#when he couldn't even work a single day in his own store without fucking up because he doesnt even know how to use the register
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Word of advice: never become a manager
#I fucking hate this job I do not get paid enough to deal with an owner who treats anyone who isnt a cis man as inferior#when he couldn't even work a single day in his own store without fucking up because he doesnt even know how to use the register#and all those men that you pay more? all those men that you discuss wages with in the interview when women don't get that?#yeah they all leave or fuck things up so badly that they get fired for horrendous acts#but those women and transmen that you employ myself included have all been here for at minimum one to three years#and those men don't last 6 months#shocking that they come in#find out theyre getting paid a dollar less than your assistant manager and realize they don't have to do shit to get paid#they just have to exist#but your longest standing employees have to confront you about raises that they should have received months ago#anyways if I have to listen to him talk to me like I'm one of his children tomorrow I'm going to quit#and if I leave so will the other staff members at my location#good luck opening a new store when you don't even have staff for this one if you fuck up so bad tomorrow
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DAY FIVE: Power Cut
Once the lights flickered back to life, you yelled down the staircase to let him know whatever fuses or breakers or switches he'd messed around with had finally worked.
"Thank god!" He hollered up to you, and when he reappeared at the bottom of the stairs you could see him properly now for the first time all night. Even under the harsh yellow light of the single bulb that now dangled above his head, he was still the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.
Fuck.
For someone who was already in her early twenties, there were many mundane things you'd never done.
You had never broken a bone, for example, or even taken a sick day.
You had also never experienced a power cut.
So that night, alone in your house with your mom gone on a girl's spa retreat out of state, it's fair to say you freaked out a little when the house was suddenly plunged into darkness without warning.
It was mid-October and a little after 10pm, so it was pitch black out. It had been drizzling with rain on and off for the last few days, but that night it had gotten heavier - lashing off the window panes and running down them in streaks, flooding the outside sills and soaking the piles of wet leaves gathered there.
The long, bare branches of the trees out front swayed in the wind as it howled around the house, causing them to tap against the glass almost eerily. That sound, however, was mostly drowned out by the rolling of thunder that was echoing up and down the street, and every so often the sky would light up with forks of lightening.
It was on one particularly loud crack of thunder and blinding flash of lightening that everything went out.
The tv you'd been watching? Off.
The table lamp beside you? Out.
The porch light out front? A goner.
You'd never felt unnerved or scared to be alone in your own house before, but when you made your way across the living room and flipped the switch, the resounding lack of light suddenly put you on edge.
"Shit," You mumbled, one hand running through your hair nervously.
Although this had never happened before, your mom had made sure to run through with you what to do in this very scenario. She'd lugged you down to the basement many times, showed you were she stored the flashlights and batteries and blankets and emergency supplies in the case that Armegeddon broke while she was gone.
She'd also showed you where the breaker box was, and as you stood at the top of the basement stairs, you wished to God that you'd been listening to her then.
The rickety stairs that led down into basement seemed to somehow lead into a darkness even blacker than the one you were currently standing in, and no matter how hard you willed yourself, you just couldn't make your feet move forward.
"Fuck this," You finally gave in, turning and heading in the direction of the kitchen and snatching the phone from the wall.
You thumbed in his number almost on instinct, never stopping to consider calling anyone else.
"Please pick up, please pick up, c'mon..." You pleaded down the phone to the sound of the dialling tone. Just as you were about to give up and call him all the bastards under the sun, he picked up.
His voice was groggy, you could tell you had woken him, even when he lied through a yawn and promised he hadn't been asleep already.
"My power's out," You stated simply. "My mom's out of town. I didn't have anyone else to call."
"Gimme 15 minutes." And then the line was dead.
You stood over by the front window, the only place not in complete blackness thanks to the streetlights outside.
13 minutes later - not that you'd timed him, or anything - Steve's BMW rolled up outside and to a stop at the foot of your driveway.
He climbed out, jogging up towards your front porch, jacket pulled up over his head to shield him from the rain. You pulled the door open, let him tumble in and cursed when the sky lit up again, followed by another crack of thunder splitting through the muggy air.
Steve shook himself off like a wet dog in your hallway, and you flinched as the rain water splattered over you.
"Do you mind, Harrington?" You asked indignantly, brushing the droplets off your bare arms.
"Is that any way to speak to the man who just drove across town in a thunderstorm to rescue you?"
"Listen, this isn't your starring role in some shitty romcom, alright? I just need you to help me get the power back on."
"Huh." He said with bemused laugh, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Interesting."
"What's interesting about my power being out?"
"Nothing. Just interesting that you suddenly need me. You didn't seem to think you did back when you broke things off between us."
You scoffed, and suddenly he had a look on his face like he wanted to take that last sentence back.
"I knew this was a bad idea." You said, dropping your head back and rubbing at your temples. "You know what? You're right, my bad. Just go, this isn't your problem. I'll figure it out on my own-"
You made towards the door to open it, but he beat you to it, palm flat against the wood and holding it firmly shut.
Your eyes lifted to meet his properly for the first time since he'd arrived, and you felt all your resolve melt away and you silently wondered how you'd ever managed to let him go in the first place.
"Just show me where the breaker is." He spoke, and his voice was sincere now, no trace of the joking sarcasm that had laced it before. "Please. I wanna help."
You let your hand fall away from the door, and so did he, and you both pretended to ignore the fact that your fingers brushed in the process.
***
"Why've they always gotta be in the goddamn basement?" Steve complained, hands braced on either side of the doorframe leading down into the basement.
"Excellent question, Harrington. Why don't you raise it at the next Electricians Convention of America?" You suggested sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, arms crossed over your chest.
He pushed off the frame, taking a step back until you were both side by side before shouldering you gently, the brush of his arm against yours lighting an unwelcome yet familair warmth in your chest.
"You know I hate it when you call me that."
"It's what I've always called you."
"Yeah, before." He clarified, and then for good measure he added. "Y'never called me it when we were together."
This whole encounter was just confirming why you'd been avoiding him for the last few weeks. It was too fucking difficult to remember all the reasons you had ended things with him with he was looking at you like that and saying things like that.
So you stood up a little taller, sucked in a breath and willed yourself to be stronger.
"Yeah, well, you've answered your own question there, Harrington. We're not together anymore."
He let out a mocking laugh and spoke with a gentle shake of his head. "Guess you're right."
He stepped forward until he was in front of you and you heard him tell you to just stay there before he let out a breath.
"If there's spiders down here, I swear to God-"
You're pretty sure you weren't meant to hear that part, but his back was to you so you smiled anyway.
***
Once the lights flickered back to life, you yelled down the staircase to let him know whatever fuses or breakers or switches he'd messed around with had finally worked.
"Thank god!" He hollered up to you, and when he reappeared at the bottom of the stairs you could see him properly now for the first time all night. Even under the harsh yellow light of the single bulb that now dangled above his head, he was still the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.
Fuck.
You thanked him, sincerely and free of any sarcasm of teasing, since it was now after midnight and here he was standing in your hallway in the midst of a thunder storm.
"Don't worry about it. I know I gave you shit for it earlier, but you can call me any time."
You were silent.
"I want you to call me."
More silence, because what were you meant to say to that?
"If you need me, I mean. For anything."
When you couldn't bear to let me more time pass without speaking, you found your voice again.
"Look, I know this kinda confusing for me to say, and I'm not trying to mess with your head, I swear-"
"Whatever you're about to say-"
"Do you wanna stay?"
"I don't know if that's a good idea-"
"It's just, it's really wild out there, and I don't know if you should be driving, and I know we're not together, and I know that's down to me, but I'd just sleep much better knowing you didn't get in a car wreck doing me a favour-"
You were rambling now, and Steve knew you only rambled when you were nervous, so he decided to put you out of your misery.
"Alright, alright. I'll stay." He said, hands held up in mock surrunder, and you let out a breath, the smallest of smiles tugging at your lips.
"Guest room or couch?" He asked, unsure if you'd want him sleeping next door to you or if you'd prefer the distance of the livingroom.
"Guest room, obviously. You know you're too tall for the couch, it's awful for your back."
You blushed a little at the reference, many nights spent underneath him on that couch, making out as you both pretended to be even remotely interested in whatever movie was playing.
"Good point." He agreed, fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he followed you upstairs.
You reached your door first, hand stilling on the handle as you watched him carry on a couple of feet further to the next door.
He gave you one last smile and a "goodnight" as he pushed it open, and before you realised what you were doing, you were calling out to him.
"Steve," Your voice was small, almost as if you didn't want him to hear you. But he did, and he stopped with one foot over the threshhold and turned to look back you.
"What you said earlier... about me not needing you?"
He just nodded.
"That's not true. I did-, I do need you. Too much."
He didn't say anything, just dropped his eyes to glance at the ground and then all around, as if he couldn't make his eyes land on yours.
"That's the real reason we're not together."
He cleared his throat, eyes doing one more dart around the hallway before finally meeting yours.
"For now?" He said, and it was definitely a question.
"For now." You agreed, and it was definitely a promise.
#1986harrington’s mystery promptober 🎃#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fic#steve harrington
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Mingyu + Enchanted by Taylor Swift for the song fic game 🥹
Congratulations, OP 🥲
You've managed to send me into a Mingyu spiral for the first time in MONTHS (Vernon who!? Jokes jokes 😅)
Because I'm suffering, I'm gonna make you suffer too: An angsty childhood friends to lovers story, in which Mingyu is the boy next door. He is your best friend since grade school because he shared his cookie with you the second day of class. When your parents found out you befriended one another and lived next door, your friendship was encouraged and you become like those corny neighborhood kiddos who skip to and from school together 😊🤣
Your father owns a restaurant and eventually, when you're teenagers, he hires on Mingyu as an assistant cook in the kitchen because his family, which consists of his mother and grandmother, is in need of some extra cash as money is tight and rent is due!
When you both turn eighteen, Mingyu remains at home to take care of his family and continues working as an assistant cook, while you head off to university. You call/text almost every day, sharing your new adventures with him and him keeping you updated on yours and his family wellbeing at home.
However, as the first year passes by, you both can't help, but feel the ache of missing one another. Phone calls, silly text messages, and the occasional postcard doesn't seem enough. Unfortunately, you both are too hesitant to share this feeling of nostalgia with one another; not because you're afraid of ruining your friendship, but neither of you know how to explain it to one another. The both of you were never the type to speak your mind without finalizing your thoughts and feelings.
Mingyu finally gets some time off and visits you on campus in the spring and this is when your love starts blooming like a blooming flower! 😍🤣 It's one 3-day weekend (starting on Friday), but it changes both of your lives and how you view each other forever. Even though Mingyu doesn't attend your university, he follows you around to your classes and waits for you outside on the bench or the coffee shop across the street 😭 He attends a party with you - and ofc, there's the obligatory "omg is he your boyfriend?" question from all your peers. Unfortunately, Mingyu fucked up his hotel reservations, so you end up sneaking him into the girls' dorm late at night. Thankfully, you had a single room to yourself. You end up squeezed onto the old rickety twin bed - I have a DELUSIONAL scene already brewing for this . . . 😭😦😰
ANYWAYS, the weekend progresses and it's honestly not that exciting - just mundane things such as going to the convenience store to buy pads and some snacks, showing him around campus, but for some reason, it's so dang fun for the both of you and literally the whole student can tell y'all are IN LOVE.
Mingyu returns home and that feeling of missing him (and vice versa) grows. It felt worse than before he visited and you're both so oblivious and confused - until Mingyu's having a conversation with his grandma and she informs him, "you're in love with your best friend, my idiot grandson."
Without a second thought, Mingyu takes a train to your university and it also just so happens to be raining. Man races your dorm all wet just to confess - and hopefully, you feel the same.
Much to his dismay, however, when you open the door, there's another boy behind you: his name is Jun - a senior in your journalism class :')
JOKES JOKES JOKES to the last part omg - I couldn't LOL. There would be a happy ending, where you also confess your feelings. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug!
I'll write a different story for journalism classmate!Jun LMAO
Send me a song + SVT member and I'll give you a plot based on both!
#twogyuu:writing#twogyuu:ask games#mingyu scenarios#oh god this idea definitely is a candidate for some future writing#i love me a good slowburn#thank you for requesting this op!!
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A Flower A Day
Rouxls Kaard x Reader
(Fluff, Gender-Neutral Reader, Office AU, Y/n Used)
Someone keeps leaving a pink carnation on your desk everyday, and you have your suspicions on who it could be.
A single carnation would normally lay delicately on your keyboard, its petals a beautiful light pink, but not today. For about a month, someone has come in early enough to leave it for you. It shocked you when you first received it. You had looked around the office for clues for a while until your boss told you to get back to work. You didn’t do much about it at first except for taking it home and putting it in a vase. But after a few weeks, you decided you would properly investigate this matter more thoroughly. You were curious who kept doing this and why. Firstly, you looked up the meanings of it all; the meaning of a carnation, the meaning of the color, anything that could lead you to who’s been doing this.
After researching, you learned enough to guess that this could be a romantic gesture. A carnation is a flower of romance and symbolizes fascination and distinction. The color pink can symbolize romance and compassion, as well as shyness and timidness. Perhaps the person who left these flowers knew all this and wanted to express these meanings to you. It seems that they’re shy since they couldn't exchange these face to face. But what if these meanings meant nothing? Maybe they just knew you liked the color pink. Maybe they just picked a random flower from a store and just stuck with it.
But you doubt that it's that simple. Leaving a flower at someone's desk everyday seems pretty romantic, at least to you, and the gesture fits the meaning of the flower and its color. It’s too coincidental! And there’s one person you know who works in your office who would go through the effort of it all to do this. His name is Rouxls Kaard, he’s the secretary of your boss and he just so happens to work a few desks away from you. You two talk quite often, and you’d even consider him a friend at this point. He’d be the only one to do something this tedious and yet so, heartwarming.
I mean it just adds up! He often uses flowery words and sometimes flattery when talking with you. He also tends to delve into the deeper meaning of random things that most people wouldn’t care for or even know of. And knows you like these types of cute gestures. Like the time one of your co-workers left a motivating sticky note on your desk and you couldn’t stop gushing over it to him. Maybe he knows that you like him, and had been wanting to ask him out for a while but couldn’t. Now thinking back, maybe he picked the color pink because he knew you’re too shy to ask him; and not the other way around? That’d be quite embarrassing. It could be your own selfishness and wishful thinking, but it must be him. If it’s not, your plan is about to be a lot more disappointing.
You came in extra early today. You told your boss ahead of time that you wanted some time to work on emails. Gleefully he gave you a spare key and thanked you for wanting to put in some hard work, you assume he must not get this often. Although, there might have been a flaw in your plan. You came in about an hour before Rouxls does, which is an hour before you normally come in. Do you perhaps see what we’re getting at? You had to wake up two hours before you regularly wake up and you still have an hour till Rouxls shows up. Basically, it’s very five in the morning and you’re really fucking tired.
Was this a good idea? No, probably not. You should have come thirty minutes early instead of an hour. You don’t even have emails to write! You lied! You very much lied!!!! But you had no other excuse at the time. So now you’re sitting at your desk waiting for Rouxls without anything to do. Your computer screen shines brightly, lighting up the dim room around you. You only turned on some of the lights because it felt weird for them all to be on this early. Glancing at the time on your computer you realize only ten minutes have passed since you got here, and seven of those minutes were wasted when you started contemplating your choices. You sigh aloud and open your emails to look like you're doing something. Even though no one is here to see that… Maybe if you rest on your desk for a bit, time will pass by quicker. Honestly you feel as if it’s your only choice, so you scoot your keyboard closer to the monitor and lay gently on your arms.
Even though it felt like only a few minutes had passed, the creak of the door opening meant you fell asleep. Did you really? Just sleep? At your desk? For almost fifty minutes?? … yeah. The sound of footsteps sounds towards you, where you’re currently trying to look like you weren’t sleeping. “Y/n? What is thou doingst here so early, doesn’t thou comest at seventh?” You don’t even have to look to know it’s Rouxls speaking, his voice so unique it’s hard to mistake it. “Oh uhm, you know… emails…” Maybe if you were more awake, you’d be able to sound more convincing. “Ah, so thou was working onst emails with thoust eyes closed?” Shit. He saw you sleeping. Your face heats up as you struggle to explain yourself. “Uh well… I was but.. uh…” You have to come clean, “Okay well to tell the truth, I was waiting to find someone. They leave a pink carnation at my desk everyday, and I was hoping if I got here early enough I’d find out who they are. But waking up early kicked my ass and I fell asleep instead, heh.” You glance at Rouxls’ face, a suprised look plasters it. Either it’s him or he’s shocked at your dedication.
“Ah? That maketh sense…” A moment of silence envelopes you both and if silence could kill, you’d be on the floor dead. You take another glance at Rouxls, and notice he seems to be holding something behind his back. “What's that you're hiding behind your back?” You question, and he squeaks in surprise. He shuffles a little farther away from you, “Oh, it ti-tis nothingst! Eh-heh..” You give a questioning look and stand up from your chair and walk towards him, in response he shuffles away a little more. “You’re hiding something! What is it?” You try to look behind him, “What is it!” You both awkwardly walk around the office. You can't help but giggle as he struggles to hide whatever is in his hands. “Alright! I willeth showeth thou, since thou is so persistenth.” Halting your actions, you stand in front of him. Slowly he reveals the one thing you had hoped it’d be, a single pink carnation. Even though it’s what you were hoping for, you can’t help but let out a little gasp in surprise.
“I’m sorry if it had upseteth thou. I hadst just wanted to expresseth how I feel but was unsure how to, there art a few meanings behind it…” He hands you the flower and you can’t help but smile softly. “It’s quite alright. I understand the meaning of it actually.” His eyes widen in surprise, “You do?”. “Yes, after a few weeks I researched the meaning of a carnation and the meaning of its color because I had a weird feeling it was significant..” You can’t help but look away and ask, “If what I read is true, does that mean you like me?”
Looking at him again, you see his face flush a dark shade. It seems words can’t speak for him, but he nods his head. Nervously he looks at you, waiting for your response. “I feel the same.” Another pause of silence surrounds you, but this time it’s more comforting. A moment passes and Rouxls smiles, although a little nervously, and leans down closer to your face and says;
“May I kiss you?”
(Originally posted on AO3 1-8-23, 1,358 words.)
(So this is actually my least favorite of my works so far that I've posted. Its just a silly concept and I dislike it tbh. But I'm finally reposting it on here so enjoy ig.)
#deltarune#fluff#rouxls kaard#rouxls kaard x reader#rouxls my beloved#au#deltarune au#gender neutral reader#rouxls deltarune#office au#x reader#alternate universe#rouxls speech is overexaggerated#y/n usage#so silly#my sillies#ILYRouxls
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Eddie rubbing your feet after a long stressful day 🥺
bless your beautiful soul.... wanna be my official lover??
Today was unlike any other, in the sense that you wanted to rip the heads off of any living person who even hinted that you were doing something wrong. You'd just started your first ever shift at 'Family Video' with two of your closest friends; Steve and Robin. To say that you were sucking at anything you attempted to do was an understatement. You weren't dumb, nor were you the type to be clumsy, but you could barely even stack 4 VHS tapes on top of your arms before they were sent tumbling to the floor.
To make matters worse, Steve had decided that following you around the store and calling out your mistakes was going to help. Wrong. Every comment would catch you off guard, your body quickly moving to reposition something and cause things to topple over to the ground. You were beyond stressed out and couldn't wait for the day to be over.
When you ended your shift, you all but ran to your car, unlocking the doors to have a minor breakdown in the comfort of your own space, away from prying eyes. Ever since Starcourt 'burned' down, you'd been searching for work nearly everywhere, Steve and Robin finally answering your pleas and convincing 'Sticky Keith' to get you a starting position. You had drive, your friends would give you that, but you were an absolute mess today. They weren't sure Keith would even allow you back into the store.
You dragged your palms down your burning cheeks, eyelids pulling at the force. How in hell were you going to save up enough money to finally move from the dreaded town of Hawkins? Without dwelling too much on the realization, you shoved your key into the ignition and started on your journey to your boyfriend's house, intent on getting a hug and maybe a kiss or two.
"Hi sweetheart, how was your first day?" Eddie joked in a domestic tone from the front door of his uncle's trailer, leaning the top of his body into the chilly afternoon air with a pretty smile stretched across his lips. The smile immediately dropped, watching your defeated form slam the driverside door of your beater with a heater.
"Woah, Woah. Hey, talk to me." his hands found purchase on your shoulders, squeezing lightly as he pulled your form into his own. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, arms clinging tightly around his waist as you buried your face into his chest.
"My first day fucking sucked," you admitted, feeling a small weight lift from your chest, "I couldn't do a single thing right!" you pulled away from him at this, stomping past him through the front door and towards his couch. A long nap was screaming your name from the top of its lungs, hoping to catch your strained ear.
Eddie followed behind you, closing the door with his sock-clad heel. His footsteps were much quieter, padding directly behind you as you flung yourself down onto your stomach. His large hands grabbed at your lightly exposed calves, lifting them up high enough to slide beneath your legs. You flipped your body around, staring up at him with sad eyes before tossing your arm up to cover them.
"I'm sorry that you had a bad day, why don't you just relax now okay? I'm here." his soft words lulled you into a near sleep, your body struggling to stay awake. You could barely pay attention to the darkness coating the back of your eyelids as you felt your doting boyfriend begin to unlace your worn-down converse. He gently pulled the shoes from your aching feet, placing them gently on the floor next to the leg of the couch. His fingers softly traced the curves of your feet, pressing calming circles into the bridges.
"You doing okay?" he asked, very aware of your current 'okay-ness' as he visibly watched your form shrink as it let the stress flee. You welcomed his massage with a small smile on your lips, pulling one foot out of his grasp to lightly kick at his right peck.
"What does it look like Munson?" he chuckled, bringing that foot back into his palms, not before placing a kiss on your ankle. His heart began to soar, eyes watching your half-covered face like a hawk. You were ethereal to him, chest swelling with pure adoration for you and your entire being. Eddie Munson was so head over heels for you, that he often found himself in this exact position.
"Looks like I'm spending my late afternoon with the girl of my dreams," he spoke amorously, earning a soft groan at the soppy comment.
"You're a freak, Munson." you joked, knowing he would be okay with your tease.
"Only for you sweetheart," he paused, grinning down at the domestic position the two of you found yourselves in, "only for you."
GOD, was this decent? idk how i felt about this drabble lol... i've never written any kind of foot stuff (sexual or romantic).. I HATE when someone touches my feet so im not too experienced in the foot department (😭😭💀)
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#joeseph quinn#joe quinn#fluff#eddie munson fluff#st season 4#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson x reader
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Things hadn't been the same since Billy died.
Neil had skipped town, leaving you with Susan and Max. Not that you minded too much, they were a far better choice than your violent father any day. Sure, you'd been forced to move to the trailer park, but even that wasn't so bad. You still had your own room, albeit a smaller one. And it led you to meeting Eddie and joining Hellfire.
You and Max had really bonded over the loss of Billy. You both talked about what an asshole he was, but with slight smiles. After all, he was your asshole, your jerk twin brother. And something inside you ached without him.
Without Neil around, the trailer felt more like home than any place you'd ever lived. Susan and Max were lighter, more free with their words and actions, and so were you. You started to wear makeup, something Neil had forbidden, and dress more how you actually wanted to. Jeans with holes at the knees, band tees, and a leather jacket. Oh, and you'd chopped your hair to chin length the day he left. Did it yourself in the bathroom. And it worked well on you.
You had gotten a job at Family Video with Steve and Robin to help with bills, and the three of you had grown really close through everything. In fact, you had a weekly movie night and often stayed over at each other's houses. Truth be told though…you had it bad for Steve. You'd seen him beaten and bloody and you'd seen him be a hero. You'd been there for him, and he had done the same for you. Not that you didn't have that with Robin, but…it was just…different with Steve. Something else was in the air when you two got together. At least for you. You had no idea how he felt, and you were far too scared to screw up your friendship and broach the subject with him.
You missed Hopper as well of course, had cried for him more times than you could count. And you missed El and the Wheelers something fierce. But the gate was closed and you all felt somewhat safe and normal.
So all in all, things should have been relatively okay.
Except.
Except for the nightmares. Except for that damn ache in your chest.
You'd dream of the mall, of the Mind Flayer killing him right in front of you, every. single. night.
Susan had forced you to see a psychiatrist against your wishes; it was pointless, after all. Not like you could tell her what had really happened. But you went and made stuff up and she'd prescribed you Temazepam to help you sleep.
And it worked. Most nights, anyway. But one night, you just couldn't sleep. You'd already taken two pills and nothing. Finally, with a sigh, you grabbed the pill bottle off your night stand and looked in at its contents.
You thought about Billy, about how much you fucking missed him. Especially today: it was your birthday. Your first without him there to share it with you. You'd continue to get older, and Billy never would.
Hot tears sprang to your eyes. God, why was it him? Why didn't it take you too?
As you sat on the edge of your bed looking down at those pills, you felt something inside you shatter. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but picture him dead on the mall floor.
And so, without letting yourself second guess it, you dumped the pills into your mouth and washed them down with the bottle of vodka you'd stolen from the local liquor store. You'd been drinking off it all night, and you were fairly drunk at that point.
You laid back on your bed and let your tears flow freely. You'd see Billy soon.
Then, you thought of Steve. Beautiful Steve, your best friend, and the man you were now realizing you were definitely in love with. And you decided, in your drunken haze, that he definitely deserved to know.
You reached over and grabbed the phone off its hook, dialing his number slowly. You hoped his answering machine would pick up, but if not, you'd tell him anyway. It was your last chance.
"Hello?" came Steve's sleepy voice.
"Steve," you slurred.
"Y/N? It's like one in the morning. Are you drunk?"
You giggled a bit, before turning serious. "Listen, Steve, you gotta know something, okay? You gotta hear this, it's important."
"Okay," he replied, amusement in his tone. "What do I need to know that couldn't wait until daylight?"
You took a deep breath, feeling woozy. "Steve. Stevie. You're mine, you know? And…and I'm yours."
"Okay?" Steve said, unsure. "Look, I gotta get some more sleep, so if you could get through this before the sun rises."
You groaned in frustration. "'m trying but it's hard. I know I don't have much time and wanted to say it right."
"Okay okay, just tell me."
You took in another deep breath as the room started spinning. "I love you. Not as a friend. More. So much more. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you until it was too late."
There was silence for a moment, then:
"You…you love me…?" Steve asked breathlessly.
"Yes. Gotta go now, Stevie." Your eyes were getting heavy with sleep.
"Wait, hold on, can we talk about this, please?" he begged.
"Sorry, Stevie. Billy's waiting for me," you said into the receiver.
With that, you fell unconscious, Steve's voice in your ear asking you frantically what that meant.
You woke up to vomit coming out of your mouth and nose and landing in the bathtub. Your arms hung into the tub and someone was behind you holding you in place.
Once you finished, you collapsed back into the person, panting. The person turned you to face them, and it was Steve. Your perfect Steve. His eyes were red, tears flowed down his cheeks and he was almost sobbing.
You began to cry too, at what you had tried to do, at the fact that you had failed and you were still alone, still without your other half.
"What were you thinking, (Y/N)?" Steve demanded through his tears.
"I'm sorry," you choked out. "I just hate being without him. It feels wrong to be alive. I have this ache in my chest and it never goes away, Steve. I live with it every day and I'm just so tired."
Steve said nothing but crushed you to him, squeezing you tightly as sobs began to rip out of you. He rocked you back and forth as you both cried. It was almost cathartic.
When your cries finally subsided, Steve picked you up and carried you to your room, where he sat you on your bed so you were leaning against the headboard. He sat on the edge of your bed, turning to face you. You looked down at your hands, now feeling equal parts sober, exhausted, and nervous.
"Are you mad?" you asked softly.
Steve sighed and reached out to take your hand. "No, I'm not mad, (Y/N), I'm fucking terrified. You almost just died right in front of me, all right? I…I almost lost you. Fuck, I almost lost you." You watched him lift your hand to his cheek, like he needed to feel you to know you were still there, still alive. You met his eyes and saw the fear there, and god, you felt so guilty to have caused that.
"I know, Stevie, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry," you cried, feeling the tears come back.
"Hey," Steve whispered, cupping your face in his hands. "It's okay, you're okay. Thank god you called me."
"I didn't expect you to come save me like a big damn hero," you said with a laugh, sniffling a bit.
He laughed too, but then his face turned serious. You put your hands over his and gave him a questioning look.
"Don't do that again, okay? Please?" he pleaded.
You nodded, now sure that you wouldn't. "I won't, I promise."
He let out a relieved breath. "Good. Good. I'm gonna go clean your bathtub real quick, okay? Just wait here."
Steve ran to the bathroom and you heard the shower turn on. After a few moments, he returned to your room and rejoined you on the bed.
Steve sighed and took your hand in his once more, rubbing light circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.
"Did you mean it?" he asked quietly.
You looked down at your hands. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I do. I…I love you, Steve."
He huffed a laugh and you looked up at him, confused.
"Sorry, I just…I've been wanting to tell you the same thing since the mall. I know it sounds strange, but after…when I was holding you and you were crying on my shoulder? That was when I realized that I love you."
You half laughed, half sobbed at that.
Steve took your hand in both of his. "In that moment, I would've done anything to take that pain away. It killed me to know what you were going through and that there was nothing I could do to really help."
"But you did help," you choked out. "You've helped so much these past few months, Steve. Spending time with you and Robin probably saved my life. You especially."
Steve smiled at that. "Yeah?"
You smiled back through your tears. "Yeah. And tonight you literally saved my life. And I'll never forget that." You frowned as a thought hit you. "Oh, Steve? Please don't tell the others about this. I promise that I will. I think it's important I tell them." You sniffled, then laughed. "You know, we should start an Upside Down support group."
Steve laughed too. "We really should. God knows we've all got our share of trauma from living in this town. Now, I think I should grab you some water and you should lay down and get some rest."
You signed. "Yeah, ummm…that's probably not gonna happen."
He quirked his head at you adorably. "Why's that?"
"Well, the reason I took those pills in the first place was because I couldn't sleep, or when I did, I…" You couldn't say it out loud.
"Nightmares?"
You let out a breath. "Every. Damn. Night. Just variations on that night at Starcourt. All ending horribly."
Steve nodded. "Yeah, I get 'em sometimes too. They're a bitch."
"Yeah. Um…Steve?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
You blushed at that. "Would you…stay with me? I think it might help. And I just really don't want you to go."
Steve smiled, that gorgeous grin of his lighting up his entire face. "Of course, baby. I'm not going anywhere."
You laid down in your bed fully, moving over a bit to give him room. Steve held up a finger, indicating he'd be right back, and left the room. You heard running water from the kitchen, and soon he was back with a glass of water. You drank the entire thing and he set the cup on your nightstand before taking off his shoes and climbing into bed with you.
You faced one another and took in each other's features. Your eyes flitted down to Steve's lips, and then he did the same, once, twice, then a third time. Finally, you got tired of waiting.
"Stevie?" you asked.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask for one more favor?"
"Of course, anything."
"Will you please kiss me already?"
Steve wasted no time in moving to press his lips against yours. You gasped into the kiss, fireworks exploring in your head. You had never been in love before now, had never kissed someone you were in love with, and it was absolutely incredible.
You placed your hand on his cheek, crying once more. For Billy, yes, but also out of joy and love. No, you'd never try to hurt yourself again. There were too many important things…important people you'd leave behind.
You pulled away, gasping for air. Steve was much the same. You both grinned goofily at each other, totally blissed out from that mind-blowing first kiss.
You scooted toward him and you both quickly got comfortable. Your head was on Steve's chest, hand entwined with his on his stomach.
"Love you, Stevie," you mumbled sleepily.
"Love you too, baby. Happy birthday."
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#stranger things fanfiction
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December 1st, 2023
Today was the day of the party, but I had planned to meet up with J-- early on in the day. since it already plan to take the day off work, I wasn't that bothered by waking up super early. I was up at like 10:00 a.m. because we had been texting last night and he said he was going to send me an Uber to come get me at 10:30. I explained to him that I didn't have a car. We've established this all the night before, but by the time I walk to the little grocery store that I had agreed to have him send the Uber to, it seemed like he completely forgotten all about it. he sent me a text asking if I still want to hang out that day almost at the exact same time the owner of the mechanic shop called me and told me I need to come down immediately to sign some paperwork. He told me he wasn't even going to look at the car unless I came right that second and was kind of pissed that I got in the car dropped off last night. not sure what he wanted me to do with it until then, but I told J-- to wait a minute and got an Uber to the mechanic shop.
when I got there, I explained to them I was happening with the car and was quickly told that what I was talking about was impossible. I guess I'm just too stupid to know what the fuck was happening with my own car. I fucking hate mechanics. I have never had one that doesn't act like a complete dickwad. anyways, we went out to the car and of course it started acting normally. it does this word acts normally at first and then suddenly get all shaky and crazy and it won't go about 45 miles an hour. not to mention the steering issues I was having with it last night. I explained to him that it doesn't happen every single time I turn on the car but he cut me off and told me to just open the hood. I did that and him and his little buddy, I guess maybe his Apprentice I have no clue, looked under the hood for about 3 seconds. then, he came over and said that the car was too complicated for him work on. he basically said “ good luck fucker” and told me to take the car off his lot.
I told W---- about what had happened and how much of a dick that guy had been, but just drove the car back to my place. there was a really much I was like I do at that point. we agreed that I could drive the car up to his place for the party tonight and he would be able to find a mechanic that was actually for real going to work out instead of just being an asshole. better than nothing, but that means that I would be without a car for several days probably.
after I get home, I explained to J-- that I could come over now so I sent an Uber to come pick me up. it was an hour long Uber drive and I hadn't brought any headphones since I recently thrown mine in the washer accidentally. I tend to leave them in the pockets of my clothes which means that they get fucked up in the washing machine. I didn't want to waste any of my phone battery just in case, so I was just kind of staring out the window for the full hour drive. he lives really far away, really back behind some Lakes and tucked away in the corner of nothing. it looks a lot like retirement homes, which made sense cuz he was old as fuck.
when I got there, I just kind of walked up this random set of stairs I found which I guess led to the back door. there were these huge glass windows and he came up and opened the door for me. he didn't look anything like his pictures. very skinny, very ugly. I think he might have also been on drugs or something cuz he seemed incredibly Spacey and was running around and couldn't keep one thought in his head at a time. I came in and sat down on the couch and he almost immediately asked if it would be okay if he could just pay me $100 and then send me back. apparently there was something going on with his kid in the school and he said that he couldn't focus on having sex and dealing with this at the same time. honestly, not that big a deal to me. more than a waste of time than anything else.
what sucked about it though is that I had to sit with him the entire time while I was waiting for the Uber to show up. and J-- was so fucking disgusting. he had this big can of jelly beans I was just sitting on the counter and he would grab handfuls of them at a time and shove them in his mouth. that by itself wasn't that bad, But every time he chewed it sounded like somebody was slamming their fist into the counter. it was so loud and he chewed with his mouth open and it was so wet and Squishy but at the same time sounded like wooden teeth were cracking together. as far as I know he did have one teeth. it was so loud and so gross. not to mention he constantly had drool running out of the side of his mouth whether he was eating or not. I was honestly completely Disgusted and honestly so happy that I wasn't going to have to kiss him or make out with him or pretend to enjoy having sex with him.
the Uber driver finally showed up, thankfully, but it was another fucking old man who couldn't figure out how to work his gps. he kept yelling at his phone and smacking the dashboard is if that was going to help. he also kept arguing with it, kept asking me whether we were going the right direction, and kept cutting people off. I'm surprised I didn't die on the hour-long Uber that it took to come home. I blocked J-- on everything immediately after because I am not going to be spending any more time with that drooling, saggy, ugly-ass mother fucker.
#blog#daily blog#suagr baby#suagr dating#vodka redbull#my writing#spilled thoughts#daily journal#journal
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Blink and you will miss it - Wolviecat - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]
Day 16 of the Febuwhump, prompt: Semi-conscious
In the end, dying didn't hurt that much. Well, it did hurt, more than anything in his life - both having his insides ripped open by the demobats, and having to listen to Dustin's desperate sobbing as he begged him to stay - but still, he somehow expected more. Maybe he was just a bigger masochist than he knew.
And then there was the fact that he survived, as far as he could tell. For a second, he hoped that the party had somehow dragged him back into the Right Side Up and into the hospital, but the world around was a little too cold and grimy even for whatever low-budget shithole his uninsured ass would land. But it was also a little too tangible for any after-life he could end up in, and missing the Valkyries and meadhalls of the one he was secretly hoping for.
No, he was still in the same Upside Down, wearing the same ripped, bloodstained t-shirt over his ripped, bloodstained stomach. He tried to sit up and everything still inside him shifted and there was that pain he was waiting for. Back on the ground, biting his tongue because screaming didn't feel like the wisest course of action, he managed to peel off his shirt, tear it into strips and bandage himself as well as he could. It wasn't good at slightest, but at least it made him feel better. At least he didn't have to look at his guts.
He dragged himself back to his trailer, but the gate was already closed, their improvised rope lying tangled up on the ground. For a second, something hot and bitter flooded his mind They left you here, they cried and then they turned and forgot about you before he could stamp it down. They didn't, they couldn't know he's still alive, hell, even he had still troubless believing it.
Too tired to continue, he curled up on the dusty mattress on the ground and closed his eyes.
His mouth tasted like iron and dust. He spat, and the half-chewed something that hit the floor was stripped gray and green, rotten. He gagged, but nothing came up. His body was somehow holding on whatever food he managed to find, no matter how rancid it was. He rubbed his temples. There was a hazy hole between the moment he went to sleep - passed out - in the trailer and when he found himself in this decaying copy of the Hawkins store. He has no way of telling how much time has passed. The Upside Down looked the same, day or night. The blood on his improvised bandage looked dry, brown and black, but the wound underneath felt the same when he touched it carefully. Not that he knew how long it would take for something as big to heal.
It wasn't the first time something like that had happened to him. Every single of his high school teachers had caught him staring into space, physically awake and present, but mentally somewhere far away. Maybe if he managed through an hour of education without zoning out, he thought, none of this would ever happen. He would already be away from Hawkins, someone else would have taken over the Hellfire club…
Someone else would have been facing the demobats, or maybe it would be just Dustin.
He shuddered. Apparently trying to escape his fate always meant throwing someone else under the bus.
He blinked.
Another moment skipped past without him noticing, and the can he was eating from was empty. He should be scared, but any adrenaline he had was already burned, leaving behind only a dull buzzing nothing.
Maybe dying from food poisoning is still better than starving to death.
Walking was monotonous and tiring and he was almost glad to skip the most of it, waking only for the random encounters in the fucked up game session his life has become. Demodogs and demobats and brand new monsters he'd never seen before, all clearly hellbend to hunt him down. He learned which ones he's strong enough to beat - it got easier as he found the right places to hit, and stopped getting sick at the sight of their brains spilling out, black blood splattering his face - and which ones to avoid.
The demogorgon still scared him.
He was hiding behind a car, palms pressed over his mouth to stay silent while that spindly creature stalked around. He remembered the kids telling him that El - their never seen, superpowered friend - was able to kill it with just her mind. But he was just a guy armed with a rusted piece of iron. It was safer to stay hidden, to curl up so small it would miss him. It was a coward's way out, but he'd already had enough heroism to last him for the rest of his life.
It worked once. Twice. Time and time again, leaving him shaken and sweaty and gasping for breath. Until it didn't. Until the Demogorgon was snarling into his face, and there was nothing else to do but to close his eyes
That thing was dead. Blood was running down his face, and the monster was lying broken in front of him. Its below you, the little voice in his head said, it deserved to die for challenging the great K
He fell down to his side, unable to stay upright, and cried, because there is something stronger than the Demogorgon, and he couldn't remember it.
He stopped waiting for his wounds to heal.
He stopped asking why his hair got lanky and greasy, but never grew, why his beard stayed a stubble.
He stopped looking at himself in the mirrors, unsure what he would see.
There were lines along his back itching so much that he'd actually scraped his skin away.
The gaps in his memories became longer. Even the moments he was aware felt like going through the motions without any conscious thought behind it. It felt like someone else was pulling the strings.
He stopped eating. He never got sick from the old cans, but he didn't feel like trying anymore.
The voice in his head grew lounder, shouting over his thoughts they have forget you they have betrayed you they will not come back.
Someone was with him in the Upside down. He could feel them - not the blank, simple minds of the creatures born here, but something different. Human, mostly. He went to greet them.
It took them a minute to recognise him, another one to believe. But their childish faith was louder than any reason, and they wanted him back so much.
Kas smiled.
In the back of his mind, Eddie was just a little voice screaming.
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The one with the matchmaking
My masterlist
Description | Victoria is desperate to set you and Thomas up... Might there be a spark already?
Content | Fluff
Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas
Word Count | 2663
Taglist (add yourself here!) | @mywritingonlyfans @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @shaunthesheesh @damianodavidhands @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @solasullabarca @foryourllove @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @ginny-lily @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00
***
There had been an unspoken thing between you and Thomas from the first day you met. It was one of those right person, wrong time scenarios. Both of you were happily taken by other people, loving your partners, and leading healthy relationships. It simply hadn't been meant to be and both of you had gladly accepted it. Nothing had ever happened, despite the others insisting there must have, neither of you was like that. So you stayed friends with him, the same way you stayed friends with Victoria, Damiano, and Ethan and it didn't take long for the five of you to grow into a loving group, a chosen family. That was until both you and Thomas happened to have broken up with your respective partners within the same week. It was safe to say that it didn't take long for the meddling to start.
***
"I just think they'd make such a good couple!" Victoria said, pushing the empty beer bottles around on the table in annoyance. "They're basically made for each other."
"Leave it, Vic," Ethan said. The dark of the bar was hiding his features and the fact he was slightly rolling his eyes. "They both literally just got out of relationships, I don't think they're interested."
"But they both ended them so it's not like they've been broken up with," she insisted. "I'm sure they'll get over it quickly enough."
"Yeah I agree with Vic," Damiano added. "It's not like either of them seems all that heartbroken."
"Exactly, which is why we need to act now!"
"I still don't think it's a good idea," Ethan sighed. "Just let them figure it out on their own."
"But they're idiots! They'll never figure it out!"
Damiano couldn't help laugh out loud. He knew his friend was onto something, both Thomas and Y/n tended to be hilariously oblivious when it came to things like these.
"Maybe they just need a little push," he agreed.
"Fine." A deep sigh escaped Ethan. "But don't say I didn't warn you if it doesn't work out."
***
The moment you stepped into the vintage second-hand store you decided it was heaven on earth. It didn't take long for you to sweep through the place like a whirlwind, picking up pieces left and right, leaving Victoria and Thomas standing at the entrance still. You didn't care, this was one of your favourite places and you were not going to be held back because those two were slow. You tried on a dress that looked like an absolute mess on you and you quickly took a picture to laugh at later with the others, before trying on some trousers that you really took a liking to. You were still in them, trying to figure out if you had also grabbed a top that would match when someone knocked on the wood of the changing room. Confused and not certain if the noise was directed at you, you pulled back the curtain to come face to face with Thomas. He noticed you were in your bra before you did.
You raised your eyebrows, overly amused at how he was nervously looking around to figure out if anyone else would be able to see her, but no one seemed to be around. As he turned back, he tried not to let his gaze fall into her chest again, but failed miserably. You laughed heartily, "It's fine, stop blushing, Thomas."
He grinned, more relaxed not that he knew you didn't mind. He shouldn't, this being far from the first time he'd seen you like this.
"Vic told me to give you this dress to try on."
You looked at the piece of fabric he handed you, a gorgeous, velvety black, knee-high dress with a dangerous slit and a plunging neckline. It wasn't something you would have chosen yourself, but you trusted Vic's judgment. The curtain was quickly closed again, removing the trousers you had already decided on and slipped on the dress. It fell in a much nicer way than you had anticipated, easily smoothing itself over your curves and settling perfectly in place. The mirror agreed with your sentiment - you looked gorgeous. Okay, so this dress would do with a bit more makeup and without a bra, but it was a no-brainer that you were going to buy it.
You ripped open the curtain, now facing both of your friends. As soon as Vic saw you, she seemed as smitten with it as you were. Thomas looked stunned in his own way but stayed quiet.
"Fuck, I knew that was your dress!" Victoria shouted, obviously proud of herself for picking it out.
"Where am I ever going to wear this?" You asked, spinning to muster your reflection once again.
"When I take you out tomorrow night," Vic grinned. "There's a gorgeous new restaurant in town but it's fancy fancy, so this will do just fine."
You couldn't help but squint your eyes at her through the mirror. Her suggestion sounded just fine, but the way her eyes flickered made you feel like there was something more to the story.
***
"Wait, so how will you going out with her to dinner help, exactly?"
"Oh, Damiano, stop being so dumb. Obviously, I won't go."
"I don't get it."
"I'll have some sort of last-minute emergency, and since both of you will be out of the house, Thomas will have to step in."
Ethan sighed, shaking his head at his friend's plan.
"Why do you have to meddle so much, Vic?"
"Because those two don't get it. But once they see each other all dressed up, romantic dinner, candles, good wine, it'll click."
"Whatever you say."
***
"Oh my god, Y/n, I'm so sorry!" Victoria burst into your room, Chili cradled in her arms and an apologetic look on her face. "I know we said we'd go to that fancy restaurant tonight, but Chili's been coughing and the vet told me to come in immediately."
You side-eyed the little white dog, looking as happy as can be, but there was no reason for you not to trust Victoria. Right? You briefly petted Chili's head.
"Don't worry about it, we can always go some other time."
"No!" Her outburst surprised you. "I mean, it's so difficult to get a reservation there and you should wear your dress out. Damiano and Ethan are out, but I'm pretty sure Thomas is free, please ask him, he'd probably love to go with you!"
You wanted to scold Victoria, tell her this wasn't happening, tell her you'd be fine just staying home, but she didn't give you a chance to do any of it. Instead, she left your room, immediately shouting for her bandmate. It was the reason you found yourself at a candlelit dinner with the blond man mere hours later.
"You look amazing, by the way," Thomas said. Well, he actually kind of mumbled it into his pasta rather than proudly state it. You felt like blushing.
"So do you, love. But you know I love you in a suit."
Your eyes met, just for a moment, before both of you found yourselves awkwardly staring back at your plates again. You didn't know why you were behaving like this, or why he was, you could only attribute it to the fact that this felt like an overly romantic date and the waiter had referred to you as his girlfriend multiple times already. Neither of you had corrected him. You hadn't minded the single rose that had been placed between you on the table, accompanied by a little wink and a smile by the waiter.
"You know, you make a lousy boyfriend, not even bringing me flowers for our date, " you teased, watching as a shy smile appeared on Thomas' face, his eyes travelling down the table for a second before looking at you again with more than a twinkle.
"I did take you to the nicest restaurant in town, surely that gets me some points?"
The giggle bubbled over your lips easily. Everything came easy with Thomas. He made the troubles disappear with one look, one touch of a hand, a single word, a gesture, his existence. He was your own personal cure to everything.
***
"No, I'm telling you, it worked," Victoria excitedly gasped and she gathered in the kitchen with Damiano and Ethan, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. "You should have seen them when they came back!"
"Did you actually wait up for them?" Ethan asked, slightly disbelieving, slightly amused.
"Well, they didn't know obviously! I just cracked my bedroom door open a bit. But they were all giggly and happy and they hugged when they said goodnight!"
"Vic, we all hug all the time," Damiano threw in.
"Not the way they did. I'm serious, this is working and you'll see soon enough!"
"So what's the next idea then?"
"I'm... I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "But I'll figure it out and it'll be perfect."
***
The thunderstorm hadn't been predicted by any of the weather channels. You found yourself standing in front of the patio doors with Thomas, watching the heavy rain disturb the surface or the pool, trees swaying in the wind, a flash of light illuminating the garden in regular intervals. It had only been the two of you home when it had started, everyone else out to meet friends or sitting in a bar with a drink in their hand. You had been having a lazy day, unwilling to leave the house at all, while Thomas had slept for so long no one had bothered trying to wake him so he could join in on plans.
"Do you want to compare our favourite records?"
You had been so focused on the happenings outside of the glass that you almost flinched in surprise at his question. Still, a slight smile, the right kind of look, and you were nodding enthusiastically. Hasting up the stairs, barefoot and in nothing but shorts and the shirt you usually slept in, you went through the little collection you had brought to the summer house, already hearing the first notes of Led Zeppelin's Black Dog echoing downstairs. With a smile on your face, you grabbed a few records and bolted back down to Thomas.
"I still prefer Led Zeppelin III," you giggled, only to be greeted with Thomas' shocked face. "Anything that has Immigrant Song on it is a hit, really."
"Blasphemy! Nothing tops IV, and you clearly have no taste."
"You clearly have no taste considering you think anything Led Zeppelin has put out is better than Fleetwood Mac's Rumours." You barely waited for the first song of Thomas' album of choice to finish playing before interrupting it with the sound of Second Hand News.
It didn't take long for the conversation to get heated. Still, you kept playing your record in the background, effortlessly dodging his effort to change it, even though the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. He was still complaining, explaining, talking to a wall basically, as you danced around the living room, as the music flowed through you, singing along, thunder only happens when it's raining, as the weather outside did its worst.
"I just think it's much too sad, most of it," Thomas finally concluded.
"Doesn't that just make it so beautiful though?"
"No, it just makes me sad," he pouted.
"Maybe you just never listened to it the way you should. In the arms of someone you love."
A heartbeat passed as both of you looked at each other, but then your smile returned and you motioned for him to get on the sofa with you, lying on your side as he slowly but surely moved in front of you. Your arms wrapped around him, spooning him, making you feel safer than you ever have as Songbird played in quiet tones.
Your nose buried itself in his hair, letting his smell fill your every pore, taking over your whole being as you pressed into him, singing along in nothing but a whisper.
"And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."
***
"Guys, guys, guys, look at that!" Victoria called out to her friends as they quietly made their way into the house. "I knew it would be such a good idea to leave them alone in the house!"
"Vic, it's not like you made a thunderstorm come along, I'm pretty sure this was not your doing for once," Damiano whispered.
"Doesn't matter! Look at them spooning! We're on the right way, guys!"
"We're not on any way," Ethan threw in. "You keep trying to meddle and the two of them are going their own ways."
"They just need another push. I just gotta think of something."
***
"Hey, they let you feed the goats here!" Victoria squealed as everyone around her let out a groan. The zoo was bustling with people, the five friends surrounded by families, and Vic easily fell in line with the children's excitement.
"Vic, I really really don't like goats," you complained. "I'd rather not get their attention because I got food in my hands."
"Fine. How about you go see the owls over there with... Thomas, and I go feed some adorable goats with Ethan and Damiano?"
The both of you allowed yourselves to be pushed away easily, chuckles on your faces as you walked away from the rest of the group, dodging running toddlers as you went.
"So, this is a set-up, huh?" Thomas grinned next to you as his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer.
"Oh, as if Victoria has been doing anything these past weeks without hidden intentions." You let yourself mold into Thomas' side, leaning in closer until your bodies were touching as much as physically possible. "She's not half as subtle about this as she thinks. I'm sure she's watching right now."
You didn't turn around, but you felt her eyes on the pair of you, watching your every move and trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you.
"Do you wanna give her a show?" You playfully pinched his site, looking at him from the corner of your eyes just to see a smile appear on his face that was surely mirroring yours. "Make out a little bit?"
"Wouldn't that give it away?" He stopped walking, now wrapping both of his arms around you as you leaned on his chest, looking up at him.
"I'm sure she'd still think it's just a first step in the right direction."
Not waiting for his response, your hand reached up to his face, slowly stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip as his smile grew, then reaching around, tangling them into his hair and pulling him down to you. His lips met yours in a sigh, warm and lovely, a tingling feeling spreading through you immediately, pressing yourself into him. You could feel his thumb stroking your back ever so slightly as he held you. He wanted more, slowly moving his lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. Close enough to still feel his breath on you, close enough that whispering would be enough.
"Now, we don't want Vic to figure it all out immediately," you grinned before putting more distance between the two of you. He groaned, making you giggle, before taking your hand and pulling you along.
"How much longer are you planning to keep this up?" Thomas asked, shaking his head, but still amused. "We've been together for two weeks."
"Pretty sure she already bought tickets for the cinema for me and her for Wednesday... which she'll inexplicably have no time for so you'll have to come along, obviously. I can give you a hickey in the dark theater, she'll freak."
Thomas laughed out loud, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head.
"Fine. One more date, that's it?"
"One more date."
#maneskin fiction#thomas raggi imagine#thomas raggi fiction#thomas raggi x you#thomas raggi x reader#thomas raggi fluff#maneskin fluff#maneskin imagine#maneskin x you#maneskin x reader#mywriting#fluff
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Slice of Life
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (mostly)GN!reader
Wc: 1.1 k
Cw(s): Arseholish ex-boyfriend, not just dialogue (tell me if it sucks and should go back to not posting)
Summary: Josh helps you discover how beautiful your slice of life is.
Masterlist
Previously, you had thought you had been in love before. You thought it was true, that it would last forever and ever - but nothing like that, out of a storybook, could ever have the legs to last forever. After all, forever is a long, long time.
You thought love was him pulling out your chair for you at dinner, then tucking you into the table. You thought it was the rich bouquet of flowers after fights. You thought it was letting you sleep in on weekends. But you were wrong, and that mistake lead to one of the lowest points of your life.
Then again, it lead to Josh.
After a few days of crying, you needed something other than work and your flat. So you took the beautiful Saturday to yourself. After wandering the chilly streets of the city, you stumbled upon an art gallery. You entered, forgetting your previous lover had been an artist - remembering only once you came across a massive canvas of the two of you in embrace.
You sat on one of the benches that littered the room. Your eyes refused to betray the canvas, but tears began to flood your eyes. How the fuck could he still enter that portrait, after he was caught red-handed? Thrown out of the flat you shared, which was under your name.
"I was hoping you'd come here," David whispered, his voice low and relieved. You didn't look at him as he sat beside you, putting his arm over your bent back. "It was meant to be an anniversary surprise, now it's just an apology."
"Well, that'd be a grand gesture if an apology actually came out of your lips," you sighed. You were embarrassed by the other patrons, looking at the two of you on the bench, then the two of you on the wall. You were tired and sad and this certainly was not helping. Standing up, you looked at David. "You really fucked up, David."
"You never call me David." His voice broke a little. Leave it to him to try and make it seem like you were the monster, breaking up with him, even after he fucked his best friend's girl, in your bed.
"What a shame for you," you replied in an irate tone. Taking a deep breath, you patted his shoulder. "I hope you're doing well and I hope I never see you again."
Before he could say anything else, you left. Tears no longer remained in your eyes. There was a certain amount of closure you got that day, that would be enough for you to finally get back on with your life. It had been so long since you'd been without David, it was refreshing.
You were content with being single.
Until you laid eyes on that curly brunet.
Months after David, you found yourself in a clothing store. It was a sort-of boho vibe in the store - lots of cotton, wicker, tweed and denim. And there he was. Perusing the women's trousers while you looked over the men's shirts. Both of you kept throwing looks to the other, just narrowly missing each look.
It didn't take long for him to come over and talk to you.
"Shopping for your boyfriend? Is it his birthday or something?" He asked you from over a rack. You chuckled, shaking your head.
"No, I just like clothes that fit me like ocean liners," you responded. The beautiful man smiled to you. "And you? Getting your girlfriend some jeans?"
"Far from it - I just needed some jeans that don't give me a cardboard box illusion." You laughed at his joke. His eyes sparkled under the dark LED lights above. "How about a drink sometime? Show each other the outfits we've bought?"
To say it caught you off-guard was an overstatement. You were just a bit...shocked. This guy was bold, he was beautiful, he was funny. And he went for you. The dots didn't connect in your mind, but you gladly accepted the invitation and Josh gave you his number and name.
You had to thank David. Without the bittersweet goodbye at the gallery, you wouldn't have wanted to still dress the same as you had. You wouldn't have been in the store.
The pub was just the first date of many. The second was a garden gallery, given it had just turned April and the flowers were coming out. Your third was to the cinema.
You had thought, surely, the honeymoon period would end after a few months. Josh would lose his allure, get annoying, become more of a liability than a partner. You were expecting it, you were ready for it.
It never came.
Months flew by and you realized that the honeymoon period had never ended. But all the signs were there. Josh was annoying and loud, but it had never pissed you off. Josh was a ball of energy, but it never rubbed you the wrong way. And, someway, somehow, he had managed to not even make an off-handed comment.
Josh asked you to move in with him, you agreed, but you had thought, surely, you would get sick of living with him within the first two months. Josh wouldn't clean up after himself, he'd bring people over all the time, he would forget his share of rent but always come home with new clothes. You were, once again, ready for it.
And, once again, it never came.
Instead, you came to the realization that Josh loved you. In a way you'd never expected, in a way that made your soul ache.
He didn't cook and clean by himself, but the two of you would equally split up household duties. If you cooked, Josh would do up the dishes, and vice versa. If Josh swept, you mopped. Josh, your beautiful boy, never expect you to be perfect, just that he would always have you in his arms as you two slept through the nights that were far too short.
When the two of you got into fights (it was unavoidable, but very rare), Josh made sure it was resolved by the time the two of you went to sleep. The two of you would talk it out (only once did you ever raise your voice, and you knew it was a mistake as soon as it happened, then it never happened again). Then a plan would be drawn on how to avoid the problem, how to fix it, so on and so forth. But Josh always followed through.
The love you and Josh shared, the life you shared, wasn't out of a crumby old storybook written by the Grimm Brothers. It was real. It was real life and the best possible version of it there had ever been. Onlookers envied you, your friends and siblings cheered you on.
Josh helped you realize the beauty of life, among other things. You realized true love is balance. You realized that love isn't a constant race, it's a comfortable marathon. You realized how much you loved your own slice of life, with your beau by your side. And you couldn't ask for anything more.
#josh kiszka#josh gvf#josh kiszka x reader#josh kiszka imagine#josh kiszka fic#josh kiszka fanfiction#one shot#oneshot#josh kiszka oneshot#x reader#joshua gvf#joshua kiszka
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Prisoner's Game Pt. 3 (Rowaelin)
~Aelin~
There was something decidedly pleasant about sneaking out of prison.
It was the thrill, she supposed.
She'd always been a bit of an adrenaline junky, and there was nothing that matched up to the excitement of breaking out of a maximum security prison with no one being the wiser.
Aelin ran through the tunnel, her steps sure and soundless, a smile blooming on her face. What she was doing shouldn't give her such joy, but along with being a thrill seeker, she'd always been just a little bit vindictive.
Or maybe a lot.
The map of the tunnels was still crystal clear after all this time, and she had it memorized down to the number of steps it took to get to the right turn.
It was a three hour run. Two underground, then one through the city out into the suburbs.
While the first two hours were definitely not fun, it was the last hour that was tricky.
Avoiding cameras, not drawing any unwanted attention, dressing so no one could see her face without looking too much like the criminal she was.
It was also more exhausting.
It was an hour of sprinting across rooftops, sprinting through town, then sprinting some more.
It was a little funny to her that the journey to where she needed to go was more difficult than actually breaking into the building.
She had a set of scrubs stored in a nearby lockbox, along with a wig and a few prosthetics to make her look more like Ansel, one of the nurses working the night shift.
The security guard, Shelly, was prone to reading romance novels during her shift and never questioned why she occasionally thought she saw two of the same person wandering around.
It was no different tonight.
Once she had everything in place, Aelin strode confidently through the halls, grabbing charts and nodding like she knew what the hell she was looking at.
No one stopped her, no one questioned her.
When she got to the room and chart she wanted, she slipped inside soundlessly and crept up to the bed.
Despite the ever-present urge to hurry things along, she stuck to her plan and kept the dose the same.
The person on the bed never woke up, never noticed her slip an extra drug into the IV bag hanging on the wall.
Silent, efficient, traceless.
Just like she'd been taught.
Leaving was even easier than entering.
She waited until real-Ansel had been out of the guard's sight for a while, then walked out the back door of the facility like she hadn't just committed a felony.
One of the few crimes she actually deserved to be in prison for, ironically.
Then she ran back, hiding in the traffic camera's blind spots and ditching the wig along the way.
It was a little stupid and drawn out to do it this way, not to mention unbelievably cruel, but Aelin had always had a flair for the dramatic.
Plus, like she said: exciting.
~Rowan~
Doubt is a strange emotion.
It starts small, so small you hardly even realize it's there.
And then, over time, it grows and grows like a fungus, eventually becoming something that you think about all the time. Something that kills you.
Rowan didn't believe in doubt.
His problem had never been with not believing in himself, it'd always been with the opposite affliction: over-conviction.
He believed things so fully, so deeply, it was hard to see it any other way.
It was what made him such a good lawyer. As the top public prosecutor in the city, he had a reputation for being impossible to win against.
He convinced himself of the defendant's guilt so completely, the jury had almost no option but to believe him.
He hadn't always been that way, he didn't think. Argumentative and stubborn, sure. His mother could attest to that. But never so unflinchingly self-assured. So alright with deceiving himself if need be.
If he had to guess, he'd say it'd started two months after the day of Aelin's trial.
He hadn't been lying to her four days ago; every word had been the truth. He'd worked his ass off all those years ago, trying to find something that would help him either clear her name or at least fucking sleep at night.
He'd given himself a timeline, deciding that if he couldn't find a single lead in two months, there probably wasn't one. Two months, and then he'd let it go.
He didn't regret stopping his hunt--he'd seen what an obsession could do to someone.
And when that day had come, he'd thought he was ready. He'd exhausted himself working both her case and the ones he was assigned, burning the candle at both ends and sleeping in the office more nights than his own bed.
There'd been nothing to be found. The evidence, the testimonies, the medical examiner's reports... they'd all pointed to Aelin.
So eventually he'd forced himself to stop looking.
But the sight of her swinging between the two court police officers, fighting for just one more second with him with a desperation he'd never seen from her... he hadn't known how he could just forget something like that.
The image followed him, haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers. Lined with tears and disbelief and so much hurt he felt like invisible hands were wrapped around his neck.
So he'd hardened himself against it.
He'd repeated the pieces of evidence against her, told himself she was guilty until the words were easy to say, forced himself to visualize the crime scenes of her victims whenever he thought of her.
Piece by piece, he'd swapped out the months of positive memories they had with stone cold facts.
And it had worked.
After a month, he could sleep again. After a year, he hardly thought of her and when he did, it was with disgust.
Yet now, over eight years later, he found himself with just the slightest amount of doubt again.
It was the same nagging, incessant feeling he hadn't been able to shake eight years ago. Back for round two, apparently.
At first, he'd played it off as nerves from their conversation. She'd worked him up so much he'd admitted how much he'd once loved her and said things he shouldn't have.
His body was reacting to the sadness in her eyes, the surprise that had bloomed when he'd told her he'd fought for her. It was emotion, nothing based in logic, that made him want to start looking again.
At least that's what he told himself.
But four days later, he found himself on the couch--he really did need to give up and just buy a new bed--staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep and not being able to.
Because... well because what if she was telling the truth?
Why else would she have told him that story?
What had he missed during all those late nights spent hunched over her folder?
The questions grew and grew, until that once-little shard of doubt started to slowly drive him mad.
The uncertainty, no matter how small it had begun, had grown to be almost irritatingly large and unavoidable.
He couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. The breadcrumbs that apparently only he could find.
What did that mean?
And why couldn't he just let it go?
"Fuck!" he yelled, throwing his blanket off and storming to the closet.
Like a love-struck idiot, he'd kept a box full of the stuff she'd left at his apartment during their relationship. The stuff that wasn't evidence, at least.
If it was something only he could find like she'd said, it was probably something only he had access to.
He dropped the box on his kitchen table and opened the lid.
Then cursed when the first thing he saw was a pair of red lace underwear. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about and remembering.
Especially when he'd barely been able to resist the temptation to kiss her in that interrogation room.
Something about the way she'd looked at him after he'd told her he'd fought for her all those years ago had rattled the grip he had on his control hard.
She'd seemed so... sad. So hopeless. It had brought out the urge to comfort her in whatever way he could.
Hearing about her childhood and how she'd been raised by Arobynn Hamel hadn't made it any better. Truthfully, it'd broken something inside of him.
She'd always been so positive around him--a ray of light he'd felt was put on this earth just for him.
And all the while, she'd been forced to live with and work for one of the most notorious crime syndicate members of all time.
He'd always known she hadn't had a good childhood, but there was a difference between foster care hell and an actual house of horrors. Rowan couldn't even imagine the things she'd seen. Been forced to see, to do.
She made it out, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.
But had she?
If what she'd told him was true, she'd killed those people because she'd been forced to.
It hadn't been her choice.
But there was something else about her, something he couldn't stop thinking about.
The secret she'd eluded to, the one that apparently only he had the key to solving.
A secret she'd promised would explain everything.
He tossed the underwear on the table, vowing to ignore them.
Then threw them in the trash a minute later when that became impossible.
You're such an asshole, he told himself, shaking his head. It's been eight years.
Even if that part of their relationship was most definitely memorable.
"Jesus," he laughed, running a hand over his face. Why was he even thinking about that?
Maybe it was the look in her eyes four days ago, or maybe it was simply that Aelin had been an important part of his life. He'd never forget the connection they'd had. Maybe it would always be a part of him.
But that was ridiculous, because he'd been connected to plenty of women since. Plenty of gorgeous brunettes and redheads.
For some reason, he hadn't been able to date a blonde, but that didn't mean anything.
He was over her.
Obviously.
Forcing his thoughts away from Aelin, he grabbed the next thing in the box.
Her address book. Maybe she'd left a note in there?
He flipped it open, scrolling through blank page after blank page. Her cousin's address and phone number were there--both of which he confirmed with police records--but other than that, it was blank.
The next thing he found made the ache in his chest expand to a soul-sucking hole.
It was a travel brochure for Aruba.
The edges were frayed from how much she'd flipped through it, and notes in her handwriting were scribbled throughout the pages.
He remembered this, all right.
He'd woken up one morning, a morning that seemed like a lifetime ago, to find her laying on top of him, leafing through the travel pamphlet with a huge grin on her face.
"We're going to Aruba," she'd whispered in lieu of a greeting, leaning down to press her lips to his.
"Why?" he'd asked back between kisses.
"Because it's the perfect place to hide from your real life," had been her laughed response.
She'd planned a trip for them at Christmas. Their very first trip together.
Every time they saw each other, she'd shown him a new page or told him about a new activity she wanted to do.
In general, she was a happy, excited person, but he'd never seen her so thrilled over anything like she was that trip.
He'd hidden it better, trying to play it cool, but he'd been excited, too.
He'd pictured her on the beach, running in the sand and smiling and laughing and drinking from a coconut. He'd imagined sneaking to the beach one night and making love to her in the ocean.
He'd imagined getting down on one knee and asking her to be his travel partner for life.
She'd been arrested two weeks before they were supposed to leave.
He tossed the little magazine back into the box, shaking his head to clear it of the memories and long-lost dreams.
The only thing left in the worn box was books.
Aelin had volunteered at a publishing house, trying to get hired as a fiction editor, and she'd always had a book in her ridiculously heavy pocket book.
She'd given him a few of her favorites, claiming that if he ever wanted to know the "real her," he had to read them.
A statement that made a lot more sense now than it used to.
He grabbed the one on top and leafed through it, going through the pages and scanning.
When that didn't yield anything, he flipped to the back of the book and looked at the inscription she'd written him.
March 1
Rowan,
I know you're not a fan of fiction, let alone romantic, feminist fiction, but I hope you'll read this and fall in love with Elizabeth's character like I did.
Aelin
He turned the book over and looked at the front again, then flipped through it again, then went through the whole process again.
Why did he feel like something about this didn't add up? And why was this, of all things, what she'd left as a breadcrumb?
He didn't figure it out until he reread the inscription for the fifth time and realized the date she'd written.
March 1st.
It was wrong; she'd given him this book on his birthday in February. He remembered because he'd laughed about her giving a grown man a romance novel for his birthday.
Why had she put March 1st? And why did that date stand out in his mind?
Stomach dropping, he finally figured out why that date was so important. It was the date of the first murder.
Maddison Kliff, a state senator who controversially wanted to fund renewable energy in the upcoming year, had been murdered the morning of March 1st eight years ago.
Breadcrumb.
He grabbed the next book from the stack, Wuthering Heights, and flipped to the end.
Almost the exact same inscription, except the date was April 13th, and the inspiring character was Linton Heathcliff.
April 13th was the day another victim died.
Rowan's heart started pounding, so hard he thought he was going to either pass out or go into cardiac arrest.
What was the connection between these dates, characters, and victims? Rowan could feel it in his gut that this was what she'd been talking about. It had to be.
He flipped through the books again, looking for something else, but there was nothing there. Nothing was underlined or highlighted, and the books were all in brand-new condition, no pages were bookmarked.
"What are you trying to tell me, Aelin?" he whispered, rubbing at his temples.
He made a list of all the dates and characters, stared at it until he thought he'd go blind, and tried to think like her.
Except her mind was a complex puzzle he'd never quite solved, so that didn't give him anything besides a headache.
He looked in the box again, hoping to magically find another note or something that explained everything in simple, idiot-proof terms.
But all that was there was that damn Aruba magazine.
It's the perfect place to hide from your real life.
The words came rushing back to him, so suddenly and violently it was like his subconscious had been shouting it for a while.
Was that it?
Maybe the connection wasn't only between the dates and characters, but it also had something to do with Aruba.
Maybe that was where this secret, whatever it was, was hiding.
Knowing he was probably grasping at straws, Rowan grabbed his phone and called the one person who'd help him.
"What the hell do you want?"
"I need a favor, Gavriel."
He heard a heavy sigh. "Like a we've been friends for twenty years favor or like an I'm the Chief of Police favor?"
"The latter," Rowan answered.
"Dammit, Rowan, you're going to get me fired one day." That was what he said every time. There was a long pause, then, "What do you need?"
"Flight manifests from Rifthold to Aruba from ten different days eight years ago."
Gavriel caught on quickly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a former flame of yours, would it? One currently serving time for ten murders from eight years ago?"
"Of course not," he lied, knowing he was busted.
Another sigh. "You need to let this go, kid."
Rowan ran a hand over his face, knowing that wasn't possible. Not when, for the first time since he'd been assigned this God forbidden case, he had a lead.
"Can you help me or not?"
"I will, as long as you promise to drop it once whatever you're chasing ends up to be yet another dead end."
Knowing he didn't have another choice, Rowan agreed.
Gavriel told him he'd send them over, then said softly, "I know you loved her, Rowan, but it's time to move on."
It's not that easy, he thought, thinking once again of Aelin sitting in that tiny cell, skin pale and hair too long.
"Thanks for your help," he said instead, hanging up before the lecture could continue.
A few minutes later, he was printing out the passenger lists from all the Rifthold to Aruba flights on each of the ten dates.
Starting with August 1st, he went through, passenger by passenger, and looked for an Elizabeth.
There'd been three direct flights to Aruba that day, so by the time he found it, his eyes were so tired he almost missed it entirely.
But there was a name that stuck out, one that was straight out of his copy of Pride and Prejudice.
Seat 14C had been occupied by Elizabeth Darcy, and she'd flown directly from Rifthold to Aruba on August 1st.
Rowan's jaw damn near hit the floor.
His hands shook as he highlighted the name, writing the victim's name next to it to keep it straight in his head.
His mind whirled with possible explanations, but he didn't let himself think about anything except the next date.
With a sinking feeling in his gut, he went through the passenger list for April 13th.
And sure enough, Linton Heathcliff was on one of the flights. In the same damn seat.
"Holy fuck," he whispered, grabbing the next sheet of paper.
He went date by date, flight by flight, and by the time he'd located every character, he was sure of what he'd found. What she'd left for him.
It wasn't a breadcrumb, it was the whole goddamn loaf.
Rowan barely made it to the kitchen sink before his stomach emptied as an explanation of what had really happened eight years ago started to form in his mind.
He didn't have all the pieces, but the ones he did have made him literally sick to think about.
Her insistence on being innocent, her begging him to look again, telling him only he could find the clues... it all made sense.
The doubt he'd been struggling with for eight long years suddenly disappeared, replaced by a certainty so swift and thorough and all encompassing, it almost took his breath away.
She hadn't been lying.
She hadn't killed those ten people.
She couldn't have, because...
"They're still alive."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dun dun duuuuun
part 4 out next Friday (sorry for the slow updates I'm in summer school)
@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan whitehorn#rowan x aelin#aelin galythinius#throne of glass#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass fandom
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❄️Todoroki HC's🔥
Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.
- - -
General
Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.
He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.
He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.
Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?
Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.
Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.
Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.
He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.
He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.
Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.
Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.
Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.
This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.
- - -
Dating
A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.
Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.
Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.
Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.
Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.
He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.
STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.
Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.
Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.
He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!
The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.
- - -
Icy-Hot
I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.
If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.
Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?
Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.
Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).
His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.
Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.
Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.
His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.
#todoroki shouto#todoroki x you#todoroki x reader#todoroki x y/n#gender neutral reader#todoroki headcanons#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#smut#fred writes#bnha#mha
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PARAPHILIA - Part 1
Pairing: Dom!Baekhyun x You
Genre: EstablishedRelationship!AU, slice of life, smuttt
Tags: strong dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, name calling (slut is used a lot), deepthroat, body writing, toys and more~~
Raiting: +18 (more like 21+ 🤪)
Word count: 3.5k
Summary: Apparantly, the new intern has a crush on you. And it's making your boyfriend Baekhyun jealous... Very jealous...
A/N: First chapter💃!! I’m excited to show you this project! Never hesitate to give me feedback my asks are always open and seeing your reactions make me SO happy💖! I hope you’ll enjoy!! -Cat😽
Tag list: @lovebuginlove @ohh-baekhyun @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey
Tell me if you want to be added/removed
PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist
Paraphilia #1 : SADISM, Inflicting pain to others.
W R O N G F E E L S R I G H T
"Aaaah" you say as you feel the hot tea on your tongue. It's jasmine green tea, your favorite. You sit there in the dining room enjoying the warm sun of the afternoon. It's so relaxing, so nice after a stressful week of work. The new intern is very nice, but god is he a handful. He's just always full of energy but at least he is willing and wants to learn properly. But forming him is quite tiring. So enjoying this quiet time here is nice.
"Babe can you come over here?" you hear the voice of your boyfriend resonate from upstairs. You sigh and frown, annoyed. But you still decide to go see him.
He's in his office, probably playing the piano or practicing his singing skills. He was in there since early morning. You never questioned his wacky sleep schedule. Like he always says: "inspiration doesn't wait". You knew that from the beginning... He's an artist.
You push open the door and he's there on his computer frowning. What's wrong? You ask yourself as you pick up right away that something is off. You walk closer and see he's on your Facebook profile.
"Who's that?" he asks without a glance to you, pointing a finger to the picture of a recently added friend.
"It's Taeyong the new intern, I told you about him" you say in a chuckle. So that's what's wrong with him. He's jealous, you think smiling.
"How do you find him?" he still doesn't look at you.
"Huh? I mean he is pretty smart which makes things easier, but overall, he has a lot to learn it's only normal when you are fresh out of school. I mean when I started, I-" but Baekhyun interrupts you.
"I don't mean it like this! Do you think he’s... attractive?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculous question. Finally, Baekhyun looks at you but it's only to shoot you a death glare. You stop and bite your lips trying not to laugh again.
"I mean... Of course I can't say he's ugly but I-" Before you can continue your boyfriend rips the black bob off his head and throws it on the desk. He immediately brushes back his blond hair, running his fingers through it. You flinch. Shit, he's actually upset about this.
"What about this?" he switches to another tab on the computer. This time it's your Instagram page. He clicks on the most recent post. It's a selfie you posted last week when you went out with Baekhyun, you liked your makeup that day and thought it was instagramable.
"What about it?" You genuinely ask. Your boyfriend sighs, frustrated.
"TYdragon95, is it his username?" Baekhyun asks, his tone has changed from cold to angered, you swiftly look at him, he's clenching his jaw.
"Yes I suppose so, he was born in 1995, so yeah probably..."
"Yeah of course it's him... he liked every single one of your pictures..."
Baekhyun proceeds to scroll to the other photos and it's true. His username is under every single one of them.
"Well, no, he didn't like the pictures where we are together..." he says in a cynical tone. You stand there next to him, silent, what could you possibly reply? Baekhyun chuckles coldly.
"He's probably, right now imagining you under him, his hand in his pants..." he whistles between greeted teeth. You laugh nervously.
"Hyunie, don't be stupid... he's just a guy I work with" you say fidgeting with your fingers. You know this mood. You know how angry your boyfriend can get.
"Really? Huh?" Baekhyun says, finally getting up from his chair. He stands right in front of you, only a couple centimeters (1in) separate the both of you. You are intimidated. He's so much taller than you...
"Baekhyun, please" you say in a pleading tone while taking a step back. Baekhyun steps closer.
"Baby girl do you like him?" he says in a low husky voice, sending shivers down your spine. Once again, you step back and he steps closer. You step back again, and he follows you, making you backup against the cold wall of his office, almost falling on the drums on your left.
"Baekhyun don't be ridiculous... I-"
"FUCKING ANSWER ME!!!" he yells throwing his palm on the wall next to your face. Your breath is hitching your throat.
"No Babe! Of course, not. I only love you" you say your voice trembling.
"Is this true?" his tone is somewhat softer. He leans in, inching his face close to yours.
"Yes..." you say softly, almost whispering.
"Maybe I have to remind you who you belong to"
You feel goosebumps in the nape of your neck. You know exactly what he means...
"Go in the room and wait for me there" with that he removes his hand and you quickly leave the room without daring looking at him. Without any detours you go straight to your room and sit on the king-sized bed.
You feel a familiar tingly feeling rise in your lower stomach. You don't even have time to think that your hand travels on its own to your crotch. As soon as your fingers press on your core the door slams open.
Baekhyun chuckles coldly, looking you up and down.
"You little slut you couldn't even wait for me, could you?" he walks quickly to you and yanks hard on your arm to make you stand. You wince in pain.
"What do you say?"
"I'm sorry daddy." You whimper. Suddenly he flips you over and makes you lay over his lap with your butt up. Without much consideration he roughly pulls up your t-shirt dress. His hand rests delicately over your clothed bottom as you are still wearing your baby blue laced panties. Gently, he strokes your butt cheeks with his thumb.
"Baby girl, you need a little reminder that you belong to daddy and daddy only. So, I have to punish you, you understand that, right?" he says as he slowly pulls down your lace panties. You simply nod quietly.
"So, baby girl I'm going to spank you 15 times and you will say thank you to each one of them. Understood?"
"Yes daddy" you say, already bracing for impact.
You feel his cold hand lift up from your skin. Then you hear the loud noise. Full force spanking your tiny ass. Lastly, you feel the pain, make you scream at the very first strike. It just started but already you feel the tingly feeling in your lower stomach grow.
"I didn't hear you baby"
"Thank you, daddy." You whimper.
"Good girl" Right away he spanks you again. You scream again, already your butt is burning. You can't help but to moan in between each scream. You feel each nerve of your sensitive skin.
"Thank you, daddy"
Baekhyun spanks again until he reaches 15. Your ass is raw, the pain feels so good, you bite your bottom lip trying to refrain from begging him to fuck you right now. Because you know daddy doesn't like being told what to do, especially when he's angry.
He puts you back up and makes you sit up on the bed. He stands in front of you as he unbuckles his belt.
"Now you're gonna suck daddy off, to make up to him" right there he rips out his fat cock in front of your very eyes. You can't help but gasp and the beautiful sight. He was so hard, precum pearling at the tip. It made your mouth water in anticipation.
You look at him with hungry eyes and just nod while opening wide. Baekhyun smirks.
"Good girl" he says, pinching your nose and slowly pushing himself inside your tiny mouth. He doesn't stop at the first resistance, instead he pushes harder, making his way past the back of your throat. You feel the burn with each inch as he grunts loudly. You can't breathe anymore, not through your nose and certainly not through your mouth.
Without a warning Baekhyun starts to rapidly pump himself in and out of your mouth making your eyes water. You feel tears roll down your cheeks as you try to gasp for air. Baekhyun doesn't stop and skull fucks you even deeper, tearing your throat apart. You try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. He just moans louder using your face as his personal fuck toy.
Finally, he pulls out allowing you to breathe. You loudly gasp for air. Coughing, you look up at your boyfriend. He still looks pissed.
"Fuck babe, that little slut mouth of yours is fitted for my cock, isn't it?" he says trying to catch his breath pushing his blond hair back. You cough still trying to pull yourself together.
Without warning, Baekhyun leans in and his hands reach for the collar of your dress with one powerful and swift move he rips it off your body leaving you in your baby blue lace bra only.
"Take that off for me" he says pointing at the bra as he passes his oversized hoodie over his head. You look in awe at the muscles of his back and abs moving to mesmerize you. He looks so good, he's lightly sweating from pleasuring himself with your mouth. He's stark naked in front of you, you gulp loudly, anticipating but also fearing what's to come.
"Lay there" he commands pointing a finger to the bed, you do as you're told and lay with your arms resting to your sides. Baekhyun then gets up and walks to the dresser. He opens the fourth drawer. You know what he stores in this drawer, you squirm in apprehension.
When he turns back to you, he's holding a red marker and two, no, three nipple clamps.
"Baby girl, you know you've been bad, right?" You look at him with scared eyes but nod. He sits next to you.
"This one is for allowing another man to think about you" he says as he clips the clamp on one of your nipples. You bite your lip at the delicious pinching sensation.
"This one is for daring to even say his name in front of me" he places the second clamp on your other nipple. You gasp. It feels so good, your watery eyes fill up with tears again.
"And this one is for reminding you who owns you" he places the last one on your untouched but very anticipating clit. This time you can't help but to scream and grip the sheets as the pain spreads through your core. Baekhyun looks down at you with a satisfied smirk.
"Hmmm baby, you look so pathetic squirming like that." He leans over you. "Does it hurt, baby?" he purrs as a cold smile spreads on his lips. You looked up at him, pouting and eyebrows knitted together and nod.
"Baby girl, it's only fair for you to be treated this way because you were very bad you understand, right?"
You nod, the tears finally streaming down your face. Baekhyun smiles in satisfaction again, he loves to see you in this state, wrapped around his fingers. He controls you, he owns you.
Then, he takes the red sharpie out. He takes off the cap and writes on your body, first right under your collarbones, then on your lower stomach and finally on your face.
"Go ahead and get up to go see how beautiful you look."
You get up and wince in pain again as the gravity pulls on the clamps. You walk up to the full length mirror. Baekhyun wrote "cocksleeve" across your chest, "my cunt" right over your pussy and finally "daddy's slut" on each of your cheeks.
"Aren't you pretty?" You turn back to him.
"Yes, thank you daddy" you meekly answer.
You want to walk back to him, but he puts his hand up and stops you.
"Not so fast, baby girl. The punishment isn't over yet. You are not allowed to walk back to me... Get on all fours and crawl to me like the bitch that you are"
You feel the humiliation rush to your cheeks and spread to your body. But you obey anyway, you do as you're told. Your knees against the cold hard wood you approach your sadistic boyfriend.
"Good girl, now. Crouch and tell daddy how sorry you are" You feel the tears well up again.
"Daddy..." you start with your voice trembling, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry. I will never upset you again."
Silence follows, you lift your head to look up at him and without a warning he slaps you across the face, almost making you fall. You rub your cheek.
"Gotta have to do better than that" he replies with the harshest tone. Now you are just sobbing.
"This little slut is sorry daddy. She doesn't deserve a daddy as perfect as you. I am nothing more than your personal fuck toy and a mere toy should only serve her daddy and no other men should be allowed to lay eyes on it. Daddy I'm sorry for being a dirty whore I will make it up to you I promise."
Baekhyun chuckles, visibly satisfied to see you dragging yourself down like this. You can't help but to let your eyes trail down his perfect body to his cock... He is harder than ever.
"That's right baby you are my pathetic little slut" he says gently stroking your still burning cheek.
"You know what baby? Daddy wants you to hurt as much as you hurt him by allowing this man in your life." He harshly grabs your face.
"So, you're going to stand up and you're going to show daddy how your pretty little face twists in pain" he says with a large, wicked smile.
You stand up.
"Jump, lemme see the clamps bounce."
You do as you're told and bounce yourself up and down. The weight of the clamp on your clit is unbearable and you just frown deeply in pain.
"Good girl now pull on the clamps on your nipples"
You pull on them harshly, the joyous pain makes you roll your eyes back and you can't help but to let a soft moan escape your lips. Baekhyun reaches down and starts to pump his hand around his big cock. He looks satisfied, nothing arouses him more than seeing you cry like this.
"Twist them"
You moan louder, it's difficult to contain your excitement as you feel your arousal coating your inner thighs.
"Good girl" he says with an evil smirk.
After a while, your body is red all over, complementing even better the matching sharpie.
"Now lay there you slut" Baekhyun says as he gets up the bed. You lay on your back and wait for further instructions.
Baekhyun gets on the bed over you and places himself at your entrance. Rubbing his tip against your slick folds.
"What a pitiful slut that you are getting this wet from being humiliated" he says smirking. And with that he violently pushes himself inside you in one go. You scream in absolute bliss, almost cumming to this one single thrust.
"Fuck, baby" Baekhyun moans.
He starts to move rapidly, you feel the familiar knot in your stomach form. He goes full force right away, making your fringe jump with each powerful thrust.
"Baby what are you?" he pants.
"I'm your slut daddy"
"Good girl" he says, grinding his teeth, rewarding you with more powerful thrusts and more overwhelming pleasure.
"You like daddy's thick cock don't you, slut?"
"Yes, I love your big cock daddy, it feels so good in my tiny cunt" You whine, feeling the knot getting tighter. The three nipple clamps jumping all over the place as Baekhyun fucks you deep and hard.
"No one can make you feel good like daddy, do you understand?" he says struggling, moaning in between each word.
"Yes only daddy's big cock" you bite your lip trying not to cum as Baekhyun hasn't granted you permission yet.
"Good girl. You are daddy's little slut. Daddy's toy. Daddy's personal cocksleeve. Nothing more. Your only purpose is to pleasure daddy and make him cum with your tight cunt." Baekhyun grunts, pushing himself deep and fast inside you.
The dirty talk is too much for you, you feel so good and the humiliation of being reduced to a mere object sends you over the edge. You scream and moan as your legs shake into an uncontrollable and divine orgasm, your sensitive little pussy deseperately twitching around Baekhyun's thick cock.
Your high hasn't even worn out yet that you feel Baekhyun's not-so-delicate hand slap your face. The burn in your cheek makes your eyes roll back as the setlling pleasure of your orgasm makes your mind go blank.
"I'm sorry daddy" you say half moaning, half sobbing, gagging on his slender digits.
"You slut, you came without daddy" he shoves his long fingers deep inside your throat. You instinctively suck on them as tears run down your cheeks again.
"You're such a bad girl" Baekhyun says, whipping his fingers out of your mouth to immediately pull harshly on your hair. You scream in both overwhelming pain and unbearable pleasure.
"Daddy I'm sorry" you say again, moaning as Baekhyun keeps on pounding into you, still pumping his fat cock in and out of you at an alarming speed. Stretching your tiny pussy beyond repair.
"Shut the fuck up slut" Baekhyun says as he repeatedly slaps you in the face, smudging the sharpie over with your tears. He picks up the pace again. Going even faster, destroying your pussy in the process. You moan in pleasure, feeling the knot tightening again.
"Daddy please slow down I'm going to cum again" you sob.
"I said shut up" he says clapping his hand over your mouth muffling your moans. Baekhyun has a really hard time containing himself. He feels like he's going to burst any second. As soon as he removes his hand you speak again.
"Daddy please I'm-" but you can't finish.
"Shut the fuck up I said you fucking bitch" he grunts.
Baekhyun circles his hands around your narrow neck. Pressing his fingers on your throat and your artery to keep the blood from reaching your brain. Finally, you are silenced, you can't speak anymore, not even moan. You can only concentrate on the immense pleasure Baekhyun makes you feel. He grunts loudly pumping in and out of your exhausted tiny cunt. You feel like the knot will come undone at any second now.
"That's it baby! You like when daddy chokes you, right baby? " Baekhyun says clenching his jaw.
Slowly your vision clouds up and you start to feel lightheaded. Like you are high on the most enjoyable and addicting drug: rough sex with your boyfriend Byun Baekhyun.
"I'm going to mark this cunt now baby. I'm going to make it all mine. I'm going to cum inside of you".
Seconds later, you feel thick ropes of cum painting your walls and filling you up as Baekhyun releases himself inside you with powerful thrusts. His hair is stuck to his forehead, he breathes heavily as he wears a relieved expression, his eyebrows deeply furrowed and his jaw lossely hanging open.
As you are about to pass out from too little oxygen, the delicious feeling of being pumped full of hot cum sends you over the edge and you reach the most blissful orgasm ever.
"Yeah that's it baby girl, cum for me, cum for daddy" Baekhyun says with a carnivorous smile.
Your legs shake all over as you see stars from being chocked. This sensation is a whole new level. Never in your life you felt something this intense. It's heaven. You ascended to heaven.
As Baekhyun slows down he releases his brusing grip around your neck, and you can finally gasp for air. As you catch your breath your vision comes back to normal and the high fades away.
Baekhyun collapses next to you, visibly exhausted and satisfied. You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his glistening chest. He starts stroking your hair.
"Baby?" he asks, hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"You... love me more, right? More than him..." he says timidly. You can't help but smile Athos sheepish expression. You look up at him amorously surprised by the the complete change in his attitude. There's no more anger in his eyes as he cutely pouts.
"No babe, I only love you. You are my one and only" you say softly kissing him. He looks back at you smiling before closing his eyes.
PARAPHILIA masterlist | General masterlist
#baekhyun fanfic#baekhyun smut#byun baekhyun#exo smut#baekhyun ff#baekhyun one shot#exo baekhyun#exo fanfic#kpop smut#smut#baekhyun x you#baekhyun x reader#kpop x reader#exo ff#exo imagine#exosnet
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"ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?" - ʜ.ᴏ
Hello to you! There it is! My first Harrison request. I'm working for a one shot with him, but it takes me so long because it's a little angst. But don't worry, this one is just fluff! I hope you'll all like it! I did not have time to be reread and corrected. So be indulgent once again, English is not my native language.
Summary: harrison met you in this coffe/bookstore where you friend worked. Since that day, he tried to ask you out but nothing really worked he would like. Until that day.
Word count: 2690
Warning: some of swear, spoilers of "one day" by David Nicholls"
Pairing : harrison osterfield
Request: yes!
You walked happily into the store, heading towards the counter where your best friend was. “The cup and feather” was a second home to you. The warm atmosphere that reigned in the bookstore/cafe has always seduced you. There was a peace of mind that relaxed your muscles: the woody decor, the warm and captivating light, the mixed smell of old/new books and coffee. You were leaning on the counter where Maya was completing an order for a regular.
“Good morning Luke! Enjoy your drink!” you said with a large smile.
“Hello dear y/n! Thanks sweetie! Let me know if you want to drink something. It’s on me”
“It won’t be necessary but thank you. I appreciate!”
The customer adds a generous 10-pound bill to the tip pot with a wink at you. Maya thanked Luke and then gave you a broken look. You gave her an amused smile, shaking your head, already anticipating her next line. But nothing could dissipate your good mood, your day was good.
"It's unbelievable how my tips increase when you're here. What's your secret?"
“Hello to you too, dear best friend. I don't have a secret...but maybe, try to be...nicer to customers? Give them a smile while you're taking their order! ”
“Hello honey. I’m so thankful you’re here. It’s a boring day”
It was a pretty quiet day, there weren't a lot of customers. The rather gloomy London weather seemed to have put them off. A huge thunderous sound echoed outside and Maya jumped. You had a sympathetic and somewhat amused smile. You liked the storm. To be honest, you liked the storm when you weren't alone: feel the heavy, electric atmosphere before the refreshing rain falls. She looked out the window with annoyance.
"Jesus. It looks like it's gonna be a long day" she complained
“Don’t be so dramatic! Let me help. How can I help you?”
“There is this book cart that I have to put away and that has been lying around for an hour. But my boss would kill me if he found out that someone who actually doesn’t work here, did it for me”
Maya gave you a knowing look. It wasn't that she hated you helping her with her work, on the contrary, you were quite useful to her. But she would have preferred that you spend your free time other than helping her. You took a few books from the cart, sticking your tongue out at your best friend and rushing down the aisles of the library section. The distinct sound of a heavy downpour was heard outside and a few seconds later, the store door opened to let in two young, but also handsome, men. Maya bit her lip as one of the individuals approached the counter with a polite but warm smile. He seemed tall, with a thin but toned build, thin lips, his blue eyes pierced her from the moment his eyes met hers; a fucking model.
"Hello. Do you mind if we stay a little while the downpour subsides?" he asked.
" Hell no, of course! You can stay as long as you want as long as I can admire you… uh, shit, no, as long as you order something… did I say the other part out loud?
The second boy laughed, but nothing mocking. He was shorter than the guy across from Maya, brown hair and chocolate eyes, muscular arms but not sculpted like a bodybuilder. He seemed in good shape.
The blonde raised his eyebrows, an amused smile on his lips.
"I'm afraid so. Um ... okay. Tom?" he turned to his friend "Do you want to drink something?"
"Black tea. A single sugar and a drop of milk."
Your friend nodded meaning she heard it and then she patiently waited for the blonde to place his order.
"I'll have mint tea. Just one sugar too."
"Noted! Feel free to go grab a book once you've settled in."
The blonde smiled at Maya as he turned slightly to the tables to settle in with his friend. You were immersed in reading a synopsis when you finally returned to the counter. You looked up too late while talking to your best friend.
"Hey, Maya can I keep - ouch"
You had just hit a rather solid chest and your eyes widened in surprise. Two hands grabbed your shoulders before the fall, stabilizing you on your two good. And thank you, handsome stranger because you would have been able to let yourself fall so as not to drop the book you were holding in your hands.
"Everything's alright, love?"
"Huh Huh" You barely said, still a little surprised by the impact.
He smiled at you and finally joined Tom at a table without giving you a chance to thank him. You leaned against the counter giving your best friend an indecipherable expression.
"Who are these guys?"
"I know, right?" Maya whispered, biting her lips again.
You smiled to her. You and your best friend had the same tastes when it came to boys. So it was no wonder that they found them attractive.You quickly gave a last look on the mysterious guy before focusing on the cart again. Your logic wanted you to go back and forth rather than pushing this wheeled machine. And deep down, it was also an excuse to admire the blond boy at the table 7. When you came back from your last trip down the aisles and there were no books left on the cart. You noticed with a sad expression on your face that both boys were gone. What did you expect? A romantic scene where love story is born in the aisles of a bookstore cafe. What's the point? You might not even have been his type. Correction: You were certainly not his type. Maya came over to you, a mischievous half-smile on her face.
"If you're wondering. His name is Harrison. I heard his friend call him. And he kindly tipped you 25 pounds."
"I don't work here."
"It's just like"
"I would probably never see him again, Maya"
"Believe me, I have a feeling that you will."
☙♡❧
And she was right. The following week did not bring the handsome stranger, the following week either. You had totally, or almost, forgotten this delicious abrupt encounter. You were in the aisles of the cafe, looking for the next book you were going to devour when you were politely tapped on the shoulder, a throat clearing accompanying the gesture.
"Hm, excuse me?"
You turned around and your eyes widened a little in surprise. You did not expect, or more, to see this beautiful stranger again. He was holding a book in his hands and looked nervous. His demeanor was endearing and you couldn't help but suppress a shy smile.
"Yes?"
"I'm looking to get my mom a book. I've heard of this one but ... I wanted your advice."
You raised an amused eyebrow. He wanted to buy a book from his mom and he went to a coffee shop to ask you for advice on a book he obviously couldn't buy here. You found this sweet and awkward. You gave him a shy and mischievous smile.
“You know you're not supposed to buy the books here… just read them. »You joked
"Hmm, yeah ... but ... I wanted your opinion since ..."
"I don't work here ..."
The surprise was read in his eyes as in yours but for different reasons. Harrison felt silly for asking you when you weren't an employee. You, you were surprised by your tone, which seemed so cold when it was not your intention. You didn’t want to be rude to him. In fact, he makes you a little bit uncomfortable. You had never been so awkward with a boy but, for some reason you didn't know, his piercing blue eyes bowled you over. You couldn't deny that you were drawn to him and there was something really spellbinding about Harrison. To catch up you glanced at the book, you wrinkled his nose and you scratched your head
“I'm sorry, this is not the kind of novel I read ... But if she read Fifty-shade of Grey ... this book might please her” you told him, somewhat embarrassed.
Harrison gave you a confused look and you pointed to the cover of the book. To be fair, although he won't admit it, Harrison had grabbed the first book he saw off the storage cart and it actually turned out that it was an erotic fiction rather categorized in the young adult, a bestseller. Honestly, you didn't know where to put yourself. You watched the cheeks of the boy in front of you turn deep red.
"Okay ... Okay. I wasn't there for my mom."
"No shame ..." you tried to comfort him
"No..no i swear. It..i'm … okay ...
A boy with curly hair appeared in the aisle, calling out to the young man, breaking that awkward moment between you at the same time. Harrison's friend seemed vaguely familiar to you, as if you knew him or seemed to know him.
"Harrison, we're late. Tom's gonna kill me, mate!"
Harrison gave a sigh of relief that he seemed to have held back. He gave you a sorry smile and apologized before leaving you, putting the book down on a shelf. They headed for the exit and you stayed there, without moving, still challenged by this moment. You heard a laugh that came from the curl without actually hearing the reason.
"Did you ask her advice about 365 DNI? What kind of div are you?"
"Shut up Harry."
And Harry's laugh echoed one more time before the door closed on them. After a few seconds, you returned to the counter where your best friend was. She nodded at you, as if asking like it had happened. You have to shake your head negatively while shrugging your shoulders. It was the most bizarre interaction you have had in your life. A total failure. With that, he was sure you would never see him again.
☙♡❧
But you were wrong again. You were, again and again, at the cafe. Maya was finishing her shift and you were sitting at a table with a book in your hand. You were in your own little world when your gaze was drawn to a male hand, wearing rings highlighting the veins of that said hand, placing a cup of latte on your table.
"I didn't order any-" you said before interrupting you.
Harrison was in front of you, a shy little smile drawn across his face. You frowned, intrigued. How had he guessed your favorite drink? A simple glance over the blond's shoulder told you your answer: Maya was smiling at you, thumbs up, as a token of encouragement. You looked Harrison, pursed your lips, flattered by the gesture.
“I wanted to apologize for the other time.” Harrison finally spoke.
“It's nothing ... I..I hope your mom liked the book.” you just told him with a little smile
"I… It wasn't for her."
"Oh..for whom?" you asked intrigued.
He smirked, amused by your carelessness. Was he not obvious, however? Since the day he met you, the actor hadn't stopped thinking about you. Tom and Harry kept telling him that he was completely whipped and looked like a fool.
"For no one actually. I grabbed the first book I found."
"But why?" you seemed more confused.
"I wanted to see you. It was a pretext… I didn't know how to approach you."
Your cheeks turned as red as Harrison's the last you met him. You were flattered but at the same time surprised to know that he was interested in you. You've replaced a strand of hair behind your ear, blushing. An awkward silence has settled between you two. Neither of them really knew how to break the ice. Harrison looked up at the book you had put on the table when he arrived.
"What do you read?" he asked interested
“One day by David Nicholls. It’s the one of the most moving books I have ever read.”
And you started talking for hours about how this book moved you and how Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess' portrayal in the film adaptation blew your mind. How you went from laughter to tears to anger. How you got attached to the characters in both the book and the movie. Harrison couldn't stop you. He admired you talking with passion and found you endearing. The way you spoke with your hands or the way you frowned when some character action disturbed you. You were in your world and he wanted to enter it.
"I hope we end up like them." He said, interrupting you.
You suddenly stopped in your monologue looking at Harrison puzzled. You didn't expect this. First, because by knowing the story of this novel. You didn't want anyone to experience people's stories, no matter how beautiful it was. Second, did Harrison just say he was considering something with you?
"Like who?" you asked
"Emma and Dexter ... I hope we have such a great story."
You pursed your lips, amused. You swallowed to keep from laughing and you shook your head. You were sure he didn't read the book but you wanted to play with him a little.
"I don't hope so."
"Why? Their love story is beautiful!"
"You haven't read this book have you?"
"Of course yes!" he defended himself, uncomfortable.
In truth, he was lying. He was trying to impress you. He had simply said he wanted to live this love affair to soften you and try to approach you to ask for a date. Once again, you smiled, genuinely amused by the boy in front of you. He looked so innocent and so confident in her walk. But you knew ... You knew he hadn't read the book.
"Harrison, she dies at the end"
Harrison's cheeks have once again turn red. He played with his hands nervously, embarrassed. He was an idiot, a complete fucking div. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to let go of all the stress he had accumulated but also to find a way to make up for it. You were blowing him outright. He thought you were so beautiful and had never been so awkward about approaching a girl. Of course, Harry had introduced him to his ex-girlfriend. But, the actor had never had a hard time flirting. He knew his strengths, he was kinda funny, can't deny he was pretty handsome, after all he was a model. He was also an actor, he could play all emotions, recite hundreds of lines of dialogue. But you looked different and he was unable to have a conversation with you without being ridiculous. You found that rather adorable.
"Okay, okay. I don't hope we end up like them."
“I hope you don't wait 20 years before asking me out?”
Harrison looked at you surprised. Did you really just reach out to her? Did he hear what you just said or did his imagination play a dirty trick on him? Her heart skipped a beat. You pursed your lips before putting on a warm but shy smile. You weren't that confident in normal times but ... but it was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You liked him, his clumsiness made you laugh and moved you a lot. You wanted to know him better. And with a simple smile, Harrison knew he had the green light.
"Would you ... have coffee with me?"
"I'm already taking one with you, idiot" you joked ...
"Yeah..hmm, okay ... um. Would you like to go on a date ... one day?"
Your smile widened. You didn't know if he had chosen his last words intentionally but you liked to think he had. And if it wasn't, that awkwardness had melted your heart. You bit your lip, a smile still on your face. Your cheeks were rosy with emotion. Eventually, you might have had your romantic story at a coffee shop / bookstore.
“Yes, Harrison. I would like to go out with you.
#harrison osterfield#harrison osterfield x reader#harrison osterfeild fluff#harrison osterfield writing#harrison osterfield x y/n#haz osterfield x reader#haz osterfield
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Phone Tag
Word count: 3512
Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”
Requested by @littlemisscare-all
A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️
Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood
Ring, Ring, Ring
The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.
You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you. You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.
You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.
He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?
“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.
When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.
It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.
So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.
Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?
He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,
You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.
Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.
As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..
Ring...Ring...Ri-
“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.
“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.
“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.
In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.
It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?
You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.
Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.
On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.
Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.
“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.
He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.
You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.
Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.
Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.
Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?
“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.
“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.
Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.
“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.
“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.
“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.
“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.” He moved to hang it back up.
“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.
“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.
“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.
“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.
“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.
“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.
“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.
“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.
“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.
“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed
#kelly nickels#la guns#L.A Guns#kellly nickels imagine#Kelly nickels headcanon#Kelly nickels fanfic#request
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In love there are two things– bodies and words
I didn't think I was going to write anything for Valentine's, because I just couldn't think of anything. But I wanted to put something out there, and since I've never written for James Lewis before... So have some James x F!reader fluff!
TW: Slight mention of canon alcoholism
James added another bullet-point to the board to keep his discussion of The Canterbury Tales on track as a student read their assigned excerpt in a gripping monotone. Finished, he turned around to look out over the room.
Subtle movements caught his eye, and he spied a note being passed beneath the desks toward the front of the class. He sighed quietly. Would they ever realize that he was even more aware of their shenanigans when he had nothing to do but watch and listen? He walked casually down the aisle until he was a couple of feet from a girl who took the note from the person behind her, and, reading the name on the front, smiled privately to herself.
“Anything to share with the rest of the class?”
The girl jumped, embarrassed, and shook her head as she hid the note in her lap. He wasn’t trying to be mean, and he certainly wasn’t going to read her love letter to the class, but he was quite frankly so very tired of the distraction running rampant in his classes.
“Mm-hm. Listen, if I catch anyone else not paying attention then all of you will be receiving an extra assignment, is that understood?” He directed the last part to the entire class, who now all avoided his eyes. Good.
He gestured for the student to keep reading, and returned to his spot behind his desk.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
He watched the students file out after the bell, nodding and smiling at those who acknowledged him. The second the room had emptied he allowed himself a moment to bury his head in his hands and squeeze his eyes shut. He was exhausted. The past couple of weeks had been trying to say the least: working over revisions with his editor had reignited his insecurities as a writer, which had done nothing to ease his AA sessions. Last week he had found himself staring at his old go-to liquor store for so long that the traffic light had turned green, and the car behind him had to honk to get his attention.
That day had been a toughie, to say the least. When he got home he quietly wrapped his arms around you until you walked him to the sofa, holding him close and stroking his hair. He was lucky to have you as his rock- even though you had made him stop saying he was “lucky” out loud, he still said it in his head.
One more class, and he could leave, he consoled himself. He looked out at the hall teeming with students, some holding single red roses. Really, how was he supposed to keep a room of hormonal teenagers engaged with Chaucer on Valentine’s of all days?
Something clicked in his head and suddenly it was like his every bodily function had frozen.
Valentine’s Day.
He picked up his phone and stared at the February 14 on his lock screen like a man staring at the date of his own execution.
How had he forgotten about Valentine’s Day? But it wasn’t like he had forgotten it, really, just that it had left as little impact on his otherwise-occupied mind than fucking Arbor Day. He had gone two straight years without acknowledging it, and even in his last year with Sarah their relationship had been so on the rocks that it had been a token gesture, if that.
But now he had truly fucked up. Wasn’t he supposed to be intelligent?
He knew what a crapshow last-minute Valentine’s plans were. Beginning to panic, he started by calling for a reservation at the first place you and James had ever dined out. Booked solid. He tried four more restaurants with the same result (one had even laughed at him).
He went through the motions of his last class mechanically, and all but bolted to his car. He checked his phone for local florists, and found them all closed for the day. Made sense. He drove to the more high-end grocery store in town, and found himself in a queue of other sad saps who were eyeing up the wilted remains of the floral section. The candy aisle was similarly wiped out.
He could probably search every grocery store and gift shop until nightfall and still find nothing better.
He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He decided that nothing at all was better than a thoughtless, rushed, half-assed gift. You didn’t deserve that from him. If only he was a half-way decent cook he might be able to make something work there. He would just have to apologize, and promise to make it up to you later.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Pulling up his driveway as the sun started to set, James tried to run through the words he would use to salvage this trainwreck. Some wordsmith he was. He got out of his car and slowly approached the door. He had almost reached the handle when the panic began to set in again. He should have gotten something. Idiot. He nearly turned back around when the sound of the television reached him from inside. It was from that cheesy sitcom the two of you had started watching together as a guilty pleasure. His heart swelled at the thought of putting his arm around your shoulder and laughing at the predictable gags together.
So he opened the door.
He found you on the sofa, your legs curled up on the seat and holding a bowl of cereal. It wasn’t far from dinner time, and neither of you were strict about eating your meals together with your sometimes clashing schedules. But he felt guilty to think that you hadn’t even expected to be treated to a fancy dinner tonight.
You turned your head to look up at him briefly. “Hey, sweetie,” you greeted him with a smile, before facing the TV again. He walked up to the back of the couch, hands fidgeting. His mouth refused to form words, so he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.
He was quiet for so long that you sensed something was up, and you turned a little.
“What’s wrong?” Concern laced your voice, too familiar with his bad days.
His voice was muffled in your neck. “I’m sorry, babe.”
You muted the TV. “Sorry for what?”
“IforgotaboutValentine’sDay.”
“What?”
James took a breath, bit the bullet: “I forgot about Valentine’s Day.”
“James-” you turned around so you were on your knees on the couch, hands reaching for his shoulders. “It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting anything.”
His eyes dropped guiltily. You really had lowered your expectations for him. Of course. You tilted his head back up to look at you, clearly desperate to reassure him.
“It’s just one stupid day. Y’know, a capitalist holiday designed to get people to waste their money…” You laughed, but James grimaced.
“That’s what single people and people with shitty boyfriends say.”
A silence followed for a few moments. He gulped, and looked away again. He was thinking of how he had mostly avoided the words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”. For a man his age, once a husband, to be a “boyfriend” was a kind of regression. Maybe he just wasn’t any good at this relationship thing.
“James.” You waited until he looked back up to continue, your tone now more serious.
“You are not a shitty boyfriend. I wasn’t expecting anything because I don’t need anything but you.”
Before he could make another negative retort you pulled him forward and kissed him, and you didn’t stop until you had him leaning part-way over the back of the couch. At this point you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him inelegantly over onto the seats, where he sprawled on top of you. You both laughed, and when you reached for the remote to presumably unmute the TV, he snatched it from your hands and turned it off instead.
He might not have flowers and candy and steak dinners to offer, but he still had a few ideas of how to make the night special
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Thank you for reading!
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