking about you which will make him confused for a while on why his heart “aches” when you’re around. He doesn’t realise it but when you’re around or generally anywhere near him, he’ll subtly scuffle closer towards you and I can imagine Diluc trying his best to be in your line of sight as much as he can because that’s his way of infiltrating your mind. Every time you visit Angel’s Share don’t expect to pay for anything, it’s conveniently on the house. I can imagine he’d also want a form of validation from you (and only you) after he gives his opinion in a discussion, it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Fancy seeing you here Y/n, the usual? What are you doing? There’s no need to spend your mora on such wasteful things”

Zhongli

…I hope you like tea,

Because you better expect to be invited to the funeral parlor “for tea” at least 3 days a week. If you’re ever walking through Liue and compliment something at a passing stall, he’ll buy it for you without a second thought because let’s be real (and these are his words exactly): - “mora has no value if it’s not spent on something worthwhile” …this man - he doesn’t realise how much of a flirt he is and is always confused if he catches your red face. He’ll also subtly court you without making it too obvious, like he’d appear at your place of work quite often with the excuse;

“the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is running quite slow today, I wondered if you’d like to take a stroll around the town with me, possibly have a look at the stalls”

Kaeya

This flirtatious bastard,

He’ll always think of ways to make you malfunction. You’re a regular at Angel’s Share as well?: “Ah so this is where all the pretty ladies are kept hm?”, followed by a drink he bought you. Any time he sees you walking though the streets of Mondstadt he’ll jog up to you and say: “Going somewhere m’lady? I could escort you if you’d like, maybe you’d care for a drink at the tavern?”. I can imagine Klee giggling to herself when she sees you as if she knows something you don’t…

“Sorry miss Y/n, Klee was told she can’t say anything, Kaeya made Klee promise - oh, you won’t tell Kaeya will you miss Y/n?”

Al haitham

This withdrawn boy…

He’d quite literally just stare at you from across the room until someone (Kaveh) nudges his shoulder, telling him he’ll scare you off if he continues. If you’re already aquatinted with each other he’ll most likely try and impress you by giving you book recommendations or talk about his findings at the Akademiya while you zone out and stare at his face for the next few hours. If you’re not aquatinted, he’ll saddle up to you and still give you recommendations:

“If I could just interject, herbal tea would be best whilst chamomile shall just make you drowsy, if you’d like I could show you how to make your own”

Childe

Ah yes, the cocky ginger,

I imagine he’d act like Kaeya, if he saw you strolling through Liue, Childe would stride up to you and ask if he could escort you to where you need to be with the excuse; “you can never be too careful” and this would become a habit to the point of meeting you once your shift ends to walk you back home. He’d also 100% spend his money on you no doubt, like Zhongli his excuse would be

“what’s the point of mora if I can’t spend it on a pretty girl hm?”

Itto

I hope you’re a dog person,

Because this is at your beck and call. One of the ways he shows his interest towards you is gift giving; you need a certain herb? Wait here while he goes and hunts it down for you, or maybe you need some meet? Don’t worry, he’ll quickly chase down a boar for you. And if you thank him a big smile when he delivers them? His tail could cause a tornado with how powerful his tail is wagging. Another way he shows his interest is physical affection; you’re sitting down reading a book? He’s there with his head on your shoulder, you’re both walking through town? He’s got a firm grasp on either your hand or your arm,

“what? I can’t let you wander off and get yourself lost, what would I do then? Who would hive me head pats?”

Kaveh

You wouldn’t even know he has a crush on you,

Instead thinking he’s just this friendly with everyone. Being an architect, no less from Sumeru, he would show and explain his ideas to you and ask for advice on what you think about them, sometimes he’ll deliver miniature structures to you that he made, for example: he once made you a wooden mobile (like a baby cot mobile) to hang wherever you please that plays music because he knew you had trouble sleeping or another time, he made you a glass wind-chime that would reflect the sun and cause rainbow rays to spread across your porch because you spend so much time in your garden. He’ll either make these as a thank you, a just cause, or he’ll make up a white lie and say it’s an experiment he’d like you to test run, always delivered with an excuse he made beforehand:

“Ah Y/n, glad I ran into you! I noticed the other day that you were struggling to keep on top of watering all of your plants so I made an automatic watering system! If it all goes well, I might start a batch of them”

—

－𝘬𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

#diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #zhongli #genshin impact kaeya #tighnari #kazuha #al haitham #childe #scaramouche #genshin itto #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff

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