#I know this wouldn’t get to me if I hadn’t been born to two people who are fundamentally incompatible and doomed to fail but I waaas and it

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part three]

warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, physical harassment.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile devoice or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Reblog to support content creators!

Part One

Part Two

Epilogue

Hey guys, welcome to part three of this collaborated series with @deathmetalunicorn1! I am currently on break and won't be back until the 14th, but I figured that since I had recently finished this, might as well post it for everyone to enjoy! I will make a post when I come back, so no worries, I'm not going anywhere yet~!

On another note, please keep in mind that no bullying is tolerated on here. If there is, then this segment and the other chapters will be removed in its entirety.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what will happen in today's episode :)

Yoo Kyung-Mi had been born with beauty and was taught to use it to her advantage. Her mother knew what she was talking about. Why else did she remarry a wealthy man and make their lives so much easier? It was so much better than barely getting by on their own, trapped in a dingy apartment and worrying if there will be enough food money until the next paycheck. Kyung-Mi went to university, found work at a gaming company and subsequently, a shadow to use to elevate her reputation. A lackey really, but she preferred the term shadow. It sounded much nicer. 

Her shadow was another game designer; instead of being the literal, living example of a dowdy-looking office worker, her shadow wore nice clothes. She always treated everyone equally in their department, helped whenever she could with their next project and had a nasty temper when provoked. Yoo Kyung-Mi found this out the hard way when she borrowed a coworker’s proposal and presented it at the next meeting, elevating her status as the director in charge of Labyrinth of Love. Her shadow had the fucking nerve to show her the security footage of her being at that extra’s computer, downloading the sample from the desktop and storing it in a flashdrive. 

She tried to deny it, playing the cute card of forgetting to mention the extra as being a collaborator because she was so stressed about the meeting before telling the shadow to make sure to finish her proposal on time because time was money. And then the fucking bitch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall!  Her, the goddamned director! She could fire the shadow’s ass if she wanted to! This was workplace harassment! 

“You’re not the director yet, you idiot.” The shadow whispered in the shell of her ear. “That was an informal announcement, so you’re still an equal amongst us commoners. Honestly Kyung-Mi, when are you going to stop masquerading people’s creations as your own? I’ve told you back in university, during those seminars, that it would bite you in the ass. But you don’t listen.” 

“You wouldn’t be anywhere without me! You cannot live without me!” She spat. Then the shadow backed off, leaving the office as there hadn’t been a confrontation in the first place. Kyung-Mi didn’t know if the shadow was fucking mental or just didn’t give a shit about getting laid off….but she needed her shadow. It was her shadow’s creativity, like everyone else in the company, that helped MorpheusTech make millions from their products. Without them, there wouldn’t be any money. And Kyung-Mi wouldn’t have any ‘inspiration’ to elevate her status in the company. Tit for tat. 

On Monday morning, the shadow presented to the board with a game of her own. And everyone fucking loved it more than hers. Claimed that it was a breath of fresh air from the classic otome game formula. More interactions with the extra characters plus the main cast? And your choices will either boost the gamer’s stats like the Affection Meter, Morale, Reputation, or lower them? It would only be available on their digital store, and they could offer free demos to TubeTubers who have played their products in the past? Sold. The Labyrinth of Love was put on indefinite hiatus. Greenlight Fly Me To The Moon. Give her shadow everything she needs to make sure this project is a success. The company was counting on you, Kyung-Mi. Honored beauty. 

So she did. She stayed late at the office when it was past time for her to go home or go on a date. She missed her massage appointments, her precious Sundays had spent at home working on fine-tuning the game mechanics instead of shopping. Her toys started to lose interest in her. Yet she preserved because she was the heroine in this world and she would not lose.

But the final straw that broke the camel back had been all the shadow’s fault. 

Kyuing-Mi had been eyeing the gorgeous hunk Young-Min from Human Resources for a while. Tall, dark, and looked absolutely ripped in that three-piece Armani suit of his. Oh, did she mention that he was rich and super sweet? Well, now you know. When she had finally mustered the courage to approach him and confess her feelings for him (maybe use him to get rid of a certain someone), she found him with the shadow. He asked the shadow if they could get a cup of coffee later, averting his eyes and looking bashfully at the shadow. His face resembled a tomato when the shadow accepted the invitation, when the shadow smiled at him, and left to go on their break.

Honestly, the shadow should have realized that coveting someone who didn’t belong to her meant being bludgeoned from behind with a stapler. Kyung-Mi will admit that she did….she was a little angry. But if the shadow is dead, the villainess is dead, then that means she has finally everything. Not. She lost everything and got hit by a truck while crossing a busy intersection, desperately trying to search for a job before she lost her townhouse. 

Yet there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, right? Why else would she be here, possessing the heroine of Fly Me To The Moon, Cosette Lovelace? Sure, her character is supposed to be a gamer who got sucked into here and must clear it as a redeemed villainess, but where is the fun in that? All Kyung-Mi wanted to do was pursue after her bias, Sir Palamedes the second-in-command of the Holy Temple’s paladins. 

Of all the capture targets that were created in the shadow’s game, this is the one she had spent most of the time designing and writing both tragic and smutty endings with him. Thank God the shadow never knew that Sir Palamedes’ character concept looked exactly like Young-Min, from his mannerisms right down his little tic of fiddling with his hands when he was nervous.

Obsessed? No, she was observant, thank you. 

With the help of the Affection Level System, her own little playthrough guide, she was able to achieve the objectives needed to enter the Holy Temple of Aesir and unlock Sir Palamedes’ route. Everything was going smoothly until that damned extra, Harry or Harrow, had stopped her from staking her claim on Sir Palamedes. She threw something in her face, and she passed out on the floor. When she, Cosette, regained consciousness, it was almost nightfall. 

Swearing under her breath, she scrambled upright and smoothed out her grass stained skirts before all but running towards the cloisters leading back to her new private quarters. However, from seemingly out of nowhere, two older Sisters flanked her, blocking her path. She was about to turn up the innocent charm, claiming that she hadn’t meant to fall asleep under the tree with a cute  smile  when both of them wordlessly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled her into a cell. A fucking cell! Her! The heroine! 

She asked for food, and was given bread with water. When she was cold, she received a blanket and was left alone until morning. The same Sisters came back, grabbed her again and took her to the sanctuary. The pews were filled, every Brother and Sister was in attendance. The paladins circled around the altar. Her precious High Priest was there, and was her bias. So that fucking extra Harry. 

She frowned. “My flock, what is the meaning of this -” She didn’t get a chance to finish her question because a bolt of white-hot pain seared through her body. What in the world?! She looked down at the floor and there were runes under her feet, then glared back at the Sisters balefully. They had pushed her into a magic circle. How dare they do this to her?! 

Staggering to her feet, she turned her attention to the High Priest. “Father, why am I being subjected to this treatment? What have I done to you, to this congregation?!”  

“You dare to ask such a thing when the crimes against our Brothers and Sisters are so heinous that I cannot repeat them?” Harry said. She looked like shit, honestly, and she probably would look worse if she had that stupid blindfold removed. 

Yoo Kyung-Mi had never seen this character in the game, even in the demo trails….so why does Harry look so damned familiar? 

She watched Harry step forward from behind the altar, past the High Priest and Sir Palamedes. She walked down the steps, and stopped just a few feet away from the magic circle. 

“You know what you have done, Sister Esther. No…You are not worthy of being called a Sister of this Holy Temple. You are a heretic, a liar, and an adulterous beast who has dared to try and defile one of us by using an Asmodian Seed. Where and how did you acquire it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about-” That was when the pain began again. “You-” And again. Fuck, this hurts. It really hurts. 

“Please answer the question and do not try to be clever with your answers lest you actually enjoy being in pain.” Harry said peevishly. “You know what it is because you were the one who had implanted inside Sir Palamedes. Is this not true?” Harry raised her voice. “Were you affected by this wickedness, Sir Palamedes?”

Her precious bias nodded, his beautiful violet eyes hard and cold. “I was, Lady Harrowhark, and swear by the Oath of Fidelity that I was its intended victim. I dare not think what would have happened, if you had not been there to save me.”

“You heard him. Answer truthfully this time.”

So she did. She spat in the bitch’s face. “Allow me to ask you a question, Harry. Who the fuck are you to give me orders?”

Applauded gasps and murmurs bounced across the temple’s walls. One Sister fainted from hearing such profane language, having to be carried out by two of her closest Brothers. 

But Harry didn’t react. 

Instead, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes pockets and carefully wiped away the spit. Once she was done, she pocketed the dirty rag. Then she lifted her hands up and moved them to the back of her head, untying the mother-of-pearl cloth. She pulled it down, and two eyes that sparked like a pair of sapphires stared right at her.  Sapphires. Eyes. Cosette, Yoo Kyung-Mi, felt her heart drop into her stomach at seeing those eyes. 

The eyes that belonged to the shadow. The eyes Young-Min said were so beautiful that they took his breath away. 

“I am Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved. I am the Possessor of His Eyes -”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY?!?” Kyung-Mi screamed. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU HAVE THE GODDAMNED NERVE TO LEAVE A PIECE OF YOURSELF IN THIS GAME?!” 

“Heretic -”

“YES, I GAVE IT TO HIM! I GAVE SIR PALAMEDES THE ASOMEDIAN SEED BECAUSE I WANTED HIM! IF HE WERE DEFILED, HE WOULD HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MARRY ME, AND I WOULD FINALLY BEAT YOU! YOU WERE ALWAYS MY SHADOW! YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COVET WHAT WAS MINE, YET YOU KEPT TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, YOU BITCH?!” 

Harrowhark’s mouth closed, tightening into a thin line before she averted her gaze towards the choir pews, where three cloaked figures sat in silence. “Does this outburst suffice as a confession, Your Imperial Highness?” She asked them. 

The one on the right stood up, pulling back his hood and revealing himself to be, indeed, The Glorious Sun of the Helux Empire, Emperor Maximus IV. A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden hair and possessed one ruby eye. He had lost his left one in a war. That was all she knew about him. 

But seeing the  identities of his companions, once they pulled back their hoods, that brought Kyung-Mi’s muddled brain back to reality: her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Lovelace. Shit. Fuck. FUCK!

“It does. Words cannot express my anger and disgust at the thought that such a heinous crime would be enacted in the House of Aesir. Allow me, Your Holiness, to carry out her punishment here and now.”

Harrowhark frowned. “Your Imperial Highness -”

“I am already here, Your Holiness. And I have only exercised my royal authority once since I ascended to the throne twenty years ago. If it makes you uncomfortable to do it in the presence of the congregation, I am more than happy to privately announce these crimes in the palace’s interrogation chambers. It is your choice, Your Holiness.” He, the most powerful man in the Empire, lowered his head to Harrowhark. 

Harrowhark sighed. “I beseech you to not address me in such a manner Your Imperial Highness, nor to humble yourself in my presence. In the Holy Temple of Aesir, we are equal under His Eye. Please, raise your head.” The Emperor did. “In regards to the heretic…she must never darken the footsteps of these sacred grounds again, or anywhere else. What happens within the circle of nobility is no concern of mine. The church cannot be intertwined with matters of the state. We are from entirely different worlds, but we must work together to ensure that our people live in peace. Is this a satisfactory answer, Your Imperial Highness?” 

Kyung-Mi choked on her saliva. It would be awful to be separated from her bias, but to also have her silver spoon being taken from her too? She did not want to spend her second life struggling to make a living! She is supposed to be the most beloved person in this game! Everything is supposed to go her way, not Harry’s!

She watched in anxious anticipation as the Emperor, The High Priest, and her parents huddled together, speaking softly until they separated. The Viscount and Viscountess stepped to the side as the others stepped forward. 

The Head Priest glanced around the congregation, raising his arms as he spoke. “Cosette Lovelace, daughter of Viscount Lovelace. For your crimes and heresy against this most holy place, you are excommunicated from the Holy Temple of Aesir until the end of your days. May Aesir forgive you, because…in my heart, at this moment, I cannot bring myself to do so.”

He then stepped back, and the Emperor stepped forward. 

The Emperor inhaled a deep breath, closing his eye for a moment before addressing the congregation. As he did so, palace guards entered from opposite sides of the chapel near the altar. 

“I, Emperor Maximus IV, hereby use my authority in the Holy Temple of Aesir under the witness of all those in attendance. I condemn you to live the rest of your days in prison, in a cell with no windows. You tried to bring darkness to this sacred sanctuary, therefore, you will spend the rest of your days in darkness.” 

Kyung-Mi’s knees buckled, collapsing onto the carpeted floor as she stared at the Emperor in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! I’m the heroine! I’m supposed to live a life of luxury! I can’t go to jail!  When she saw her parents descend down the stairs, her anxiety slowly dissipated into hope. No. Not yet! They love me! They wouldn’t allow their only child to starve on the streets like a beggar or rot until she was an old hag, right?!

CRACK.

Kyung-Mi’s face stung from the slap she’d just received from her mother. Quivering, she touched the reddening cheek, peering through the curtain of her blue hair at her parents. Her mother was sobbing quietly, covering her face in her hands as her father wrapped his arm around his wife’s quivering shoulders. 

“You are no daughter of mine.” That was all he said before he left alongside his sobbing wife. They left her. They fucking abandoned her when she needed him the most, these….these bastards! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HER? WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO GO THE SHADOW’S WAY? IS IT SO AWFUL TO HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER OF HER OWN?!

Then she screamed. She screamed and kicked and cried as the Emperor’s guards tied ropes around her wrists, dragging her down the aisle, towards the doors. Kyung-Mi looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face as she stared at Sir Palamedes, hoping Young-Mi would understand she made a mistake and just wanted to be with him, please please save her. 

But he did not look at her with tenderness and devotion as he had in the demo version of the game. Sir Palamedes stood rigidly by Harrowhark’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and guarded. 

It was over. She had lost again. Fuck. FUCK!

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @amidst-the-tempest @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @yandere-dark-cupid @average-yandere-enjoyer @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @navierkalani

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #fem!reader #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw religious themes #cw religious themes #cw obsessive behavior #tw obsessive behavior #cw harassment #tw harassment #18+ mdni #mdni #minors do not interact #minors dont look #no minors please

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Follow Me Down

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)

A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.

He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.

“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.

You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.

“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.

You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you. 

“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.

You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.

Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.

“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”

He was disgusting. 

“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.

You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.

Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.

“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”

You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you. 

You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?

After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

“Robert-” you started to bark.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.

You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.

“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”

Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”

He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”

Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.

“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”

You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.

“What are you, twelve?” you asked. 

He just smiled. 

“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.

As you started to walk away, he called after you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.

Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level. 

You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.

This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.

You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.

Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.

“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.

You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about. 

“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.

“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.

It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.

“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.

You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.

Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.

“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.

Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.

“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”

Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.

“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”

“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”

“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”

You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.

“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”

“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.

“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”

Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.

“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.

You were taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.

You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”

Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.

“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.

Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.

Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder. 

“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest. 

The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.

“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar. 

The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.

“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”

You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.

“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.

You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.

“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”

You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.

“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”

“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.

You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well,  you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.

You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.

“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.

Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.

“On your back.”

He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.

You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.

“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.

Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.

You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.

Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him. 

When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.

“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?” 

You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.

“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?” 

Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.

“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”

“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.

“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.

He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.

Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg. 

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.

“Robert-”

You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Mm, say my name, baby.”

He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.

“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.

Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.

“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”

Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck," you gasped.

Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.

You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.

“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.

You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.

“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual. 

“Poor little rich boy.”

It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.

“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.

You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.

“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”

Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.

He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”

In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.

“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.

Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.

“In your dreams,” you muttered.

“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.

As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.

“There, was that so hard?”

Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.

“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”

You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.

“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”

You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.

“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered. 

“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”

He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”

His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.

“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”

His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.

“You- wish-”

Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper. 

“Fuck, Robert-!”

You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.

“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked. 

You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.

“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”

Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.

His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.

You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.

“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.

“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”

“Not… not inside,” you panted.

“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”

“Don't fucking come in me!”

Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.

Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.

Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.

You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.

“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”

You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.

Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”

You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.

“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed. 

Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

#robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #LemmyFics

[tsimvkas]

summertime friends — mason mount

A/N: hiya 🫶🏻 look who’s back!! so the chainsmokers released a song when they came to my country and it’s about andrew’s bazilian gf and y’all are brazilians in this one 🤭 i really hope you besties enjoy a bit of my culture.

word count: 14.4k | masterlist

content: brazilian!reader, sex, fluff, simp!mase

You knew it wouldn’t be easy when you accepted your boss' offer.

In twenty-two years, you never left Brasil. Born and raised there, you were comfortable with your culture and living with your family and you love your country’s weather, food and people. Is a nice place to live, most of the time. Culturally, it is a partying country with loving, caring, happy and passionate people.

And when you say passionate, you mean it. It doesn’t matter the subject — football, formula one, concerts, festivals. If your people love something, they love something. And this is what you miss the most.

And your family, the happiest people you know, makes you love Brazil even more.

With them, there’s a different confraternization every month. Carnival, Easter, Independence Day. Every holiday is a reason to have a big family lunch with barbecue and cake.

But you couldn’t lie. Moving to another country has been your dream for a long time now. Not only to another country — but to England. When your boss told you a job position was open in Manchester, it only took you two days to think about it and say yes.

Telling your mom hadn’t been easy, and your entire family was insecure about you diving into something so risky, but the decision had been made and deep down you know it was the right one.

And now that you’re living across the world, five months with no pão de queijo, brigadeiro or feijoada, you’re not that sure anymore. You were never the kind of girl to feel homesick, but apparently that was about to change.

“I think I need a drink tonight” you murmured to your computer, attracting Sid’s attention.

“Tough week?” she asked you with a smirk. You’ve been friends with her since day one, when you landed in Manny with nothing more than your suitcase and a dream and headed straight to the office, where they handled everything.

She works in the same place as you, and you love to spend time with her. It was relieving that you were able to make a friend so far away from home, that you’re not actually alone, even though it feels like it sometimes.

“A bit” you sighed. “Let’s go out tonight. I beg”

“Alright babe, we can have a few drinks. What is that that you're used to saying every Friday?”

“Sextou” you smiled. A few weeks ago you explained to her the meaning of sextar, a kind of verb created in Brazil to express happiness with the arrival of Friday.

“Sextou then” Sid chuckled. “Choose the club and let me know”

You did the rest of your work a bit happier, excited to go out with your friend.

“I texted you the address, see you at 9pm?” you smirked at her when you closed your laptop, ready to leave.

“Yes boss” she nodded before giggling. “But you’ll have to bring me one of those later, you know it takes a lot for me to go to clubs”

“I told you you were going to be addicted” you rolled your eyes playfully, wanting some brigadeiros as well. “With Brazilian ingredients they taste even better”

“Now you’ll have to order them in some Brazilian market and make me some. You’re just making your life more difficult” Sid smiled, getting up and kissing your cheek. “See you later”

“I promise we can have a cosy Friday another time” you smiled back at her and Sid made a silly little victory dance.

You were very lucky to have her.

—

You haven't had the chance to know a lot of clubs in Manchester yet, but from the ones you went to, this one is one of your favourites. You found Sid at the entry, giving her a kiss on each cheek. By now, she’s used to it.

“Nice outfit” she said, and you love how she’s always boosting your self-esteem.

You were feeling a bit patriotic today, so your black cropped with the Brazilian flag and cargos was the obvious choice. Combined to your white Nike’s, you were comfortable and feeling beautiful.

You loved going out with Sid, because she is from the comfortable, but pretty, team as well, and you never felt badly dressed around her.

“I loved yours too” you smiled at her. She was also wearing cargos, a bodysuit and a pair of Nike’s, and in your opinion she seemed even more badass with simple outfits.

You made your way inside the club, you and Sid taking the first drink of the night. It was hot inside and soon you were drinking your second glass.

After a few drinks and some songs, a guy approached you and started a conversation. He seemed nice and the topics of his talks entertained you and Sid, so you kept it going. Between dances and drinks you felt happy enough to forget how much you missed home, distracted by your fried and the man talking with you.

“Wanna leave with me tonight?” he whispered in your ear about an hour after he started talking with you. “Don’t need to be right now though…”

You did your best not to roll your eyes and smiled ironically, realising he said the last part when a girl passed by both of you.

“I’ll check with my bestie and let you know” you lied, knowing damn well you wouldn’t leave with him.

“Fine” the man smiled confidently, and you didn’t like the coky tone of his voice. “I’ll be right back then, just need to use the restroom”

When excused himself, you and Sid went to the back of the bar to ask for another round of drinks. You were chatting with her after taking your tequila shot, talking about how that guy obviously went after the girl who passed by you despite him just asking you to leave with him, when someone rested their hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” the male voice in your ear gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t see his face perfectly due to the flashing lights, but you nodded anyway.

You wouldn’t deny a drink on a night like this. He quickly asked something to the barman, and you had no idea what drink he would chose to give you.

“So” the man started, giving you the glass you just saw the barman delivering to him. “Nice cropped. You’re from Brazil?”

“Yes. And you’re from here, I’ll assume by your accent” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink and widening your eyes in surprise. It was really, really good.

“Yes” he chuckled, proud of the satisfaction expression in your face. “How’d you get here?”

“I’ve accepted a job offer. The company I worked in Brazil had a position here and my boss thought I was good enough to make it”

“I agree with your boss, and I’m glad you accepted the offer, hm…” he paused, not knowing your name yet.

“Y/N” you introduced yourself. “And thank you…”

“Tony”

“In my country, this is the name of old men” you smirked, finishing your drink. It was a really hot night.

“I’m not an old man, I promise” you could hear him giggling.

“I couldn’t tell with all these lights, honestly. My myopia isn’t helping me either” you giggled. “Oh, this is my friend, Sid” you introduced your bestie, who was dancing beside you.

Sid finally looked at who you were talking with and sucked in a breath before greeting him. “This is Tony, Sid.”

Tony laughed, and the sound of his laugh made your heart skip a beat.

“Hi Sid, nice to meet you. Can I buy you a drink as well?” he asked nicely, and your friend nodded, seeming a bit shocked. You were almost asking her what was wrong when Tony called your attention again. “So you just accepted a man’s offer without seeing his face?”

“I mean… It's a hot night. I couldn’t say no to you, could I?” you smiled shyly. Tony’s phrase reminded you of how you mom would always say ‘don’t accept anything from strangers’ and there you were, accepting things from strangers in another country.

He laughed, and for some reason you felt proud to be the one making him laugh. “No, you couldn’t. I’m more than happy to give you another one, then”

“So, why are you offering drinks to me?” you asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I liked you” Tony shrugged. “You’re pretty, and I liked the way you were dancing. I kinda hoped I could ask you out, but I’m pretty sure someone was faster than me. I saw him talking to you”

“Oh, this is sad” you joked, suddenly remembering the man that went to the restroom and never came back. At this point, Sid’s grip on your forearm was beginning to hurt you. “You should’ve talked to me earlier”

“I was nervous about it”

“Well…”

“I know, I know. I deserve to see you leaving with him” he had a pout on his lips, which made you laugh. Hasn't he noticed that the man who ‘asked you out’ disappeared?

“Don’t be so tough on yourself” you smiled.

“Another one?” he asked you, pointing to your empty glass. At this moment, the club’s light dimmed a bit and your breath hitched in your throat. The eyes, the nose. The hair. You would’ve recognised this man anywhere.

Well, anywhere without such strong lights.

“Oh yes” you chuckled. Or choked? You don’t really know. “Uhm, I just need to talk to my friend for a minute”

Mason nodded sheepishly, and you almost screamed. Turning your back to him, you faced Sid with utter panic in your eyes.

“Oh my God” you whispered, trying your best to not make a scene. It’s just a famous footballer, who happens to be one of your biggest crushes, buying you drinks. It happens everyday, right?

“I know” Sid whispered back, reading your mind. “He’s right there”

“Why didn't you tell me?” you continued to whisper, taking deep breaths to calm your mind. You and your friend gave Mason a quick side eye, that he obviously saw. “What should I do?”

“Keep accepting his drinks? Talk with him for the rest of the night? Press him on the counter and kiss him senseless?” Sid practically started daydreaming.

“Sid…”

“Those kinds of things only happen once, Y/N” she interrupted you. “Just go back and play his game”

“Ugh” you groaned at her. “I don’t want to make you a third wheel or something”

“As long as he’s buying me drinks too, that’s ok” she whispered one last time before turning you to face Mason Mount.

You swallowed the gulp in your throat before smiling at him.

“Hello, you’re back” he giggled, making your legs turn into jelly. You took a deep breath and put your phone on the counter, accepting the glass he gave you.

Smirking at you, he pulled his phone in front of yours over the counter, grateful for the new iOS function. You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure if he could see it, but saved his number.

“I think it was love at first sight” Mason finally spoke again. “When I saw you dancing”

“Love doesn't exist, silly” you rolled your eyes at him, momentarily forgetting who he was.

“You really think like this or you’re just dumping me?” he sounded a bit insecure and you felt giddy inside. How could this man think anyone on earth would dump him?

Your eyes went down his body, and you took a sip of your drink before responding. “What do you want, Mason Mount?”

“Oh, so you know me” Mason chuckled. “To be honest, I want you to leave with me, but since someone asked you first, then I’ll enjoy my time whilst he don’t come back”

“He won’t come back. I’m pretty sure he ghosted me”

“I bet he will. With a terrible excuse, by the way. Men, you know…” he shrugged.

“Do you think we could dance until then?” you asked him, suddenly not feeling nervous anymore. He was Mason Mount, yes, but he made you so comfortable that all you could do was see him as a normal person, like you.

And besides him being him, Mason Mount wanted you to leave with him tonight. You’re not stupid, you deserve at least a dance.

Mason smiled at you, holding you by your waist. “She’ll be right back” he whispered to Sid, taking you to the floor dance.

The song had a happy beat and most of the people were screaming the lyrics, but he kept your back pressed against his chest, mirroring your movements. When a Brazilian funk started, you teached him how to dance it, and Mason never laughed so much before, his hands on his knees whilst he was trying to copy your movements, moving his hips.

After three or four songs, you came back to the balcony in the back of the bar and his hands were still in your waist as you didn’t push him back.

“Can’t believe you made him twerk” Sid had a shocked face, and you smiled at her.

“Things like this only happen once, right?” you murmured.

Mason asked for a bottle of water for you, and you rested your body against his. “So” he breathed in your neck, brushing his lips in your skin. “I need to know if you really think love doesn’t exist”

You were taken aback by his question, not expecting it at all. He just met you, and you didn’t think your statement about love would be important to him.

“I think that it might exist, yes” you shrugged, trying to think of a coherent answer while dealing with his lips on your shoulders. “I used to believe it did, but then… I mean, if it does exist, then it doesn’t last long”

“Somebody hurt you?” he rested his face on your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Don’t you think this is too much information to share on a first day?” you try not to sound rude, so you intertwined your fingers with his to show you weren’t mad about the question.

“Sorry” he smiled shyly. “I just feel like I know you for years”

Indeed, it felt like the pair of you knew each other for more than just one night. You had to keep reminding yourself you only know him for an hour, even though you know the public version of him.

“Yeah, somebody hurt me” you admitted.

“Their loss” Mason smiled, pecking your cheek. He made you feel like the pair of you were already into something, acting all touchy and gentle. You have no idea how he’s not scared or worried about reaching out to you when he’s a public person and you could be just someone interested in his money and fame.

You’re not, but he has no way of knowing this.

The guy, who you couldn’t even remember the name, chose this moment to indeed come back and Mason pouted at you. “I know you’re leaving with him” he murmured. “But can we dance to the last one?”

“I’ll dance with my friend” you said to the guy with a smile, not really liking the look he gave. What he expected you to say after he spent an hour ‘in the restroom’? “With my friend Tony and with my friend Sid” you changed your tone so Sid would understand you wanted her to come with you.

The guy — you think his name is Luke, rolled his eyes and sat close to the balcony, like he would wait for you, so when the three of you were in the middle of the dance floor, you brushed your lips against Mason’s ear. “Get us out of here, please”

Mason smirked, taking you by hand as you took Sid’s hand in yours, and walking to the exit whilst messaging Rashford with his free hand. Outside the club, he walked to the biggest car you’ve ever seen and opened the door for you both, helping you and Sid to get in.

“Do you feel okay enough to drive?” you asked him when he settled himself behind the wheel.

“Yes ma’am. We’ll just wait for Rashy so we can decide what to do now” he blinked at you.

Once Marcus finally appeared, the four of you decided where to go.

“I think we need an after party” he smiled. “Like, go really crazy and that stuff. You know you just interrupted me right now”

“Gross” Mason rolled his eyes before shrugging. “Well, we’re on our vacation… it will take us an entire season to be allowed to drink like this again”

“Alright then, let’s drink”

Mason adjusted his seatbelt and Marcus searched for somewhere to go, contacting friends.

“Are you drunk enough to crash a party?” Marcus grinned, raising an eyebrow to Mason. The way he started the engine had your tummy fluttering, and you felt a bit ashamed of the things you thought.

“Whose party?” he cocked an eyebrow back at Rashford.

“A Man City one” was the answer, and you looked at Sid to confirm you heard right.

The car stayed in silence for two seconds before Mason cackled.

“Let’s do it” he said with a cocky tone, speeding up the car and following Marcus’ instructions.

You know Mason shouldn’t be driving after drinking and you shouldn’t be drunk in a stranger’s car but you couldn’t deny that you were excited to do whatever the four of you were about to do.

“I have something to ask you” you held Mason’s seat, getting closer to his face.

“Anything”

“We’ll take an Uber to come back from the party. You drink a lot already and it’ll be worse by the end of the night”

“Really?” he smirked. “You saw me drinking?”

You took a moment to think. “No, but Rashford asked-”

“I have a drunk spirit” he whispered, smiling. “I’m always drunk enough, cause I don’t need to be drunk. You’ll know I had a few drinks when you see my ‘few drinks version’, I promise. And I would never drive if I want to get drunk” he looked at you through the car’s mirror and you nodded.

“It’s there” Marcus screamed, excitedly pointing to a club’s entry and making the three of you laugh.

Mason parked in front of it, and an employee quickly came to manoeuvre his car. Giving him the keys, Mason helped you and Sid to get out of the huge car, and the four of you stared at the club.

“So, what do we do now?”

“We enter” Sid shrugged. “We just need to act like we’re supposed to be here. And you two, don’t look him directly in the eyes. He’ll recognise you and know you’re little tiny Red Devils trying to make a mess”

“You sounded like a Brazilian right now” you giggled, and Mason frowned at you.

“She just called us little and tiny?”

Without even hearing Mason, she grabbed Marcus’ arm and walked to the security guard. “Sorry sir.” the man stopped Marcus. “We are closed to a private party tonight”

“I know that” Marcus smiled.

“Your name is on the list?” the guard asked, holding a tablet with, probably, the list on it.

“I don’t need a name on the list” Mason snorted, and you tried not to laugh.

“I can’t let you enter if your name isn’t on the list” the man looked at Mason. “I’m sorry”

“Do you know who are they?” you entered the conversation, taking Mason by hand and walking to look into the security guard's eyes. He seemed pretty young for his job and you thought you could put some pressure on him. “They own City Football Club”

“I don’t think so” he played it cool but you could see his eyes widening.

“Look… Carl” you read the name on his badge. “They’re like a father to City”

“There are controversies” Sid giggled, and Marcus left an indignant sight.

“But you all look so young” Carl frowned.

“Thank you” you smiled. “Now, if you don’t let us in to celebrate Ederson’s birthday, he’ll be really pissed” you bit your lower lip with a false concern.

“How do you know that-” Mason tried to say, but you elbowed him.

“Sorry, ma’am” Carl gulped, taking a step aside and smiling shyly. “Now your top makes sense”

“It does?” Rashford seemed confusingly drunk.

“She’s wearing the Brazilian flag because Ederson is Brazilian”

“That’s correct, Carl! Have a good night” you smiled at him, pulling Mason inside and hoping Sid would do the same with Marcus before they both could talk anything else.

“What was that?” Mason gasped when you both were out of the guard’s view.

“They call it ‘Brazilian way’, a talent most of us were born with” you proudly smirked. “In essence, is about how we make all relationships personal ones, breaking with the social rules that should apply to everyone”

“Nice” Mason laughed, shaking his head in the rhythm of the music. Marcus and Sid joined the pair of you, and Rashford started to awkwardly dance.

“One thing about City that we can’t deny — they know how to party” he kept dancing and Mason rolled his eyes.

“Well, after so many years partying it’s practically an obligation for them to know” Sid shrugged and you nodded.

Mason giggled when Rodri passed by the four of you without noticing anything weird. “Should we stay unnoticed?”

Before you could say anything, Marcus made his decision.

“Good night guys, sleep well” he started to scream whilst walking to the exit pretending to leave, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “It was a great night, I loved it”

“Drinks were incredible as always” Mason followed his friend's steps. “You guys really know how to party”

“What the hell?” Grealish was the first one to get up and walk in their direction. “I’m not that drunk, right? I’m not seeing ghosts yet”

“Yet?” Mason burst into laughter. “Do you see ghosts often?”

“What the fuck are you two doing here” Phil giggled, approaching the four of you and clapping his mates’ hands.

“And the bastards even brought company” Dias got closer. “Why are you at a City party? Thought about joining us?”

“We were bored, and where Jack is, there’s also alcohol” Mason rolled his eyes playfully. “This is Y/N and Sid”

“Nice to meet you, girls” Ruben smiled, shaking hands with both of you. When he held yours for more than a moment, Mason slapped his arm. “Ouch?”

“Take your hands off of her” he tried to say it playfully, but the tone of his voice went a bit huskier than he intended to.

“Oh, I see. Your girl?” Rubens chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Not yet” he smirked, making you choke in silence.

“She’s too much for you” Jack teased, receiving a slap as well. “Stop doing this”

They started a fake fight, and you held back the desire to record it.

“Hey!” Stones suddenly screamed. “Bring your drunk asses back here”

“I’m not drunk” Mason screamed back.

It was nice to see him around his friends, so comfortable and… normal. Nothing like a famous footballer. It reminded you about you and your own friends, teasing each other, getting drunk together, being loud and silly.

“Nobody asked you” Foden slapped his head and you chuckled.

“Saw something funny?” Mason smiled at you, walking towards you to tickle your waist.

You started to laugh before he even touched you. “Oh no, don’t do this” you tried to dodge. “I’ll probably laugh so loud and it’ll be embarrassing”

“Are you encouraging me?” he grinned, reaching out to you and tickling your body.

You tried to choose between breathing or speaking while laughing, slapping his shoulders in an attempt to make him stop.

“Alright let them love each other, you two come with me” Jack talked to Sid and Rashy. “We have the best alcohol in the world”

“You could say, since you already had alcohol in every corner of the planet” Ruben teased him.

He laughed, finishing his beer. “You can’t blame me, I’m a taster”

When Mason finally stopped, he guided you to where Stone was, holding you against his chest once you got there and Sid came to your side with a drink, offering to you. “Jack was right, it’s the best alcohol in the world” she giggled. “And it’s pink!”

The four of you had a lot of fun, dancing and drinking till late. Mason really stayed the whole night without drinking alcohol, so you kept bringing different juices flavours to him, and he would drink them all and rate from the ones he liked to the ones he hated.

Every time you would come back to him with a new glass, Mason felt his heart warm at the fact you kept remembering he wasn’t drinking alcohol, and he couldn’t help but smile when you asked him how good each flavour was.

He doesn't know how to explain the instant connection he felt with you, but you seemed so pure hearted, gentle, caring and bright, and since the moment he saw you dancing he started to think that this is exactly the type of people he wants around. The type of woman he wants to wake up next to.

After two hours drinking more than he could take, Marcus gave up. “I’m starving man, I need to sleep” he mumbled at his friend when you were giving mango juice in Mason’s mouth, his hands in your waist. “Wow, this is disgustingly adorable. I wanna throw up”

You and Sid laughed at the way he was speaking, seeming like he was about to fall asleep any moment.

“I think we’re good to go, Mase” you smiled at him, staring at his tired eyes. He seemed happy, but exhausted. You smiled when he licked his lips clean. “Good one?”

“Yeah” he murmured. “Do you wanna eat something?” he asked gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“McDonald’s” Marcus quickly interrupted, desperate to eat, and Sid nodded when Mason looked at her.

“I bet you wanna go to Maccies” you teased as he looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“But he won’t go if you say no so please, say yes” Rashford gave you his best pout, and you smiled.

“McDonald’s seems pretty good” you laughed, waiting for the boys to say their goodbyes and following them to Mase’s car.

You and Sid went to the backseat and both of you spent the ride gushing and gossiping, whilst Mason and Rashford talked about something. If you stayed quiet for a second, you would’ve known he was talking about you.

On the line for the Drive Thru, Mason turned to ask what you and Sid wanted and, and after ordering and paying he parked in the empty parking lot.

The four of you ate between laughs and jokes, and it felt nice. You wished you could have moments like this all the time.

“I need to use the restroom before we go” Sid told you, asking Mason to unlock the car.

“I’ll go with you so you don’t walk through the parking lot alone” Marcus offered, leaving only you and Mason in the car.

“So…” you started, a bit nervous about being alone with him.

“The only male pout that can make you accept something it’s mine” he turned to look at you. “Got it?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, finding it funny. “Alright, sir. Anything else?”

“For now, we’re good” he blew you a kiss.

You could still feel the alcohol in your system whilst you stared at him for a few seconds, not even realising when your body leaned in his direction. Mason turned his face even more in your direction and you held on to his seat, your right hand went to cup his face. You brushed his lower lip with the pad of your thumb, and Mason smiled.

“They need to come back before I do something dumb” you murmured, so close to his face that your nose was almost touching his.

“Something dumb? What do you want to do?” he smiled cockily, so close that his breath hit your face.

You kissed his nose, and Mason closed his eyes.

Squeezing your body between the space of the two front seats, you held his face with both hands and kissed his forehead. Then his eyebrows, his eyelids, his cheeks and his chin.

“Why are you teasing me?” he murmured, not wanting to break the atmosphere.

“It’s funny. Right now you don’t look like the man flirting with me in the bar” you continued to tease.

Mason opened his eyes, staring at you for a few seconds before pecking your lips. “Are you sure of it?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against his and leaning closer to him in the exact moment Marcus opened the car’s door to Sid with more strength than it was necessary, scaring you both.

She tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at you whilst Rashford helped her get into the car. He closed the door for her, and the three of you silently waited for him to get in.

“Ugh, I need my pillow” he groaned, oblivious to the tension. “And a lot of sleep”

“Seatbelt” Mason asked him, and his voice sounded low key grumpy.

You gave Mason your address, and soon he was in your front porch line.

“Thank you guys, have a good night” Sid waved at them, unlocking the door and jumping out. You could tell she was ready for a good gossiping session.

“Good night Sid” Mason smiled at her, and Marcus rolled down the car window to mess up her hair.

“Good night” you smiled, tucking your face between the front seats and kissing Mason’s cheek. “Thank you for tonight”

“I’m the thankful one, Y/N” he smiled sheepishly, apparently forgetting how angry he was at Marcus and Sid for interrupting both of you.

“And where’s my kiss?” Marcus said playfully, making you laugh.

You were about to join in his joke when Mason held your wrist. “Don’t even think about it” he said.

“Sorry, Marcus” you cackled.

“What a jealousy prick” Rashford shook his head. “Good night, Y/N. Hope we see you soon”

You jumped out of the car, closing the door and waving at them through Marcus’ window.

Mason waited for the pair of you to enter the house before leaving, and as soon as you locked the door you and Sid started to scream.

“He’s so adorable” you whined.

“So, you were about to kiss him when we got back?”

“I think so?” you pouted, heading with her to your bedroom. “He’s so cute. And sometimes he’s a bit cocky but he’s always so sweet”

Both of you changed into comfy pyjamas and Sid jumped in your bed.

“I was going to tease you about meeting him today and already falling but he’s Mason Mount, you’ve probably fallen for him a long ago” she smirked, tickling you when you laid by her side.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Shut up Sid”

—

“Dec, I think I love her” Mason sighed for the hundredth time on the call.

He dropped Marcus at his before calling Declan to tell him every detail of what happened tonight.

“Bro” Declan laughed at his desperate friend. “You just met”

“In person, yes. But our souls were connected way before tonight” Mason whined, remembering your smile, the way you chose different juices for him, how you ate your fries drowning them on ice cream.

“Oh my Jesus” Declan screamed through the phone, waking up Kai and laughing even harder. “What the hell is this?”

“You’ll see… we’ll get married in some beach in Brazil, I’ll drink coconut water for the rest of my life and my daughter will call me ‘papai’, buddy”

“And you’ll learn Spanish” Kai murmured, only hearing the last part. He could be irritated because he was woken up, but he missed Mason’s voice. And he would never tell anyone that.

“Are you dumb? They speak Portuguese, like Portugal” Mason smiled proudly, even though they couldn’t see. “I searched while we waited for the hundredth shot of the night. Hi Kai”

“Hi big Mase. So you’re almost dating, huh?”

“Shut up, you’ll make his delusional ass go crazier. You’re already searching for things about Brazil?” Declan teased him.

“I want her to know I care” Mason replied, finally getting home. He quickly parked and got inside, ready for sleep as much as he could.

“Mason… you haven’t even kissed her, mate” Declan tried not to laugh.

“But I’ll” he said, confident.

“For God's sake” Kai blurted out with a muffled voice against the pillow and Mason giggled at his friend's reaction, but his faith was unshakable.

He felt so confident about you. He saw in your eyes, the way you shivered at his touch and how you looked at him.

Things he would never tell Declan or Kai, of course. First, he doesn't want to hear the tease, and second, they wouldn’t understand.

“Right. Now go to bed” Dec instructed. “You need to rest”

“Why is Kai with you?” he tried not to sound jealous. And he failed.

“Coincidentally, we came to sign the contract on the same day and they put us into the same hotel room” he cackled. “We’re besties now”

“Don’t be jealous, Mase” Kai teased.

“Why would I? I have Y/N now” Mason hummed.

“You see? He already forgot us” Declan accused him. “Fine, now go to bed. You have to take your United pictures tomorrow”

“How do you know that?” Kai asked Rice, and Mason tried not to laugh.

“Don’t need to be jealous, Kai” Mason teased him back, obeying them and taking off his clothes before tucking himself in his bed.

“Shut up” Havertz snorted, making both Dec and him laugh.

“Ugh” Mason complained. “So boring sleeping with you two on the phone after meeting the love of my life”

“C’mon Mason, shut up” his Arsenal boys laughed. “I hope you’re already tucked in bed”

“I am, sir. Rice. Just looking for her number so I can say hello” he bit a smile, even though no one could see him.

“Are you going to text her now?” Declan sighed in disbelief.

“I’m just saying good night. You’re so boring, Dec. I’ll remember this when you ask me to be my little girls’ godparent”

“Which team does she support?” Kai suddenly asked. “The love of your life, I mean” and Mason knew he was rolling his eyes.

“We didn’t mention football”

It seems egocentric to mention his job on the first night, especially because he’s used to everyone knowing who he is, so there’s no reason to talk about football.

“It’ll be funny if she turns out to be a City or Liverpool fan” Kai mocked. “I hope she’s a City girl”

“She’s Brazilian. I don’t think she loves an England team with her soul, so we’re out of trouble” Mount said, trying to sound indifferent.

“You’d be surprised, the Prem is pretty famous there”

“How do you know that?” Mason frowned.

“If I was you, I’d hope she’s not a big fan of the team we destroyed at the Club World Cup” Kai giggled, ignoring the question. “Or the one that beat up Chelsea a decade ago”

“Did you know that their goalkeeper is still a current player?” Declan commented. “How is that possible, they don’t get old?”

These two will drive him crazy.

“You’ve been doing your research as well, uh?” Mason teased.

“I'm the Sebastian Vettel of football, I know everything” Rice said with a cocky tone.

Forgetting his friends on the phone for a moment, he texted you.

Mason thought it was cute how you misspelt the word ‘too’, probably because too and two can have the same sound to a non native speaker.

He wouldn’t correct you though. If the pair of you were speaking, it was only because you learned his language. And if he got what you meant, then it was all that matters.

“Alright” Mason yawned. “Sleep well you two”

“You texted her?” the most gossiping man in the world asked.

“Yes, Declan. She’s probably sleeping, won’t reply now” he lied. He loves his friends, but he wanted to keep your silly little conversation only to him. “Talk to you tomorrow”

“Good night Mase” Kai groaned, turning around ready to sleep again.

“And good luck with your girl” Dec teased.

He wouldn’t be nothing without his boys.

—

Living in Manchester for about six months now, you made some friends. Most of them are from work, some of them from the clubs you and Sid like to go.

Your life has been really good. You like the tiny house the company got for you, the coffee shop you visit every morning, the chance to speak a language you like a lot.

And the guy you met a month ago.

You and Mason text almost everyday. He’s a sweet guy, and you always feel a bit giddy when talking with him.

His season started and he was really excited about it, so you felt awful to know he got injured only in his second game. He seems so full of life, and picturing him without his bright spirit for being unable to play made you so fucking sad.

In one of your conversations he said to you that the worst part about injuries, besides being away from the pitch, was that he felt lonely. His friends were training, playing games, travelling for the away ones… and he only had physio. Physio, physio and physio.

Since then, you tried to talk with him every time you could, about the most nonsense stuff. You’d ask about the physio, always, but so about what he ate that day, his favourite places around the world, the favourite games he played. And he’d ask about you, and your country, something you love to talk about.

Sid blurted out about it in the office one day, and your new friends didn't like the news that much. Maybe because they were all City fans? But one of them seemed really upset about it.

“He’s not a good guy” Nick said. “He looks like a good guy but I’m sure he’s rude, ignorant, selfish and violent”

“I mean, he can be violent with me if he wants to-” you said automatically, and Sid bursted into laughter.

“Gross, Y/N” Nick complained, rolling his eyes. “Be careful with him”

“Sure, Nick. Don’t worry” you smiled politely before saying goodbye and leaving with Sid.

“Well, he’s definitely into you” she chuckled.

“What? Nick?” you frowned. “This is a weird way to demonstrate”

“Or he’s just a massive hater of Mason” she shrugged.

The thought made your stomach churn. How could anyone hate Mason? He’s such a good person, all smiley and friendly.

“Speaking of him…” you smirked when your phone buzzed.

“What?”

You smiled shyly, showing Sid his texts.

“Go home and get ready” you said to her. “I’ll pick you up and we can have McDonald’s on our way to Old Trafford”

Sid didn’t even questioned, nodding at you before you both went into separate ways.

You hurried home and took a quick shower, wearing a basic all black outfit and heading to Sid’s home, and soon the pair of you were eating Maccies, giggling and gushing about the game whilst you drove there.

—

He did win the game.

Mason didn’t play the entire match, but his first half was incredible and he even assisted Casemiro.

“Casemiro is Brazilian so Mason def did this to you” Sid said jokingly. “Being delulu is the solulu, you know”

You rolled your eyes at her, texting Mase to let him know that you were leaving. He wouldn’t be able to see you now, anyways.

When you were leaving the stadium, your phone started ringing with an upcoming call from him. “Um, hello?” you said apprehensively.

“Why are you leaving so soon?”

“I’ll wake up really early tomorrow” you giggled. “But I heard you’re playing again this Saturday, uh? Am I invited to this one?”

“You’re invited to every single ga-ame” he hummed, making your heart skip a beat. “I’ll send you the tickets for Saturday”

“You were amazing tonight. I swear, you were everywhere on that pitch” you took the opportunity to praise him. He was indeed an incredible player and you felt like telling him that.

“Oh he’s blushing” you heard Rashy in the background and for some reason you blushed too.

What the hell are you doing with your life, honestly?

“Shut up” Mason murmured to him. “Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. See you soon, uh? Drive sa-afe” he hummed again before disconnecting the call, and you felt your heart melting. What a cutie kiddo he can be sometimes.

You happily drove back home, and before dropping Sid at hers you gushed your worries at your friend.

“Do you think I should go? On Saturday?” you bit your lower lip, insecure.

“Why wouldn’t you? He obviously has some kind of crush on you, might become something later… don’t overthink, Y/N, just go for it” she squeezed your thigh.

What would you be without Sid? Absolutely nothing.

“Bit late for that, I’m overthinking since the first night” you rolled your eyes, but smiled thankfully at her.

“Well, stop it then” she shrugged. “I already told you, things like this don't happen everyday. If you want, take it. If you don’t, say goodbye cause it will def be taken from you if you let”

“Ouch” you frowned, and she chuckled.

“See you tomorrow” she kissed your cheek and got out of the car, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You spent the rest of the week thinking about her words. Despite talking to Mason everyday you didn’t tell him you were coming, so when you actually showed up Saturday he was surprised to see you at the end of the game.

He played great, again, and you were over the moon for him, happy that you were able to watch him playing and be his friend. Mason texted you where to meet him and after giving you a hug, he took his time to appreciate you. “Nice dress” he smirked.

You chose a dark red flowy dress with sleeves that ends up to your knees, to match your red Nike’s and you were feeling really pretty, so Mason’s compliment made you smile.

“Thank you. I don’t usually wear dresses but it’s been so hot lately” you shrugged. “Nice game today, you were amazing again. Being everywhere and having an excellent vision of the game”

Mason smiled, enjoying your praises and the way you talked about football. “I’m glad you liked the game, Y/N” he tucked your hair behind your ear and looked around you. ”Where’s Sid?”

“She had plans for tonight” you smiled, raising your hand to fix his messy hair but stopping in the middle of the way.

He tilted his head to the side, smiling back at you and holding your waist, guiding your hand to his hair. “Interesting. So you’re free tonight?”

“What are you thinking about?” you stood on your tiptoes for a better vision of his hair.

“Um, I wished we could have a proper night together, like dinner night or something but I need another shower first… would you like to- it’s okay if you don’t want to, but we could have dinner at my place?”

“It doesn’t seem like an actual date” you joked, looking in his eyes and finally happy with his hair.

“You can wait for me to get ready and I can take you to some fancy restaurant” Mason pouted, making you pout too.

“Dinner at yours sounds nice, Mase. I’m just teasing you”

“Uh there’s only a problem” he scratched the back of his head. “I’ll take my car and pick you here, but if you don’t want papz pics you’ll need to lay down on the backseat” he pouted again. “I’m sorry”

“Go grab your mini truck” you rolled your eyes teasingly.

“You just call it a truck cause you can’t get in by yourself”

This man is learning how to piss you off. Honestly.

“Whatever” you shrugged, and Mason laughed before running to where his car was parked.

You actually laid down on the back seat. It’s too soon to be photographed in his car, as you don’t even know Mason’s intentions. Yes, he’s still talking to you but you can’t rule out the possibility of this being only a distraction to him.

“It’s safe now” he told you, and you sat properly, bursting into laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never done this before” you shrugged. “Like, hiding from paparazzi. But to be fair, I never entered a footballer’s car before either”

“Ugh, I’m sorry for this. They can be pretty annoying” Mason sighed, and you imagined how tired he probably is of hiding stuff.

“It’s funny tho” you tried to lighten the mood, and it seemed to work because he gave you a big smile.

“We’re ho-ome” he hummed like a child before parking and turning the engine off, and the way he spoke like you lived together made your stomach churn.

Get your shit together, Y/N. You just met him.

Mason got out of the car and quickly opened the door for you, extending his hand.

Realising he was trying to hold his laugh and refusing to give in, you decided to get out without help.

“Oh so we’re doing this?” Mason chuckled when you ignored his hand. “Fine”

In a second, you were hanging on his shoulder.

“Mason!” you squirmed, feeling the blood running to your head, but his arms only held you stronger. It felt good, though. He has big arms.

“Alright” he stood you up. “Welcome to my safe space”

“It’s beautiful. And huge” you looked around, impressed.

“I like to own huge things, if you haven’t noticed. A huge car, huge house, you know” he smirked and held your hand, taking you with him. “This is my living room, and there” he pointed with his finger. “Is my kitchen”

“You’ll cook here tonight?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It depends — do you like pasta? It’s the only dish I know how to cook good enough” he guided you upstairs.

“I love pasta”

“So I’ll cook tonight. Here’s one of the bathrooms” he opened a door, and you thought that his bathroom could be bigger than your entire room back in Brazil. “The guest room” he opened another door. “And my room. Ugh, I love this place” he sighed, happy to be home after a tiring day.

“Your room suits you” you smiled, breathing his smell all over the place. The white sheets and neutral decor is comfortable to your eyes. “Feels cosy”

“So I feel cosy?”

“Kinda off” you blushed.

Mason took a minute to look at you, and you felt shy wondering what he was thinking.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he broke the silence. “Like, you’re in my house right now. I don’t even know why I brought you here — like, please don’t get it wrong, I just-“

“I got it” you chuckled. “I don’t even know why I came either”

He brushed your jaw and smiled at you before sighing.

“You can sit in my bed while I shower. Or you can look around the house. Just don’t try to open the front door cause I always lock it and the security system is really loud” he joked.

“Don’t worry sir., I’m not running. Yet” you smirked.

“Good” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be right back”

You nodded, instantly feeling awkward when he entered his bathroom. Without knowing what to do, you sat on his bed and waited, texting Sid in the meantime.

You blushed, rolling your eyes even though Sid couldn’t see you.

Mason didn’t take long, coming back with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “Sorry, I forgot to bring my shorts with me” he smiled shyly, but your mind wasn’t there anymore to hear it.

The sight of his bare torso and the water drops falling from his hair, stopping only when they’d reach the towel, took your breath. You tried to take Sid’s words out of your mind, but it was impossible.

He’s too hot for you to handle it.

“Y/N? Everything’s alright?” he hooked his fingers under your chin, lifting your head, and you haven’t even realised he was that close. He had a cocky smile when you locked your eyes with his and you knew he saw your gaze all over his body.

“Yes?” you tried to breathe, thankful you didn’t stutter.

“C’mere” he smiled, offering his hand for you to hold. When did he wear his shorts? You have no idea.

Blinking to settle your mind, you held his hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mason asked you one more time whilst he was leading you to the hall. He turned to face you when you didn’t respond, his expression a bit concerned. “We don’t need to eat if you’re not feeling well”

“I’m fine Mase” you smiled at him, feeling bad for liking the way he was worried about you. “It’s just…”

“What? What is wrong?” he stopped in the middle of his hall, brushing your jaw.

“You’re so hot, it’s making me dizzy” you blurted out, looking everywhere but his eyes.

Mason chuckled, the concern in his eyes turning into surprise and then into lust. “So that’s what’s wrong?”

“I just fed your ego, right?” you whimpered, and he laughed loudly.

“A bit, baby. Can you stop looking away?”

“No? I’m ashamed” you admitted, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“For thinking I’m hot?” he hooked his fingers under your chin, lifting your head.

“For not being able to hold my shit together just because you appeared shirtless” You finally looked at his face, his smirk sending shivers to your body. You wouldn’t like to admit it, but you stared at his lips for long seconds before your gaze met his.

“It was intentional though, I’m sorry” he chuckled, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

“Whatever” you mumbled, grabbing his neck and kissing his lips.

Mason were definitely surprised by your actions, but it only took him a couple of seconds to hold your waist and press you against the hallway wall, groaning into your mouth.

The pair of you spent a few minutes lost in the kiss, getting to know each other’s intentions and intensity.

He pressed you against the wall, grabbing your tights to hold you in his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“What do you want from me?” you murmured against his lips.

It was an internal question but Mason heard it and you had to hold onto his shoulders emotional support when he answered with his voice a bit huskier. “Everything”

You were actually kissing this man? Like, for real?

When Mason tightened his grip on your waist you rocked your hips against his, involuntarily.

He groaned in your mouth, trailing kisses down your neck and tucking his face in your shoulders. Yes, the friction was too good but he didn’t want to scare you. Despite that he wants you for a long time now, it’s the first time he has an actual chance.

Taking a deep breath, Mason pulled his face to look in your eyes, his hand reaching for your chin.

“But kissing you is enough for me now, baby. I’m more than happy with that” he said softly, reassuring you.

You thought it was really cute how caring and lovely he can be, but you had other plans.

It’s true, you were holding back until now. He’s fucking Mason Mount, and you’re just… Y/N. And the way he seemed obsessed with you since the first day made you so scared.

Scared of being the one who falls later, but deeper.

Now that you really kissed him, after shy pecks in the back of bars, you feel like you can’t stop.

“Is not enough for me, though” you whispered, and Mason stayed quiet, waiting for you to keep talking. Before you could let your insecurities speak louder and make you give up, you reached for his hand on your face, sliding two of his fingers into your opened mouth and surprising him.

Mason tried not to moan — he tried so hard.

But your warm tongue between his fingers and the way you’re sucking him made him think how it would be to feel your mouth in other places of his body.

“Fuck” he breathed, all the innocent image he had of you going away. “Y/N…”

You left his fingers with a pop, kissing him with another level of urgency. “I want you”

“I need to know what and how you like it first” Mason looked at you with concerned eyes, which made you smile. You could count on your fingers how many guys you’ve met were concerned about what you liked, instead of pleasing themselves first.

“Dirty talk” you chuckled, rocking against him one more time, his sweat shorts making it possible for you to feel his bulge completely. “It depends on the situation, but a bit of degradation as well”

“So you’re a little slut, aren’t you?” he smirked, and you felt your cheeks blushing again. Feels different when someone asks you what you’re into instead of assuming.

“Surprised? I’m not the princess you thought I were?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“No” Mason shook his head. “You’re still my princess, just hornier than I thought. I like it”

“What about you?” you kissed the tip of his nose. “Do you have any kinks?”

“Uh no” he blushed, and you thought he couldn’t get prettier than he was at this moment.

“I don’t believe you” you grinned. “Be a good boy and tell me, please?” but by the way his eyes sparkled, you already knew.

“Maybe I like to be praised” he murmured, tucking his head in the crook of your neck.

“So obedient… and pretty. I want to ride you so bad” you whispered in his ear, and Mason choked, pulling his head away so he could look at you with widened eyes. In a second, you were back at his room.

“I didn’t expect you to act like this at all- but this is so much better than what I expected anyways” he sighed, laying you in his bed and kissing your neck again. “Do you like rush sex or?”

The way he wanted to be sure of how you wanted him to fuck you made your heart melt. “Take your time, Mase”

“Good. I don’t want to rush with you” he kissed your neck, whispering with a hoarse voice. “I want to fuck you slowly. Taste you on my tongue first”

“What else?” you closed your eyes, grabbing his hair.

“Stretch you out with my fingers” he murmured against your lips. “And only then, have you clenching around my dick”

His words made you clench around nothing and you whined, that desperate feeling already taking over you. “Mm-hmm, please. I want this so bad” you whispered. “So bad, Mason”

“Not more than me” he slid his hands under your dress, leaving open mouthed kisses on your throat whilst your hand ran through his hair.

The top of your dress was tight and you didn’t need a bra, which helped Mason to brush your already hard nipples with the pad of his thumb.

“Such a beautiful dress” he murmured, rocking his hips against yours, and you could feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Let’s not ruin it, right?”

You nodded, giving him permission to take your dress off, and Mason did it, his hands exploring your body, grabbing your thigh and squeezing your bum in the process.

You let out a soft moan when he played with the strap of your panties, sliding them down your legs and quickly finding his way in the middle of your thighs.

He took his time to admire your naked body before he used two fingers to part your folds, admiring how wet you were for him.

The pair of you stayed in silence for a moment, feeling the tension between you. His fingers played at your entrance and without you noticing he pushed two in, eliciting from you the filthiest moan he ever heard.

“Gonna call out my name like a little slut?” he finally spoke again, one of his hands stroking your waist.

“Mase-“ you spread your legs further, your hands grabbing the sheets.

“Just like that” he smiled, watching his finger disappearing inside you as you dripped for him.

You moaned his name again when he made a scissoring motion with his fingers, leaning his body over you so his mouth could find the way to your breasts, and your hands went straight to his hair.

Mason gave attention to your sensitive nipples, licking and sucking them whilst fingering your cunt, enjoying the way you were all soft moans and breathy underneath him.

When the willingness to taste you was too overwhelming, he trailed his kisses to your neck and jaw, murmuring dirty things against your ear. “Can I have a taste of you?”

“There’s nothing you can’t have tonight” you murmured, rolling your eyes at the feeling of his curled fingers inside of you.

Mason chuckled, kissing your lips before lowering his body without taking his fingers off of you, his lips finding the way to your thighs. He kissed them, brushing his nose against your clit and shivering at your filthy noises.

You curled your fingers on his hair, unconsciously trying to bring him closer, which made him giggle. “Patience, baby. I’ll get there” he murmured, getting his fingers out and teasing your core with a kiss.

When you thought he was about to tease for a few moments more, he pushed his tongue inside of you, making you clench around it.

Mason ate you out, his tongue sliding through your wet folds whilst he brushed your clit with his nose.

He groaned at the taste of you, the vibration making you moan. You were so warm, velvet and tasty that he thought he wanted this moment to last forever, his tongue exploring you like this.

When you felt you were about to reach your climax, you pushed him away, making him lay on his back, and Mason obliged, looking up at you like you were a goddess.

You quickly slid his shorts down his legs, tossing it onto the floor and admiring his hard and long dick pressed against his belly. “No boxers?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“He likes to be a free spirit” he chuckled, and a wave of excitement coursed through Mason’s body as your hands squeezed his thighs.

You sat on his thigh and took him in your hand, stroking him a few times and spreading his precum through his length.

Mason groaned when you lowered yourself onto him, feeling your eyes watering a bit at the burning sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so big” you whined, trying to get comfortable.

“Thank you?” Mason chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist and resisting the urge to lift his hips.

After a moment to adjust around his cock, you took his hand to your stomach. “So fucking big, I can feel you here”

Mason grinned, biting his lower lip. “You’re pressing me so tight baby, it feels so good”

You rocked your hips against his. “No, Mase. You are filling me so well” you slowly started to bounce on top of him, resting your hands on his chest for support and murmuring. “So good it makes me wanna scream your name”

“You should do it” Mason squeezed your ass self-indulgently, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re gripping around me so desperately hard, Y/N. Such a dirty thing to do. And it feels like heaven every time”

You rolled your eyes, moving harder. After the way he’s been touching you for the last thirty minutes, your body is begging for you to reach your orgasm. “Shit, you’re so good with your words”

Mason felt his own climax coming embarrassingly fast, so he started to guide you with his words, to be sure you would come first.

“You’re enjoying fucking yourself on my dick?” he murmured, and you were sure his grip on your waist would leave a mark.

“Mason-” you gasped, your nails scratching his chest, your body bouncing even faster on top of him.

“Um? You’re such a whore, bouncing on top of me and begging for me. You wanna cum around my cock? You want me to make you cum?”

You nodded, incapable of thinking straight with your tights burning and his dick hitting the perfect spot. “I’m so close” you cried out.

Mason smirked when your legs threatened to fail, quickly changing your position and laying you on your back.

“Close your eyes and relax, babe. Mase will take care of you now” he whispered to you with the most cocky of tones, kissing your jaw and starting to thrust his hips.

You cupped his face so you could kiss him, but the way he kept hitting your soft spot with the same rhythm and pressure got you paralysed by pleasure, your mouth open and your eyes shut.

“Look at me” Mason groaned, feeling his own orgasm growing inside him. “I want to look in your eyes whilst I guide you through the best orgasm you’ve ever had”

Trying to keep your eyes open, you placed your forehead against him, whispering his name when his dick twitched inside of you.

Mason quickly attached his thumb to your swallow clit and started to rub gentle circles to help you, and it was too much for you.

“Mase- oh my God“ you whimpered, feeling everything spin. “You’re so good. Fuck, you’re so good”

“Mm-hmm, let it go for me babe. Be a good girl for Mase, uh?” he whispered in your ear, your praise feeding his ego.

His words triggered your orgasm, and the way you clenched so tight around his dick had him coming with you, incapable of holding it any more.

You dropped your head back onto the pillow, too tired to speak anything else. But fuck, this man just ruined sex to you and you have no idea how to feel about it.

Mason rested on top of you for a few minutes and you could feel him going soft inside of you.

When the pair of you rested a bit after you activities, Mason got up and cleaned you, grabbing one of his shirts for you. He cooked pasta — a really good one, you need to admit, and you had a little silly dinner, filled with jokes and gossips from Manchester United.

You spent the night at his, cuddling in your sleep, and felt cosy, warm and right.

And even though you know his world is different from yours, and you kept yourself reminded of the danger in catching feelings for someone with a life like his, you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling when he woke you up next morning, with kisses that felt like rays of sunshine on your skin.

Once Mason dropped you home Sunday morning, you knew you were fucked up. And not in the way you were last night.

—

You were feeling a bit insecure.

Since you and Mason had sex, both of you weren’t able to see each other again, and even though he replies to your messages your overthinker ass couldn’t help but think he had what he wanted and you were stupid for catching feelings, even if it was the tiniest of them.

So December 25th, you and Sid went out again, so you could dance and forget your feelings a little bit. You used to love Christmas, but the tradition was a bit different where you came from.

The whole family reunites on December 24th, to wait for midnight and eat dinner together. The Brazilian celebration also has a lot of music, alcohol and some families stay awake until 3am.

Christmas is a bit different here, and there’s no family for you to reunite with in England, so your morning was quiet and lonely, and thankfully Sid accepted to go out after spending the day with her family.

But this time, Nick was also coming.

Not that one of you invited him. He just… invited himself. And you weren’t really happy with it. Since he caught you and Sid talking about how Mason was kinda distant, he thought that would be a good idea to try to shoot his shot.

Apparently, Nick didn’t understand that you’re not into him.

After a few drinks, he started to annoy you, staring at your body in a disrespectful way and trying to get your attention at all cost whilst you kept putting some distance between you both.

You were about to ask Sid if both of you could leave when your phone buzzed with a text, and you instantly smiled, forgetting Nick.

You went out to forget your feelings but your feelings were texting you. And now you’ll be waiting for him to come to you. Fuck.

When you blocked your phone screen, you weren’t able to hide your smile. Mason said you belong to him, and he’s right. You know you do.

It seems pretty intense to feel that way after seeing him only a couple of times, but you can’t even deny it anymore. You want him, and him only.

In a few minutes, Mason was there. You, Sid and Nick were next to the bar, trying to avoid the dance floor, and he easily found you.

With a gentle smile, he shook hands with Nick and kissed Sid’s cheek before hugging you, tucking his face in your neck and brushing his nose against your skin.

Your hand went straight to his hair and Mason relaxed his tense shoulders, melting against your body. “Hi Mase”

“I’ve missed you” he whispered, tightening his grip on you.

“I’ve missed you too” you smiled at him when he pulled back. Nick cleaned his throat, trying to get your attention.

“You want a drink, Y/N?” your coworker asked you, and Mason rolled his eyes before himself behind you.

“I’m fine Nick, but thank you” you smiled. Mason frowned, sitting on the bars bench and pulling you closer so he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I insist, your glass is empty for a while now” he kept talking and you tried not to laugh at Mason’s snort.

“Don’t worry, Nick” you tried to be polite. He stared at you and Mason with a flustered expression, and Mase tightened his grip on your waist.

You felt bad for liking the way his huge body was tense behind you, bringing you even closer.

A part of you wanted him to be jealous of Nick. Not really healthy of you, you know, but after months feeling like he hadn’t felt the same way about your night together, it was nice to feel wanted. To feel like he’s on the same page as you, even though you didn’t talk about it yet.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’ll blame your period.

“No one has ever stared at me that long” Mason murmured in your ear, which made you giggle.

“He can be inconvenient sometimes… it wasn’t at first, but now his comments always make me uncomfortable, especially when he talks about you” you kept murmuring, enjoying the way he was pressing his lips on your ear.

“Really? And what does he says about me?”

“That you’re selfish. And violent, rude and ignorant”

“Wow” Mason laughed without emotion. “He has a lot to say about someone he doesn’t know. Do you agree with him?” he tickled your waist, just to show you he was messing around, and you shook your head. “I can be violent sometimes, tho. I think you should know that” he pressed a gentle kiss on your jaw.

“Violent like you lost a game and needed to break your entire house?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, asking for another drink.

Mason watched you take a sip before he kept talking. “Violent like I lost a game and I need support”

“I can be supportive” your already drunk ass told him.

“I don’t know if you got me, baby” Mason chuckled.

“Oh, I did” you smiled at him, turning your face to look in his eyes, the pair of you momentarily lost in your own world.

Nick got closer to the counter, ordering another drink before turning to you and Mason.

“So you’re both dating?” he asked.

“We’re not” you smiled falsify, and Mason scratched your waist.

“Yet” Mount smiled, tilting his head to the side when you stared at him.

“So… what’s happening between you two?” Sid asked shameless, with a playfully smile.

“We are… friends?” you said, not knowing what Mason wanted you to answer. He didn’t like it, by the way he squeezed your waist.

“Friends?” Nick said with an ironic tone. “Wow, I got scare for a bit”

Mason tightened his grip on you, trying to pull you even closer. “Well, she’s marrying me one day, but she doesn’t know that yet”

“Mason!” you whispered, almost choking with your own saliva.

“What?” he looked at you innocently, kissing your jaw before whispering against your cheek. “You’ll be my wife. I swear”

“Fine. I want ‘a friend’ too” Sid rolled her eyes, drinking her Hanky Panky in one go.

“So, Nick” Mason called, and you started a conversation with Sid, letting him deal with this for you. “I’ve heard of you”

“Really? What Y/N told you about me?” he tried to smile, pretending Mason and his muscles wasn’t scary at all.

“That you think I’m rude” Mason giggled. “But you’re right. I am rude. And ignorant”

“No, he’s not” you rolled your eyes, incapable of letting him talk about himself like this.

“I can be tho, if he keeps looking at you like that. Where’s your manners, Nick?” Mason confronted him. Both Nick and yours cheeks blushed, but for different reasons.

“Sorry. I had no clue you fancied her and that he was almost dating-”

“I do, but you shouldn’t be sorry because she has a man. You should be sorry for making women uncomfortable” your pretty boy lectured him, and somehow this made Mason looks even hotter to you. “But yeah, don’t look at her like that ever again”

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Nick seemed embarrassed with Mason’s words and you nodded at him. “I think I should leave”

“I totally agree” Mount smiled innocently, his thumb brushing the exposed skin of your waist.

“Mason!” you whispered again, afraid of what Nick could say about him on the internet.

He only smiled and shrugged at you, kissing your cheek whilst Nick left without any more words.

After this, you had an incredible time with Sid and Mason, but none of you had energy to keep going anymore, and since Mason had a game the next day you decided that you had enough of fun.

Despite it being Boxing Day, he came in his own car so he hadn’t any drink and he asked to take the pair of you home, so you accepted, preferring to go with him than to take an Uber.

It was a quick ride and Mason dropped Sid at her home before heading to yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you” you smiled.

He squeezed your thigh and smiled at you. “My mom taught me to always help silly girls”

“You’re the best friend a girl could have” you pouted at him, Mason gave you a look. You know he didn’t like to be called friend again. But he is your friend.

You mean, he hasn't asked you to be anything else.

You gave his cheek a kiss, ready to leave the car, but Mason grabbed your arm. He pecked your lips, smiling when you blushed.

“A goodnight kiss, you know” he grinned, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way.

“Right” you opened the door, pecking his lips again before jumping out of the car and looking back at him. “A good luck kiss, then”

Mason smirked and you wished you had the courage to get back in the car and kiss him probably. You closed the car’s door and ran to your front door, chuckling when you realised he waited for you to get inside.

You know you’re slowly falling for him, but there’s no way you can stop yourself now. To be honest, you don’t want to stop it.

When you’re talking with him, you can’t even remember you’ve been hurt once. He always goes out of his way, searching things about your nationality and what you say you like. He’s always trying to make you happy and aware that he cares about you.

You just wished you could see him more often, but at the same time you don’t want to be the one asking for it… everything is just… so confusing. Sometimes the pair of you act like a couple already, even though you haven’t talked about it. He treats you so gently and right now you feel like telling him all of this.

But you can’t. Because he’s Mason Mount.

The fear of rejection is too overwhelming, even bigger since he has been more distant those last months.

From his side, Mason felt awful for not giving you enough attention recently, but just like a child he wanted to prove something: that you would miss him. That you want him. That was really more than just sex.

And now that he knows you’ve in fact missed him, Mason also knows that you feel something for him, like he feels for you. And he’s about to fight for it.

—

Mason got home at midnight and quickly changed into comfortable clothes. He was supposed to be sleeping, but yet he couldn’t resist staying awake and thinking about you.

He missed you already, to be honest. And he wanted to make some things clear to you. Mason knows it’s always difficult for him to have a relationship, but after months talking with you, he’s sure he wants at least to try.

He’s been afraid he’d scare you by trying to ask you out. Afraid to push you away with his fame and money.

Mount is a bit dumb and insecure. Please, don’t blame him.

But something about tonight… he knows you don’t want Nick, but the mere thought of you with another guy almost killed him.

Your eyes when he told you will be his wife one day gave him enough courage to talk with you about it, but he couldn’t talk in front of Sid — even though you’re going to tell her everything later.

Tossing in his bed without being able to sleep, Mason decided to text you.

At first, you thought he was angry at you and the possibility made your stomach burn. But actually, what Mason had to say was a bit scarier.

You know the pair of you are something. You can’t deny it anymore. But something what? You don’t know.

He wants to be like, your boyfriend? It looks like. He was waiting for you to give him a green light? Could you accept being his girlfriend with everything that would come with it?

You sighed before accepting his phone call.

“Call me that again” was the first thing he said. “I wanna know how it’s pronounced”

“It’s pronounced amor”

“No, don’t say like a teacher” he said with a grumpy tone, and you smiled at your phone. “Say it to me”

“Why are you still awake, amor?”

“Jesus, you’ll be the death of me” Mason groaned. “Start talking”

“What am I supposed to talk about?”

“You know pretty well”

“You never asked. For me to be yours”

“I didn’t want to scare you. I was waiting for like, signals, I don’t know. But you kept calling me your friend. It pisses me off”

“Sorry” you giggled. It’s weird to talk about your feelings with someone without feeling ashamed or afraid that he’ll use it against you since he’s the one wanting to have this conversation. “I guess I’m just scared”

“Of what?”

“Do you have any idea of who you are?” you sighed.

“Yes, now I’m yours amor. And my parents’ kid. You don’t have to see me as Mason Mount”

“But you are Mason Mount, baby”

“That’s why we haven't had a real date yet? Because I’m Mason Mount?”

You cackled. “Funny question. We never had a real date because you never asked me out”

“Uhm, you’re right” Mason giggled on the other side and you felt like a teenager, shivering with his voice. “I know we don’t see each other very often…”

“We only see each other once a month” you interrupted him, still laughing. “And there’s like two months that not even that”

“I have a proper explanation” he sighed and you know he’s pouting. “I was afraid to let myself fall for you. I got so obsessed with you since day one and knowing you could not feel the same made me insecure. But now we already act like something when we see each other. And it would be nice if we could go out… like, for dinner…”

You felt like you were about to die. Or to melt. To burst. Maybe all three at the same time.

“You’re officially inviting me for a date?” you whispered, feeling scared and excited. “Mason…”

“Alright, tell me everything you want to tell me about this. Just let go, pour your heart out for me”

“I told you, it’s a bit scary to get into something with the Mason Mount” you whimpered. “Our first date will be posted on twitter within minutes”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about this” his voice was lower and you felt your heart ache.

“No Mase, if I’m being honest with myself this doesn’t bother me at all. If it’s the price to be with you then I would pay, but…” you took a deep breath and tried to order your thoughts. “Once it’s over, they won’t let me forget. Your face will be everywhere and I know it will hurt like hell. They’ll send me stuff, tag me or comment on my posts. They’ll tweet saying that they miss us together or that they’re happy I’m no longer around you, cause they hated me. And I’ll never left the restaurant”

Mason waited a few seconds to answer. “What restaurant?” he sounded really confused, which made you laugh.

“It’s just a metaphor”

“Forget your metaphor then, there’s no “once it’s over”. I could make you believe again. In love. And that they last long” his voice was muffled and you let yourself picture his face crumpled against his pillow. “We can take things slow as we were taking until now. But we would kiss, and I would bring you flowers and we could have dinner and you could spend a night at mine and I would never have to hear you call me friend again and…”

“Mase…” you interrupted him, taken aback by the fact he remembered your first conversation.

“I have wanted you since the first time I got my eyes on you, Y/N” Mason blurted out, trying to make you understand.

After a moment of silence letting his words sink, you chuckled. “You can bring me flowers next time”

“And call you my girl?” you could feel his cocky tone waiting to come to the surface.

“Good night Mase. Sleep well” you whispered, feeling giddy inside.

“Y/N” he whined, but you could hear his giggles. “Good night princess”

You know it won’t be easy. No matter how much he wants you, he’s still Mason Mount. But, you thought, he can be yours Mason Mount.

And he wants to be yours. At the end of the day, that’s the only thing that matters.

—

You were actually truly happy.

Despite the fear of being in love with someone, you couldn’t help but feel giddy every time Mason talked to you.

After the talk about your feelings, both of you found a routine between your work and his, so you could talk more. You felt the most special woman seeing him striving to talk to you more.

The pair of you also went on a couple of date nights, most of them at his house since you didn’t want for the internet to discover about you before Mason was one hundredth percent sure about it.

You also went to his birthday party, and he showed you to his entire family. Yes, he introduced you as his girl, but even now, a month after “the talk”, he still hasn’t asked you to be more than his friend, but you’re okay being friends with benefits.

You know that despite being obsessed with you from the first time he saw you, a real relationship needs to be built with time, confidence, talks and experiences together.

You already like him so much that all you want is to build this kind of confidence with him. You know he’s worth the wait, and thankfully you’re a patient girl.

But today, all you can do is cry. For multiple reasons, and obviously, because you don’t know if you’re enough for him. For his world full of money, parties, girls and tabloids.

He only had one public relationship until now and you know he’s probably looking for the perfect girl to introduce the world to. What if you’re not that girl?

What if you don’t dress well enough, what if you’re not cool enough, smart enough or pretty enough to be part of his intimate circle of friends?

The insecurity grew inside you and you spent the whole day trying not to scream in the middle of the office.

Happy that was finally Friday, you bid your goodbyes to Sid and went home in a rush. She knows how sad and moody you get during your period and that’s another reason for you to love her so much — she never judges you. She just let you be.

When you got home, you curled in your sofa without even taking the day clothes off, your bag being thrown beside the door.

You don’t even know if you could get upstairs, and your cramps were getting the best of you.

But no matter how much in pain you were, you instantly smiled when your phone buzzed with Mason’s text.

You smiled at his text feeling all giddy inside, and obliged him, going straight for a hot shower. Despite loving the idea of being taken care of by Mason, you know how busy and tiring his schedule is.

When you finished your shower half an hour later and changed into comfy pyjamas, you decided to watch something curled up on your sofa, but as soon as you stepped into your living room you were surprised by the doorbell.

“Good evening, can I help?” you asked the man in front of your door.

“Evening lady, mr. Mount ordered this to you. He already paid”

You felt all the butterflies living in your tummy fighting with each other.

“Oh, okay. Thank you” you picked up what looked like a basket, smiling at the delivery man before closing the door. You didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger.

Running to your sofa, you opened it to figure out Mason bought you chocolate, painkillers, a lot of Brazilian snacks and guaraná.

There was even a teddy bear inside the basket and your eyes never watered so fast.

You reached for your phone, wanting nothing more than to text him.

You ran to open the door, still trying to process that he drove to your house just because you’re not feeling well. When you opened the door, Mason smiled at you, and he looked like the most soft man on earth wearing a big hoodie and sweat shorts.

“I already showered” you pouted at him, and Mason let out the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard.

“Oh what a shame” he kissed your forehead. “C’mon, I want to cuddle” he entered your house, and you loved the way he was feeling at home.

It’s bizarre how he instantly changes your mood, making you giddy and smiley.

You grabbed Tony on the sofa and guided Mason to your bedroom. The pair of you laid in your bed and he made himself comfortable on top of you, tucking his face in your neck and finding his way underneath your shirt.

After a few minutes in silence, he squeezed your waist. “I have something to tell you” he seemed a bit nervous and you were instantly concerned.

“What’s wrong baby? You’re feeling good?” you stroked his scalp, feeling your heart ache with love something when he melted against you.

“I want you to be my girlfriend” Mason blurted out, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Mason?!” you gasped, instantly feeling his smile against the crook of your neck.

“I just want you so bad” he murmured, his voice muffled by your skin. “It doesn’t matter where you are, I’m always seeking for you”

For a second, your insecurities appeared on the surface and you thought about everything that could go wrong. He could hurt you. You could hurt him. You could succumb to the media and his fame and fans.

But then Mason pulled his face away so he could look at you, and his melted chocolate eyes were so soft and filled with his own insecurities that you knew… you just knew the pair of you could face everything as long as you were together.

“I want you bad too baby” you stroked his jaw, letting out a content sigh.

“So you’ll be mine?” he pouted, and you felt the urge to kiss his perfect lips.

“I’ve been yours for a while now, Mason Mount.”

“Good” he pulled up to kiss your jaw. “Hopefully this means we can fuck all the time ‘cause I really miss being inside of you and-“

“Mason!” you slapped the back of his head. “Don’t say things like this in the presence of our son”

“Sorry Tony” he mumbled. “It’s not my fault you have a hot mom”

“He has a hot mom and an irresponsible dad, apparently” you chuckled, stroking his jaw. Mason adjusted himself on top of you, kissing your collarbone and sighing in content.

Before you fell asleep, the last thing you thought was that you can easily get used to it.

i might have a part two for this one so please let me know if you would like to see their the development of their relationship xx

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fics #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluffy #mason mount #mason mount x reader

[the-modern-typewriter]

And so they all lived happily ever after.[1]

Theodore could finally breathe.

The two of them had bought the quiet, peaceful cottage that they had always talked about[2] and filled it with things[3] because they were allowed to do more than simply need now.[4] They were allowed to want, and build a home because home no longer had to be wherever the resistance had camped up for the night. Honestly, Theo had thought he’d be dead before that ever happened. Being born the chosen one, nobody had ever expected him to survive fate long enough for the aftermath, least of all him. [5]

Didn’t that mean he had the earned the right to be happy, now?[6]

“Theo.” She sat opposite him at the kitchen table, and took his hand, and looked at him like the world still needed saving, like he hadn’t done enough. “This isn’t working,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

It came out of nowhere.[7]

***

“I don’t have nightmares,” he said.[8] “We won. I killed the Shadow King, if anyone should have nightmares-”

He forced his expression to ease. He shouldn’t resent Adina her nightmares, if she had them. He knew the battlefield they had met upon. In a world of blood and conquest and power that made him feel like he was going to sizzle from the inside out, she had been a cooling balm. She had made him a man, instead of something out of legend.

“I know you were there too,” he continued, because she was acting like he’d somehow forgotten that. “But it’s over.” Didn’t she see that it was over? “Whatever nightmares you have, we’ll get through it together, yeah? They’re only dreams.”

“Memories.”

His jaw clenched. “They can’t hurt you unless you let them.”[9]

Her mouth clicked shut and she swallowed hard. At some point, during the argument, they’d both surged to their feet. Her arms were crossed against her chest, defensive, like either of them should have any need for defences anymore. They were safe with each other. She knew that! Before she started this conversation, they had been fine. Hadn’t they been fine?

“If there was a button that could make me feel differently,” she managed. “I would hit it in a heartbeat. God. I’m not – I know this isn’t your fault. I’m not saying that. I know you’ve gone through enough. I know this isn’t fair, but I—”

“You just need time.”[10]

They had time now, didn’t they? Walking through the woods filled him with a calm he’d never known before. The green trees, dappled by sunlight, made it impossible to dwell on the cold feeling of bloodied stone against broken bones. Everything was light, and air, and the freedom to run.

There were no people to be responsible for, no important envoys to encroach upon the time they managed to snatch together, always wrenching them apart. It was him, and her, and they didn’t have to live in a stolen moment anymore. Wasn’t that enough?[11]

“How can you be so okay?” Adina’s voice crumpled on the question, so small, and it felt like a knife between his ribs because it sounded like an honest question too. “After everything…” Her eyes were big and desperate - he recoiled. He could finally breathe, and she would have him drown.

After everything, he was allowed to be okay. Was he supposed to live forever feeling guilty for everything he could have done better? Was he supposed to have died too?[12]

Maybe, yes, in her story he should have.

It was easier to love a legend than a man. It was easy to make promises to someone who wouldn’t live to hold you to them. For a second, he hated her, more than he’d ever hated the Shadow King. He didn’t want to be a thing of hate anymore. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“Everything?” He repeated, oh so softly. His fists curled, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood and he didn’t want to ever draw blood again either. He stopped.  He relearned how to breathe. “You do not get to hold ‘everything’ against me, Adina. I did everything you asked of me. That all of you asked of me. For you. For this.”

“Theo…”

“We love each other.” He turned away because he couldn’t look at her. “That’s all that matters. We’ll get through this. Happily ever after.”

She flinched in the corner of his vision.

“Please.” He closed his eyes. “You want to talk about everything? After everything, let me have this. Give me this. It is the only thing I ever asked of you.”[13]

She exhaled a shaky breath. The silence stretched. Then, she kissed him sweetly, gently, like everything was okay. She whispered the words against his lips:

“I’ll try.”

***

It was better again, after that. Their fight became another battle of the past to be buried with their dead and forgotten. 

In the mornings, they would paint the sunrise that they had once spent hours trying to picture, when the endless night of the Shadow King’s reign felt like it never might never break. The first time Theo had seen that the sky could truly be pink he thought maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made it through after all. But he had.  In the afternoons, they would walk hand in hand through the woods and he would tell her about all of the new growth he was learning about. He liked the names. The colours. The hope.

It wasn’t perfect. Now that she’d pointed it out, he stirred sometimes in the night to find her awake still. When he caressed her face in the dark his hand would come away wet with silent tears.[14] On those nights, he would kiss her honeyed and slow because he didn’t have to kiss her like she was oxygen anymore, until she melted in his arms and smiled again. [15]

The weeks turned into months, which turned into years.

She stopped crying, with time. She healed.[16]

The shadows were gone.

And so, they all lived happily ever after.[17]

----

[1] Happily ever after! It was just another bloody thing to fail at, wasn’t it?

[2] He’d always talked about it. He was happy. The cottage was perched in the middle of the woods, far enough away from civilisation that she could pass days without seeing another person. Sometimes, it felt like they must have lost, because the world that she knew wasn’t there anymore.

[3] She shouldn’t resent him his clutter. He deserved clutter. She knew he deserved clutter, his houseful of little wooden figurines he carved, after everything. 

[4] She hated the clutter.

[5] It was a terrible thing to want happiness, but not know what to do with peace; she’d learned to love him fighting. But now, he loved gently, sword forgotten, armour laid to rest, and that was not the version of him that she’d fallen love with.

[6] She missed the man she’d fallen for.

[7] She couldn’t do this anymore.

[8] Because he was the only one who had truly suffered.

[9] Was it so simple? Had she got it wrong? Was she merely not trying hard enough to move on? His expression told her that, yes, she needed to try harder. They were supposed to be a team but, to his mind, when it came down to it…he’d been the one alone against the Shadow King, hadn’t he? So, if he could heal then why couldn’t she? She hadn’t been the one buckling under the weight of prophecy. She had no right.

[10] That was the other thing everyone always said, along with happily ever after. Time healed all wounds. She just needed time. But how much time was that? Too much, it seemed. There had been a woman she met in the aftermath of the battle at Sunburst fields. She had lost her lover. Adina couldn’t remember the woman’s name, only what she had confessed when no one else was there to hear her.

[11] The woman said, “I’m not allowed to mourn her. No one knew we were together, you see. She had a husband. But she loved me, and I… no one will ever know now, and I must mourn her like she wasn’t mine to mourn. Like I might mourn a stranger.’ The woman’s voice dropped barely audible. "And I think it might just kill me. How do you heal a hurt when you have to pretend it’s not there? Like it’s a papercut instead of a bullet wound?"

[12] He fought to protect her. To protect all of them. In his story, she was the victory he came home to. She was his happy ending. She was not supposed to be broken.

[13] He had fallen in love with her when she was selfish. A good, selfless girl did not love in a stolen moment, after all. Stolen moments had to be taken from someone. But he didn’t want selfish now. He didn’t want someone who had done battle, who had hurt, and been hurt. He didn’t want a woman with a shadow in her heart.

[14] And, so, he fell out of love with her in the way that a person forgets their wallet on the train – with that stabbing sense of panic, of leaving something vital behind, without yet being able to place what was gone.

[15] Instead, he fumbled and groped for the debris, the receipts, the bits of change and dust at the bottom of the bag of them that had meant something important once. He began to look at her like a stranger when she reminded him that she was sharp. That he had loved something sharp, once.

[16] He looked for clues for what was missing.

[17] He would never find her.

#Not sure the footnotes work for tumblr but here goes #but another story of mine I don't think I've shared on here #happily ever after #short story #writeblr #fiction #creative writing #original fiction #fantasy

[demonlovingsheep]

Which brother has the highest kill count in Obey Me? How and why they kill? This is what I think:

Lucifer. He is very strict, prideful, and very powerful. He caused the most casualties in the Celestial War no doubt. In the beginning of his demon years, lower demons would purposely get in his way to challenge him. The first one who tried did not live to tell the tale. The second one follows the fate of the first one. One by one, thousands by thousands would continue to increase Lucifer’s body count to the millions until lower demons finally got the message that he is not to be messed with. As for human casualties, I doubt there is a lot since he doesn’t like the taste of human flesh. If he was summoned by a cult or something, he is going to have fun manipulating those foolish souls. After all, he is a sadist.

Beelzebub. He is Lucifer’s body guard in the Celestial Realm, a Cherub that is one of the highest in terms of rank. Due to his strength, he can easily crush his opponents. When he became a demon, all his victims became his meal during his hunger rampage. His sin took full control of his body in the beginning and most of the time he wouldn’t know what’s happening until one of his brothers stops him or he has no other food source available. He probably does the same up in the human world when summoned by a cult if they don’t offer him a big enough meal as offering, then they become the meal themselves. When MC meets him in the original timeline, he still tries to eat us and we’re not allowed to sleep or be near him without another brother’s supervision. Even the brothers were afraid one of their toes was gonna be bitten off.

Leviathan. “Keep sending your soldiers. The ocean has plenty of space before it run out of gravesites for your people.” He controls the ocean, just sends out a tsunami or two and wipes every being away and let the corpse fall to the bottom to be eaten. Even if the victim has the ability to breathe underwater, he would summon Lotan to obliterate them. He never has to get handsy to increase his kill count. He does snack on a couple of humans that've been swept into the ocean by currents.

Satan: He unleashed hell when he was born, being the embodiment of wrath itself. He was separated from Lucifer and his other brothers when they fell. Since there is no one strong enough to hold him back, he wreaked havoc on anything and everything. He set the area around him into a green fire graveyard until he was eventually found and gets chained and shoved in a locker. He gets ticked off when summoned, and if it was for a stupid reason. If they mistaken him for Lucifer, which is pretty often, no one would live to tell the tale. It took decades for them to learn that he is not that damn arrogant bastard.

Asmodeus: Personally, I was conflicted between him and Mammon, but Asmodeus can snap more easily than Mammon. Even though he is the avatar of lust, he still has standards and boundaries. Most lower demons think he is easy to manipulate. Just compliment him, take him to a motel or bar, and get him when he’s vulnerable. The thing is that Asmo knows, and he has his own wicked plan in mind. Depending on his mood, he can either toy with the other demons for such a long time that the other demon will actually develop some feelings for him, all for it to crumble in the end. Like a heartbreak, but with their hearts literally removed and in Asmodeus’s hands. Asmo will still laugh and feign innocence like he hadn’t just gone sicko lover mode. Or he just snaps and completely loses it, charming the other person to bash their own skull against a wall until they are dead. He still refuses to get his clothes or nails stained.

Mammon: He wasn’t initially greedy, but he slowly grew to be the Avatar of Greed as he is. Mammon perhaps fakes his personality, just like how Satan would cover up his wrath with a smile. After all, how would one approach to make a business if he gives off a threatening aura. Maybe centuries as a shady business demon made him lose his sense of dignity along the way, but keep in mind he still knows his title as an Avatar. He flaunts it too, it’s just that it’s very hard to push him to the point of violence. So most demons don’t take him seriously. Money makes the world go round, but it’s the quickest way for someone to seek vengeance when someone doesn’t pay back what they own. Mammon generally plays by the rules even though he himself gambles in illegal places, but he still has business standards. If someone tries to cheat him out of his winnings, they will earn themselves a one way ticket to Mammon’s blacklist, which most of the time has four or five people in the waiting list so one shouldn’t count on time to delay Mammon’s wrath. He will make them pay. No amount of begging or bribery will work, by then the only way of paying back the “debt” is with one’s soul, which is worth even more than anyone can ever imagine. Hell, perhaps he deals with selling organs on the black market too after he finishes seeking vengeance. Organs are worth a good amount of money, either for hungry cannibalistic demons looking for a demon kidney as dinner or for mad scientist demons to run experiments on. Either way, business.

Belphegor: He is too lazy to kill, that’s all I can say. If you think it’s hard to get on Mammon’s blacklist, it’s even harder to get on Belphegor’s blacklist because he just doesn’t care…unless someone messes with his dear twin, Beelzebub. There will be no more peaceful rest for that person for the rest of their short life because Belphegor will make sure that they die in agony. He will curse the person so that whenever they are about to fall asleep, they will be jolted alive by some weird electric feeling. It’s like the feeling when you trip in your sleep (Hypnic Jerk), except it’s not an angel accidentally dropping your soul when bringing you to heaven, but a demon draining your sanity to live. It’s no brainer that sleep is very important as it keeps one’s mind and body functioning. For the victims of Belphegor however, they will never sleep again. They can try but are always jolted awake whenever they are on the edge to dreamland. Until many days has gone by where the person is basically a walking zombie at this point, they pray and try to fall asleep once again expecting for the same jolt feeling, except it didn’t happen. The victims can finally sleep, but this sleep feels more…permanent.

Author’s note: I started writing this draft like a year ago, and took it out today. I forgot what im exactly writing. It’s so shifty of what it’s meant to be. Think it was kill count and why, but it gradually moved onto killing methods of each. Don’t take it too seriously 👉👈. Hope y’all enjoy.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me headcannons #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #warning for demon behaviors and stuff???

[queenimmadolla]

i am crying

this is the most penny coded video i’ve ever seen

https://www.tiktok.com/@brooke.m.ford/video/7214765082486639873

You’re right so I wrote a lil sumn about it lmao

Eddie drops a condom, penny finds it and you’re stuck answering for it 😭

It was all Eddie’s fault.

  That was the only thought in your head, orbiting your brain like a satellite as you stared at your five year old, a small silver square clutched in her hand.

  Eddie must have dropped it when he’d tossed his wallet onto the bedside table, and your nosy little girl had decided to invade your privacy, always going into your room to get into your things. 

  Except, that wasn’t yours. 

  You’d forgone condoms during the majority of your early years with Eddie, which of course led to Penny’s existence, and you hadn’t learned anything from it because you continued to not use rubbers after she was born. Luck must have been on your side because you didn’t get pregnant again until three years later. After you had Wayne, condoms made their way in your intimate life. You weren’t aiming for three.

  Now, you kind of wish you’d gone back to leaving it to chance.

  A loud, inhuman stream of panic laced gibberish came tumbling from your mouth when she went to tear it open, causing her big brown eyes to snap up to you.

  “Mommy, what’s this?”

  “It’s uhm,” Fuck. How would you be able to stretch the truth? You didn’t want to lie to her but she was still way too young for you to trust her with that conversation, she’d go around and tell everyone in her class how babies are conceived and how people keep from having them, “. . . A net.”

  “A net?” Penny’s eyebrows scrunched together, glaring down at the square packet in her hand. It didn’t look like a net… “For what?”

  Well, now you had to go with it.

  “For…for catching.”

  “Catching what?”

  Cheese and crackers, why did your kid have to ask a billion questions for everything? Why did she have to put you through this at all? Because she’s also Eddie’s kid, that’s why.

  You pursed your lips as the two of you stared at each other, brain was practically rattling in your skull to string together an explanation that was complete and utter bull, but believable to a child.

  “. . . For catching babies.”

  Penny’s head tilted in confusion, “Huh?”

  “You know how mommy had Wayne?”

  “Yup!”

  “Well, that keeps me from having another baby. Babies are like flowers. They start off as seeds. And before daddy can plant the seed, the─” You gestured to the foil packet in her hand, “net, catches it. That way we don’t have too many babies, otherwise, it’d be like a school up in here.”

  Penny’s nose scrunched up in disdain at the mention of school, she’d never been crazy about preschool and she was even less amused with kindergarten, often trying to play cute with Eddie to convince him not to drop her off.

  “I don’t like school,” she mumbled with a scowl, walking over to offer you the object, “Here, use this. Catch them all, mama.”

  You let out a relieved sigh, quickly grabbing it before she could change her mind. It was slid into the back pocket of your pants as you waited for her to leave so you could hide it—and move the others to a different location. Only, she didn’t leave. She just kept staring at you.

  “Can I see the net, mama? Is it big? How come it’s got letters on it, mom? It says X-X-L. How does daddy plant the seed? Does he water it, ‘cause plants need water, mommy. They do. Even flowers. How come I’m not a flower? Did daddy plant me? You didn’t try to catch me with the net? Where did he plant me? How come you guys didn’t catch Wayne? I love him, but sometimes he makes me mad. Is the net folded up? Mommy, please can I see it? Does it catch butterfl─”

  Your daughter went on and on and on and on, but you couldn’t even pay attention to her constant stream of questions and statements, mind consumed with thoughts of how Eddie wouldn’t be getting the chance to use the damn net anytime soon. 

─

Eddie purposely flinging the condom onto the bedroom floor as he dips:

#$ replies #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #pennyverse

[jellalism]

Diluc x GN!Reader fic: In safe hands

You are having a depressive episode. Diluc takes care of you.

Word count: 1018

Genre: Comfort

Content warnings: Depression, not wanting to eat, and anti-natalist thinking (i.e. thinking it is better not to be born).

Notes: First published on AO3 a year and a half ago. Thought I'd finally post it on here, too.

Read below or on AO3.

You sit on the couch of the Dawn Winery Manor. Knees up, nestled under a blanket, staring into space. Comfy, but you’re not happy. It isn’t that anything is particularly wrong, but you’ve been feeling down today. The whole week, really. It’s just one of those episodes you have every once in a while. You know you’ll get through it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. On the worst days, you can barely drag yourself out of bed, eating is a chore, and doing any actual work is an impossible task. Today is perhaps not that bad, but not much better either. Add to that, the terrible boredom. If you had anything to distract yourself with, it might be bearable – but what do you do if your very diversions seem insurmountable tasks themselves? You sigh.

“y/n?” Diluc stands in the middle of the room, taking his coat off. You hadn’t even noticed him coming in.

“Hey,” you say. You wish you could be more outwardly enthusiastic, but you’re too sapped of energy. Inwardly, though, you are quite happy to see him.

“I see you are not doing so well.” He pauses, then walks up to you, bends over, and kisses your forehead. “Hold on, I will make you some tea.”

You murmur a word of thanks, but probably too softly for him to hear as he leaves the room. He could just have one of the servants make the tea, but he prefers to care for you with his own hands. Besides, his expertise doesn’t only pertain alcoholic drinks. He knows the exact right way to make tea, too. None of the servants’ tea can match the Master’s.

You listen to Diluc making noises in the kitchen, as he left the door open. Bringing the water to a boil, measuring the amount of tea, taking the pot from the cabinet – all the while humming a soft tune. Diluc has told you before that humming is an indispensable part of making good tea. You have your doubts, but have no reason to complain; you’re quite content listening to his song. Diluc isn’t free of his own demons, but he can get into the tasks at hand and lose himself in it, which allows him to hum in such a carefree way.

After a couple of minutes, Diluc returns, carrying a tray. On it, a pot of tea, two cups, and… a croissant. Why must he be so perceptive? you wonder. He definitely noticed you haven’t eaten – it is like a sixth sense he has. Diluc places the tray on the table and, without a word, starts pouring the tea. Then he puts one cup in front of you, giving you a smile and a wink. The second cup he places next to yours, and then he seats himself next to you on the couch. His arm goes over your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. You relax, leaning against his body. It’s warm, comfortably warm. You close your eyes.

“Tell me what is on your mind.”

You are silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts. “I don’t know,” you start softly. Diluc murmurs an encouraging sound. Still trying to find the right words, you continue: “Sometimes I just feel so down without an apparent reason. And once I’m that way, the negative thoughts come pouring in, to keep me held down. I fear that I’m never gonna be alright. That I’m not worthy of love. That I’ve misled people into loving me, because if they truly knew me, they wouldn’t stick around. That it'd be better for everyone if I were never born.”

“I respectfully disagree, my love.” Diluc replied. “You are… quite someone, you know? There is no need to be afraid that people would cower at the sight of the ‘real you’. I have been with you for some time, and you have bared your soul. And I am still here, remember? I love you with all your insecurities and wounds, all your mistakes and the things you think are imperfections. I have seen all of you, and I am ‘sticking around’. I love you, and I love being with you.”

A single tear runs over your cheek. “Thank you,” you say. The response feels inadequate, but you can’t quite put your feelings into words. “That means a lot,” you add, turning to face him. He smiles at you in a loving way. His right arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he brings his left hand to your face, holding your chin. His touch is ever so gentle, like you’re a beautiful yet fragile flower. You close your eyes as he leans in. His lips touch yours, press upon them with reservation betraying unparalleled devotion. He tastes like apple cider, with that slight taste of cinnamon.

As the kiss comes to an end, Diluc doesn’t lean back, but rather embraces you tightly. “You mean a lot to me,” he murmurs in your ear. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You make no sound, letting yourself melt in his arms. They are so warm, so safe. Diluc breath tickles your neck.

After a while, Diluc lets go of the embrace, though one of his hands searches yours and holds it. With the other hand, he reaches for the plate with the croissant and picks it up. “Eat something, sweetheart.” You look at the pastry with aversion. Diluc doesn’t fail to notice. “I know you do not want to, but I do not wish to see you neglect your body. If you cannot do it for yourself, do it for me, alright?” He looks at you imploringly and softly squeezes your hand.

“Alright.” You remove your hand from his hold, take the croissant from the plate and take a small bite.

“Good,” Diluc mumbles under his breath. His now-freed hand goes to your head, and starts playing with your hair. “It’s so soft.”

As you slowly eat the pastry, Diluc continues his play with your hair. His fingers are so delicate, so careful. If it’s under his care, eating isn’t all that bad, you suppose.

Notes

Thanks for reading! I really enjoy reading your comments, whether that's as an actual comment or just your reactions in the tags of a reblog. So if you enjoyed, please leave a comment!

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x gn!reader #diluc x you #genshin x you #genshin x gn!reader #my writing

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 45

Back again, with a doozy of an update. I recommend grabbing a snack for this one. You'll be here for a while. 😅 This update does feature a torture session, so mind the trigger warnings. Only four parts and an epilogue left! Hope you like it! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 11,274

Three days later, Emerie had the adoption process in full swing. Elain wouldn’t lie, having a multi-millionaire husband made people work fast. What should’ve taken weeks (or months to be honest) to get through, only took two days. They would be taking Kaden home that night for the first time so he could get settled, and would remain with them throughout the adoption process.

The hospital approved him to stay in the ICU in the meantime to avoid having to place him in a temporary foster home, a perk of her job, and having the chief of surgery vouch for her. Elain had been worried that with an unfamiliar place, his now-healing arm in a cast, and his fear of people, would negatively impact him. The hospital board agreed—though Elain assuring them that she and Azriel would pay for the board in full probably did something to help sway their decision. She understood why hospitals had boards for making decisions, but sometimes she thought they cared more about the money than their patients.

Azriel had taken the last two days off of work to prepare the spare bedroom for their newest addition—Elain helping to the best of her ability when she got off. Due to Kaden’s small size, he also needed a booster seat that was meant for somebody younger than him. She hoped that it wouldn’t be long before they got him to a healthier weight and could put him in something more appropriate for his age.

They still hadn’t told their family, wanting to wait till after they got the approval from social services when they completed their adoption interviews the following month, but they did let the Moonbeam twins know, seeing as they would be carting him and her to work most days. Kaden was going to temporarily join the daycare group at the hospital until they got him into school. Unfortunately, the year had already started, and they were elbow-deep in research for the best ones in the area to enroll him in as soon as possible.

With the twins expected in four months, and now Kaden, it also meant they had to move—the penthouse no longer serving them and their growing family. Azriel had been in touch with his realtor to get the process started, and she hoped they had a new place and time to settle before the twins were born.

Her husband had some very specific requests for their new home security-wise, and she couldn’t disagree with any of his suggestions. They were going to lose the safety the penthouse provided with combo locks and front lobby staff twenty-four-seven. The first thing Az had requested was something gated, preferably away from others, and large enough to host their entire family in spare bedrooms. He would be able to add in the additional security, but this was the foundation of what they were searching for.

To put it lightly, they were running around like crazy trying to get things in order.

Elain was eternally grateful for her husband who could drop everything to take care of things. Perks of being the CEO, she chuckled to herself. He was going to meet her here later on that evening to pick her and Kaden up, wanting to be the one to bring him to the penthouse for the first time.

Finding that Kaden loved being read to, they had already put together a full bookshelf in his bedroom filled with books of various sizes and reading levels, along with too many stuffed animals, a boatload of other toys, and, of course, clothing. They had stocked up on items for him to last through the next year, even with the possibility of him growing.

Elain was sitting next to his hospital bed, reading him a story about giving a mouse a cookie. She was nowhere near the level of enthusiasm that Azriel had provided when he read “The Three Little Pigs” the other day, but Kaden was enamored by her nonetheless.

A commotion at the children’s ICU front desk caught her attention and she glanced up to find a man in a suit shouting at the nurses, looking agitated, furious, and threatening.

She knew who it was immediately, snatching her phone from the front pocket of her scrubs and shooting a text to the Moonbeam twins.

SOS. Children’s ICU level 3. Now.

Her fingers stroked Kaden’s plump cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, setting the book down on her chair and striding from the room. Elain closed the curtains, shielding Kaden from view before sliding the glass door shut.

But it was too late. He had seen her and the boy and was stalking his way over to them.

Elain’s back straightened as she lifted her chin, meeting him head-on just outside the room.

“Give me my son,” he snarled.

“You mean the boy that has been here for three days and you’re just now coming to claim?”

He flicked his hand, far too close to her face for comfort but she refused to flinch. “I’m here to collect him.”

Elain’s anger flared, but she reined it in, not wanting to give him more of a reason to react violently. “If you want him, you will have to go through child protective services. Because I am not releasing him to you.”

His tanned skin flushed at her comment, his rage rising to meet her challenge. “He is my son—”

“Blood doesn’t make you a father,” she snapped.

Those green eyes took her in, narrowing to slits. “You’re the bitch trying to steal him from me.”

The breath rushed from her lungs. How did he know they were trying to adopt him?

Lorenzo’s mouth curled up in the corner with a cruel smile. “Move, the fuck, out of my way.”

He shifted to his left and she countered, stepping to her right. “No.”

His gaze snatched down her body, taking in her swollen stomach before returning to her face. “If you don’t move, I’ll make you regret it.”

Elain’s heart pounded in her chest, but like hell was she letting him anywhere near her son. Kaden was hers and Azriel’s and this pathetic excuse of a man wasn’t ever getting near him again. “Touch me and I can guarantee you’ll be in a body bag by the end of the week,” she breathed. In her peripheral, she saw Fenrys and Connall jog from the elevator, spotting her across the room. Elain swung her eyes back on Lorenzo’s face. “You’re nothing but an abusive monster and if you want to try and take him, you’ll have to go through me.”

The man swung, palm open to crack across her face.

But a golden-tanned hand snatched it around his wrist, halting him just inches from her cheek, the breeze fluttering the loose hairs over her ear.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Fenrys deep voice purred. “Her husband wouldn’t like it.” Though he sounded amused and wore a slight smirk on his face, Elain saw the darkening of his eyes. A cold look of a predator waiting to pounce.

Connall wore a similar mask, standing so close to Lorenzo’s other side that any large breath would have his chest brushing against his shoulder.

Both males had become not just good friends of hers, but rather protective too. Even more so since they found out she was pregnant. She knew that with them there, Kaden’s father couldn’t touch her.

Lorenzo glanced down at her name badge, pinned to the front pocket of her scrub top at her waist. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in that hyphenated last name.

Archeron-Knight.

Only a fool wouldn’t recognize that name, and if she was correct in her assumptions about who this man was or whom he worked for, then she knew he’d know immediately who her husband was.

She saw the recognition flash across his face; the hint of fear too before he quickly tried to cover it up with a sneer.

Elain wanted to slap the scorn off his face, but she settled on using her words instead. “Unless you get clearance from social services, you are hereby banned from entering this hospital and trying to reach Kaden. If you step foot in that lobby, I’ll be sure to have you thrown out.”

His nostrils flared furiously, but before he could respond, she looked at Fenrys and nodded toward the exit behind them. “Get him out of here.”

Connall gripped his other arm as they lugged him away, curse words falling from his lips faster than she could hear them.

Her heart raced beneath her ribcage at how close it came. He would’ve hit her to get to her boy had the twins not interfered. But Elain would’ve taken it if it meant protecting the little one behind her. Taking a few steadying breaths to slow her heart rate, she turned and slipped back into Kaden’s hospital room.

He was still awake, green and hazel eyes wide with fear. It was obvious that despite the closed door, he had heard his father’s voice.

“He’s gone,” she murmured, slowly approaching his side. “You’re safe with me.”

As soon as she sat on the edge of the bed, he curled into her side, little hands gripping her scrubs. “You stay wiff me?” he asked her in such a soft voice, she almost missed it.

Elain’s chest tightened at him finally speaking. At being comfortable enough to open up to her. She carded her fingers through his soft, inky hair. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll stay with you.”

And she did, notifying Thesan to remove her from the rotation for the rest of the day while they waited for her husband to arrive that evening.

~~~~~

Blood sprayed, showering his torso in tiny, red droplets. He felt his knuckles split at last as he threw another punch into Elias’s jaw, tooth cracking.

Azriel withdrew into the darkest corner of his mind, the place he firmly kept buried deep and only brought to the surface when his fury needed a bloody and brutal outlet. It was the tainted part of his soul that was bred and honed into him as a child. Brought upon by fists and fire.

His father made sure of it.

So did his brothers.

When he delved into the monster, he felt nothing. Became nothing. He had to in order to inflict the pain, the torture, on those who crossed him. Az didn’t let himself think about her, about their growing family. He couldn’t taint their image with the cruel, twisted version of himself that he turned into.

No matter that the man deserved every single ounce of brutalized agony he delivered. Azriel had always used violence as a method for managing his anger. Some may have called it an “unhealthy coping mechanism,” but was truly the only outlet for his fury. It was the reason why he and Cassian would spar as teens, his elder brother the only one of the two who could really throw down with him when he needed to release his pent-up rage.

As an adult, he didn’t let himself cross that bridge too often—at least not anymore—but it was even less so since she had reentered his life. For her, he tried to be a better man, wanted to be, and typically let Ruhn handle the dirty side of things.

But not for this. Not after what he did to his wife. Tried to do to his unborn children. Those acts were unforgivable and Elias would pay for it with his life.

Eventually.

The man spat it on the floor, grinning savagely up at him, despite the fact that he was tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse and hours from death. “Is this how we end things, Azriel? You kill me to satisfy some sick fantasy?”

It had taken Ruhn a while to finally track down Elias’s hiding spot. Some secluded cabin way out of the city. But once he finally caught the trail, he tailed him like a rabid dog until he captured him for good.

He readjusted the sleeve of his right arm, pushing it back up to his elbow. His scarred fingers stained red. “Oh, Elias, how blindly imprudent you are,” he taunted, throwing another punch and nailing him square in the nose.

To Elias’s credit, he didn’t yell or shout, simply hissed, spitting more blood onto the tarped ground.

“This isn’t some fantasy. This is revenge for what you did to my wife. You signed up for this the first time you put your filthy hands on her.” Az grabbed a knife off a nearby crate, flipping it once between his thick fingers. “You will beg for death before I grant it to you,” he snarled, embedding the blade into the top of his thigh.

This time, Elias did scream, fight it as he might, the pain, the surge of blood were too much for him to hold back. His head tilted back in agony as Azriel yanked the dagger out and plunged it into his other leg.

Elias’s body tensed, fighting the restraints that would never give, as he sucked in heavy, rasping breaths. “We were supposed to have been partners,” he wheezed between clenched teeth.

“No. I was forced into a partnership with your uncle. Not you. I gave you a way out and you chose to throw my generosity in my face.” His lips curled up slightly at the corner in a sinful smirk. “Your downfall is on you, Elias. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”

The dimmed fire reignited in those dark eyes at his words. “Your slut is to blame,” he spat with a renewed vengeance.

Quick as a flash, Azriel had his large hand wrapped around the man’s throat, squeezing until Elias’s face turned an ungodly shade of red. His body twitched under the force, but Az didn’t give in an inch as he struggled and fought to breathe. Leaning forward until his lips were nearly touching his ear, he whispered, “If I were you, I would choose your words very carefully. Nobody refers to my wife in such a manner without consequence.” The smirk turned sinister as he watched Elias turn from red to purple. “It’s not so fun being on the other side of this, is it?” he mocked, knowing how Elias put his soiled hands on his wife’s neck, bruising her pale flesh for almost two weeks.

He tightened his hold, squeezing the thrashing man with a sick vengeance. He could’ve easily snapped his hyoid. Literally choke him to death. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying enough and only released his throat when he was on the verge of passing out.

Elias choked on his air, coughing with the might of his lungs. “Your fucking bitch,” he wheezed with as much venom as he could muster.

Ripping the dagger still protruding from his thigh, Azriel gripped his hand and twisted the index sideways until a distinctive snapping sound echoed in the warehouse. Pressing the blade into the joint, he began to cut, severing skin, tendon, and bone.

Hands flexing beneath his grip, screams tore from Elias’s mouth, loud enough that Az was surprised his voice hadn’t given out. Maybe he should’ve shattered that when he crushed his windpipe; at least then he could’ve had some peace and quiet. But he didn’t stop until he dropped the amputated digit onto the floor in the pooling blood that stained the bottom of his dress shoes red.

He moved to Elias’s other side, intending to even out his hands when the ringing of a phone cut through the air. His eyes flashed to Ruhn, leaning on the wall while letting him exact his revenge.

Ruhn pulled Az’s phone that he’d been holding onto out of his pocket. “It’s Connall.”

He stuffed a gag into Elias’s mouth, effectively silencing him before wiping his hands on a rag and taking the phone from Ruhn’s outstretched hand. “Connall,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“Azriel,” he started. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s been a situation.”

His heart plummeted into his stomach. “Is Elain okay? Is she hurt? What about Kaden?”

“Everyone is fine and safe. We had an unexpected visitor today.”

His eyes flashed to Ruhn, though he knew the other man couldn’t hear the conversation. “Who?” he gritted out.

“Kaden’s biological father, Lorenzo, showed up and caused a scene. We’ve removed him from the premises, but I thought you ought to know.”

Another name to add to his list. Azriel swore if one more person went after his wife or family, he was going to lose his shit and rain hellfire on this fucking world. “Did he lay a hand on either of them?”

The very distinct pause had another blood-thirsty sense of fury washing over him. “No,” Connall finally admitted. “He attempted to strike her, but Fenrys caught his arm before it connected. They are both physically unharmed, though by the way she’s comforting Kaden, it appears he may not be emotionally or mentally.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be in this afternoon to pick them up—Kaden is coming home with us today. Until I get there, I want at least one of you stationed outside of his room and the other monitoring Elain.”

“Already done. Elain informed us that she has requested the rest of the day off and is sticking by his side. We’re posted on either side of his door. Nobody in or out that’s not approved by her.”

The twins deserved a raise, he realized, noting that detail for later. “Thank you, Connall. For the update and keeping them safe. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Always, Azriel.”

The line went dead and he had to take a breath to settle himself. Too many emotions had risen to the surface and he needed to separate himself again to finish what he started. But as he turned to face Elias once more, his overwhelming need to make him suffer hours—if not days—of torture vanished.

He didn’t need to torture the man. Az just needed him dead. “It’s your lucky day, Elias,” he said, striding over to rip the gag from his mouth. “My desire to torture just took on a new face.”

Some sick satisfaction swept over him at the hope that lit Elias’s dark eyes. Because he knew the man thought Azriel was going to let him go, and he was about to rip that dream of freedom right out from underneath him. “Which means, your life has served its purpose.”

True terror blanketed Elias’s face and before he could even voice a shout, Azriel snatched the dagger from the crate where he left it and slashed it across his throat.

Elias choked on his blood, drowning in it as it poured from his lips.

Dropping the knife on the ground, he turned his back on the dying man and told Ruhn, “Bury him on top of his uncle. So, the beginning and the end of their regime can meet in death.”

He left the warehouse without another word, letting Ruhn handle the cleanup and dealing with the body.

As the sunlight warmed his skin on his walk to his car, Azriel released the mask of his inner demon and summoned his true self back into its place. The man who loved his wife and their growing family. He let out a heavy breath, breathing out all of the darkness from his soul. Climbing into the car, he drove away from the warehouse and did not look back. 

~~~

Azriel had done his research in the short time since deciding to proceed with the adoption, needing to know what they would face by taking in Kaden. Lorenzo was, in fact, a part of the Illyrian Mob, though he wasn’t ranked high. He had about three superiors before he reached Nick, let alone Frankie. His death wouldn’t even cause a stir in their pyramid of power.

A kernel of knowledge he kept in the back of his mind because that’s what he signed up for when he went after Elain and Kaden. His death by Az’s hands. Another stain on his blackened soul, but he would taint it for her. For them. He’d carry the weight of the world if it kept his wife and family safe.

But that would come at another time. Right now, he had to focus on the boy they would be bringing home that night. He pulled into a parking spot outside the hospital and climbed out of the car. He and Elain spent the morning installing the booster seat in the back for Kaden before she left for work, and he did a last-minute glance over to make sure everything was ready. Snatching the small backpack filled with proper clothing inside, Azriel strolled into the front lobby of the hospital.

He took the elevator up to the third floor, nodding at the Moonbeam brothers who stood guard outside of Kaden’s room and knocked on the door.

Elain waved him in with a smile on her face as she got up off the stool to greet him. “Hello, Az.” She swooped in for a sweet kiss, his hand automatically settling onto her rounded stomach.

“Hello, my love,” he grinned, leaning forward for another small peck of her lips.

Her eyes glanced down at the hand cradling her belly. Her fingers grazed the fresh wounds that littered across his knuckles. “What happened?”

Azriel twisted his wrist to grip her palm, bringing it up to plant a soft kiss there. “Just work stuff.”

She frowned but didn’t ask him to elaborate. Elain was intelligent and could easily guess how he split his knuckles. But she knew better than to bring it up in front of their little boy, who was watching them closely.

Knowing that he came from a rough home, they made sure to show their affection to each other in his presence, wanting him to know that he was joining a loving home.

Azriel looked around her shoulder, smiling at Kaden sitting on the bed. “Hello, Kaden. I brought you something to wear.” He stepped forward, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a pair of pants, a long-sleeve shirt, socks, and sneakers, that he hoped fit him.

Elain moved to shut the curtain, offering them some privacy as they helped change him from his hospital gown to street clothes. “I’m going to put your bear in your backpack to take him home, okay?” she said, showing him the stuffed toy being placed in the dinosaur backpack.

Kaden’s dark hair rumpled when he tugged the shirt over his head and Az couldn’t help but chuckle as it fell into his eyes. He’d need a haircut soon.

His little hand rose to push it back, but a shy smile tugged on his lips.

Azriel felt his heart soar from that smile. He hadn’t been offered one yet, but spending the last few days here with him had helped tremendously. Kneeling, he helped put his shoes on, tying the laces, and then carefully lifted him off the bed and onto his feet. “Shall we go home now?” he asked.

Kaden immediately took Elain’s offered hand, but he was surprised when he felt small fingers wrap around his pinky. Azriel looked down to find the boy staring up at him.

Every single worry he had about this kid not accepting him as his father vanished from that moment on. He was his, no matter his blood, and Az would do anything to keep it that way. Nobody was ever going to take his son away from him and Elain.

He pushed the curtain aside and opened the sliding glass door, tugging his little family into motion. The Moonbeam brothers fell into step behind them, always guarding their backs but now with even more reason and focus. Azriel had seen the way they stepped up in their protection detail since Elain had gotten pregnant, and he knew that their dedication would extend to Kaden tenfold.

They rode down the elevator in comfortable silence, a pleasant hum running through his body. Viviane looked up at them when they made it to the nurses’ station, a smile pulling on her lips and she clapped Elain on the shoulder as they passed.

At the car, he kissed his wife’s cheek, murmuring for her to get in as he lifted Kaden and strapped him into the booster seat. He ruffled his hair with a large, scarred palm, catching that green-flecked gaze.

Closing the door, Az dismissed Fenrys and Connall for the weekend before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Elain asked, turning to look at the boy in the back.

Azriel glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as he took in the sights around him. “Steak with mac and cheese,” he said out loud, pulling out of his parking spot.

She rubbed a hand over the swell of her stomach. “One baby agrees with that decision very much.” Her light laughs echoed in the car, and he reached over to feel the hard kick from one of the twins.

A little fighter, that one was.

Elain’s cravings had varied throughout the pregnancy. In the beginning, she wanted nothing but carbs. Then she was into Mexican, and Az spent a lot of time making bean and cheese burritos at two in the morning when she woke up hungry. But right now it was barbeque. Steak was his go-to, but last week, she was dipping chicken breast into frosting because, apparently, it was sweet and savory. He had to hide his disgust over the last one, but the image of her utter happiness while eating it brought a smile to his lips.

When they made it to the penthouse, Azriel immediately went to light the barbeque and put the mac and cheese in the oven while Elain gave Kaden a tour of the downstairs living area. Once finished, they walked him up the stairs to her old bedroom where he would temporarily be staying until they bought a new place. “This is your room, Kaden,” he said, opening the door and allowing him to slowly shuffle his way in.

Green and gold eyes went wide at the outrageous display. To be fair, he and Elain might have gone a bit overboard on things to buy, but they wanted to make sure Kaden felt at home and well-loved.

Az had put together two bookshelves against the far wall that were nearly overflowing. A rocking chair sat with them so that they could read together in the evenings before bed. A basket full of stuffed toys sat in the corner, and a large shelving unit was placed next to the dresser and contained everything from a dinosaur set to blocks to racecars.

They had decided to keep the queen-sized bed in there for now, not having had the time to replace it, nor wanting to. So, they purchased kid sheets instead, with a cartoon character on them that he couldn’t remember at the moment.

Truthfully, the bedroom looked like it belonged on the cover of a home décor magazine, but their only concern was comfort.

Kaden glanced up at them, waiting for permission.

“Go on,” Az encouraged him with a gentle nudge on his back.

The little boy ran for the boxes on the shelves, opening the tubs they had organized before sliding them back. He then took off for the plush toys, digging around until he found a stuffed dog.

The squeal he let out had warmth flooding his body and Az turned to share a look with his wife, whom he could tell was experiencing the same kind of utter joy.

Kaden stopped at the bookshelves, roaming the selection before he carefully placed his dog on the rocker and then ran back to them. He threw his arms first around Elain’s legs, making her choke out a sob, and then carefully around his, almost as if nervous to show affection towards him.

Az’s throat grew thick with unshed tears and he crouched to put himself at eye level, holding out his arms to see if he would embrace him.

The little one hesitated for a second before he slowly stepped into his chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. Azriel held him tightly to his body. Felt the heaviness of his worries that this boy wouldn’t accept him disappeared within that embrace.

“We’re happy to have you home with us, buddy,” Azriel whispered, pressing his lips to the side of his son’s head.

His son.

The words hadn’t hit him until that very moment. But as he clutched that little body to his torso, he realized how right it felt to think it. To say it.

Elain sniffed, carding her fingers through Kaden’s soft hair. “Go play, sweetheart. We’ll come to get you when dinner is ready.”

Azriel released him, letting him toddle off back for the assorted containers. He stood back up and wrapped an arm around her waist as they watched him a moment longer explore his new bedroom. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

Though it was obvious that both of them wanted to stay, they also agreed to give Kaden some space to settle in, so it didn’t feel like they were hovering over him.

Elain padded to their bedroom to swap into some comfier clothes while he went back downstairs to throw the steaks onto the barbeque. They busied themselves in the kitchen, listening to Kaden’s imagination run wild up the stairs. Though not loud, it was something they both kept sharing shy smiles over.

“He seems to love it,” she breathed.

He looked over at her. “You did well in picking out stuff for him. I don’t think I would’ve had any of the right toys.”

Elain laughed softly, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’ll get better at it as you grow into your role as a father.”

They harmoniously worked together to finish prepping dinner, basking in their contented silence—it wouldn’t be long until the silence became a rarity for them—and it wasn’t until a distinct crashing sound had him racing up the stairs, two at a time.

Az threw open the bedroom door.

Kaden whipped around, looking guilty and nervous at the blocks knocked onto the floor. It was clear he had accidentally dropped the container as he pulled it off the shelf.

His son slowly took a step back, like he thought he was in trouble. The evident fear made his stomach clench, sorrow and range dancing through him at the mere thought of somebody harming this child for making any sort of sound.

Elain gripped his shoulder and he glanced at her, seeing that same worry on her face.

He turned back toward the little boy, hoping to calm him. “Are you all right?” Az asked carefully.

A minute passed, then another until finally, they received a silent nod in confirmation.

“We thought maybe you got hurt,” he tried explaining. “You’re not in trouble.”

Those shoulders relaxed slightly.

How often did he get hit or shoved or yelled at, simply for being a kid? It made his heart ache and his blood boil for vengeance on Kaden’s biological father. That man had a limited number of days before Az sought him out.

“Dinner will be ready soon, sweetheart,” Elain cooed, offering him a sweet smile that seemed to provide him some semblance of ease. She gently closed the door and they both paused, holding their breath to see if he would continue playing. After a moment’s hesitation, they heard a car being rolled across the hardwood floor.

She gripped his hand, tugging him down the stairs. “It’ll take some time to adjust to his every sound, but I think we can hold off on running up the stairs whenever he makes a peep,” she teased, shooting him a grin over her shoulder that didn’t touch her eyes. Because she knew as well as him the horrors their little boy faced in his short lifetime already.

Az sighed more to himself than anyone else. “After everything he’s been through, I can’t help but want to make sure he’s okay, one hundred percent of the time.”

“That’s fatherhood calling you, Azriel. Our kids are going to get scrapes and bumps and bruises. That’s just a part of childhood. The best we can do is just make sure we’re there to bandage them up and kiss away the hurt.”

He stopped her, turning her around to kiss her softly. She melted into it. “You are my rock, El.”

Her breath teased his lips as she looped her arms around his neck, securing him to her. “And you’re mine.”

Azriel felt those words settle into his heart and spread all over his body. Warmth and love and the undying faith that he knew to be true. Together, they could take on the world.

~~~~~

The next few weeks had been a blur. Kaden blossomed under their care, speaking to them in a quiet voice, though they could tell he was a bit behind in his speech. They hired a speech therapist who worked with him three days a week after school. Kaden loved school, even if he was shy with the other kids, and they did find out he’d never attended one before, which also explained his developmental delays. He mostly kept close to his teacher, who had been informed of his past and fears, but a few of the kids in his class kept trying to engage with him and only the day before were they informed that he accepted an invite to play with one of the other children.

After dinner, they’d each take turns reading to him and with him, hoping to help catch him up to his classmates. Both Kaden’s teacher and speech therapist had recommended it, and she and Azriel would do everything in their power to help their boy succeed. And though he was calling them by their given names now, they were working toward momma and daddy.

It was progress, Elain had said one night. “Every day, I see a little bit more of the boy he’s supposed to be.”

There were a few rough challenges they had to handle. About a week and a half into living with them, Kaden woke up late evening with a nightmare. Elain didn’t think she would ever forget it…

Azriel was on his side, head propped on his fist as he spoke to her belly. It was something he did every night, wanting the babies to hear his voice as much as possible. Sometimes he read them stories, sometimes he sang, and other times he just told them about his day and how much he couldn’t wait to meet them. Whatever it was, Elain always had to choke back tears at the love and joy that shone on his face when he talked with their children.

It was nearing eleven o’clock when they heard Kaden’s desperate scream.

Her husband launched out of bed, tearing down the hallway to reach their son’s bedroom. Elain hurried behind him, though her waddling—yes, she was fucking waddling now—slowed her down a bit. When she reached his room, Az already had Kaden’s crying form tucked into his chest.

“You’re okay, Kaden. You’re safe. Nobody will ever hurt you again,” he murmured, pressing kisses to the top of his head. His golden eyes met hers, blazing with a fury she only saw when his family was threatened. “Love, can you get some clean sheets out?”

Her brows raised in surprise, but with the hallway light on, she could see the dark stain on the bed where their son had wet himself from fear. Elain’s heart ached, but she nodded, slipping to the cupboard just outside the door and pulling out new linens.

She set the bedding on the dresser and then headed into the bathroom to start the water in the tub. “I’ll trade you,” Elain said, indicating for the child.

With one last kiss on his head, Azriel placed Kaden into her arms and began stripping the bed of its soiled sheets.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She rubbed his back in comfort, hoping it would slow the tears still rolling down his red cheeks. Once he calmed down enough, Elain helped him out of his pajamas and got him into the bathtub.

As she was gathering his clothes from the floor, he asked her, “Is Azweel going to punish me?”

Her head snapped up, catching Azriel in the mirror whirling around in shock at the question. She could read the devastation on his face. The hurt of being associated with that monster. Knowing she had to carefully address this, Elain knelt by Kaden at the edge of the tub. “No, sweetie,” she murmured, running a hand through his soft hair. “Azriel isn’t going to punish you, sweetheart. It was an accident.”

It became clear that this wasn’t the first time Kaden had an accident and received corporal punishment for it. A level of anger she’d never felt before kindled in her gut as Kaden’s bottom lip quivered.

Gathering his clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom, finding the bed already remade, and Azriel standing there looking as if he’d been slapped.

“He thinks I’m going to punish him?” he asked in disbelief.

But that wasn’t quite right. “No, he believes that he will be punished for an accident because he likely has been before. You are stepping into the role of his father, Az. It’s going to take some time for him to see the difference in how you respond to things versus the man who sired him. He will see it, though. I promise you that he will.”

Az chewed on his bottom lip, a habit he did when he was anxious about something. “Should I go in there?” he worried.

“I think it’s important that you do.”

He nodded, picking up the clean sleepwear for his son, and stepped into the bathroom.

Elain tossed the soiled pajamas into the hamper before leaning against the wall, just outside the bathroom to listen to her husband.

“Hey, buddy. You ready to get out now?” Azriel kept his voice whisper-soft, not wanting to give Kaden anything to worry about.

Water sloshed and she heard the distinct sound of the drain popping.

“I heard you ask momma if I was going to punish you…” there was a pregnant pause and she held her breath for the rest of that sentence. “No matter what, Kaden, I will never punish you like that. Whatever happens, I promise you that you won’t ever have to fear me, okay? I love you so much, Kaden. And I will always, always protect you.”

A wave of tears washed over her, rolling down her cheeks. Damn hormones. She glanced into the bathroom, catching Kaden as he slipped his arms around Az’s neck, hugging him tightly.

Her husband rose to his feet, still clutching their son in his arms. He turned, catching her watching them, and shot her a pleading look.

Elain knew what he was asking her for. Could read his desire to continue holding his son. So, she reached out a hand for him. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

They walked back down to their bedroom, Az lying down on his back so Kaden could sleep on his chest. Elain snuggled in next to him, her hand rubbing up and down their son’s spine until he drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

“You’re good with him,” she whispered.

“We’re good with him,” he amended. “I don’t think I could let him go, now.” He left the rest unspoken. How, if social services didn’t approve of the adoption, they would fight until their dying breath to change their minds. Because like hell were they letting anyone take their boy away.

But she didn’t doubt that they would be seen as the best thing for Kaden. And she would use that confidence to power through their interview which could change their lives forever.

Much like the little boy sleeping on her husband already had.

Elain blinked, drawing herself from her memory. They were on their way to the adoption interview, and though she had confidence that this would go their way, it didn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in her stomach from her nerves.

Almost as if he could sense it, a large, scarred hand reached across the console to squeeze her knee. Az glanced at her once before returning his eyes to the road. His touch instantly soothed the anxiety running through her.

“Ewain,” Kaden called from the backseat.

She twisted her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we get ice cweam?”

Azriel let out a chuckle as she smiled at the little boy. “I think we can do that after the interview.”

“Yay!” he cheered, throwing his arms into the air and kicking his feet wildly in his booster seat. Despite fall having rolled in a few weeks earlier, summer had yet to lessen it’s hold on the city and a cold bowl of ice cream did sound appetizing.

At that, her husband laughed, deeply and so full of love as they pulled into the parking lot of the social services office. Azriel collected Kaden from the back who grabbed both of their hands, nearly swinging between them as they walked into the building.

“Mr. and Mrs. Archeron-Knight. Welcome,” a woman said from behind the front desk. “Please follow me.” She escorted them to the back into a private room. Half of it was set up with a couch, desk, and two chairs, while the other half was clearly designed for children, including a small table with coloring utensils and a cubby holding various toys. “The interviewer will be in shortly. Please make yourself comfortable.”

They moved to sit on the couch together, Az gripping her elbow to ease her down. The joys of being pregnant with twins.

“Can I go pway?” Kaden asked, shooting them those puppy-dog eyes that neither could resist. They were definitely in for trouble with that face.

“Of course,” she told him, brushing a curl behind his ear.

He went straight to the table, grabbing a coloring book and some crayons to occupy himself, humming lowly while his feet swung beneath his chair. Kaden had a love of art; something his Aunt Feyre would go nuts for.

“We’ll have to get him more coloring supplies,” Azriel murmured, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

A knock sounded from the door before it was opened, revealing a young woman with dark hair braided back, and a beautifully tanned complexion that could only be from her heritage.

She smiled brightly at them. “Hello Azriel and Elain. My name is Nesryn. It’s lovely to meet you both.”

At the sound of a new voice, Kaden’s head whipped up and he quickly made his way back over to them, wiggling to place himself between their bodies.

Her brows raised in response to his shyness.

“Kaden is still a bit uncomfortable with strangers,” Elain said, running her hand along his back as he buried his face into her torso. “We’re taking it slow in introducing him to people so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”

Nesryn’s lips turned up at the corner. “I can’t say that’s entirely a bad thing, or surprising for that matter given his history.” She took a seat opposite of them, using the table as a buffer between her and their son. “I took a look through his file and, frankly, the number of past injuries is highly concerning. I know that Emerie was originally on his case, and she will be conducting his interview because I believe she may have a better chance at working with him but given her close relationship with you, Elain, she’s asked me to conduct your interviews to prevent any biases.”

She nodded. “I think that’s fair.”

Flipping open the file in front of her, Nesryn leaned back in her seat and asked, “So, why do you want to adopt Kaden?”

They shared a look before Azriel responded. “To put it point blank, he’s our son, without a doubt.”

“When Kaden was first brought into the hospital, I connected with him instantly,” Elain added. “He seemed timid with the nurses and other doctors, but with me, he relaxed. I knew from that initial meeting that he was brought into our lives for a reason. Even with his nervousness around men, he opened up to Azriel fairly quickly too. Almost as if he knew he could trust us to love him.”

Nesryn nodded, noting something down in her file. “And how has he progressed with you since he’s been living with you?”

“He’s communicating with us, will tell us what he wants to eat, and asks if he can do something. His food intake is good and I can see he’s beginning to put on some healthy weight,” Az explained. “He’ll sit with us as we read bedtime stories and let us kiss him goodnight.”

She smiled. “It sounds like you have a solid routine for him, would you agree?”

Elain tucked her foot behind her ankle. “Yes. We try to keep a set schedule with him as much as possible. Dinner time, bedtime, when we wake him up to get ready for the day.”

“How’s he sleeping?”

Azriel glanced at her, a question in his eyes and she nodded. “There was an incident the first week. He woke up one evening with a nightmare so terrifying for him that he wet the bed.” Nesryn’s brow cocked, but she didn’t interrupt. “We comforted him, cleaned him up, and put new sheets on his bed, but it was a question he asked that concerned us…”

“What was the question?”

He sighed, lips parting. He hated having to admit this, but it was important to be honest with the social worker. They had discussed whether or not to talk about that night earlier and decided if it was brought up, then they would. “He asked Elain if I was going to punish him.”

Nesryn noted that down and he fought the hackles that rose as a result. “Did you punish him?”

The question caught him off guard. “No! Of course not. He didn’t do anything wrong and I would never punish him in the way he was asking.”

“What way is that?”

“We believe corporal punishment was used on him in instances like this,” Elain spoke up, seeing how the question twisted at Az’s insides. “After he asked me that, Azriel went to speak with him and reassured him that he would never punish him like that. That he would always protect him.”

The woman smiled. “That was probably the best thing you could’ve offered him at that moment.” She turned her dark eyes onto her husband. “I don’t ask these questions to pry or to insinuate anything, Azriel, but just to get a feeling of how well you two respond to it. I could see that you were upset by that question and I wanted to make myself clear. You both have shown me that you would make excellent guardians for Kaden already.”

She flipped through her file, checking off a few boxes. “Now, I do need to address the obvious.” Her eyes flashed to Elain’s rounded stomach before returning to meet their gaze. “You’re expecting in a few months. That’s a hefty change for you both. How do plan to balance having newborns with a newly adopted child at the same time, along with the additional financial obligations that come with it?”

“You don’t need to worry about the financial aspect. We are more than capable of handling whatever expenses come our way,” Az told her.

Nesryn huffed a knowing laugh. “True, but I’m still required to ask it.” It was no secret to her how wealthy they were.

“As for balance, I think it’s important to note that even though Kaden will not be our biological son, at no point will he ever feel like there’s a difference in the love we show him in comparison to the twins. He will always be our son, no matter what. And we will do everything we can to ensure that he’s settled, included, and as much a part of our family as anyone else. There is no limit to the love we can give him.” Elain said each and every word with her whole heart, feeling Azriel take her hand as they huddled closer to the little boy still sitting between them.

“While Elain will be taking a generous maternity leave, I will also be taking two months off from work to be at home after the twins are born. And then will work from home for a good portion of the few months after while we establish a rhythm, to settle with our three children, and to make sure that Kaden is as comfortable as possible.”

Her whole face lit up with a smile. “I’m happy to hear that. Many fathers aren’t able to take time off like that and adjust their schedule to help out, so knowing you plan to, I believe will make all the difference in adjusting to your new life.” She skimmed through her notes and then closed the file. “Well, I must admit that you two would make wonderful parents to Kaden. I don’t have any concerns with approving your adoption of him.”

The air whooshed from Elain’s lungs in one giant breath. Relief and happiness and so many other emotions rushed through her until her eyes grew misty. “Thank you, Nesryn. That means a lot to us. Truly.”

“Always a pleasure.” She stood from her seat. “I’ll send Emerie in for Kaden’s interview now. You two will need to step out of the room for it, so we can try and get unbiased answers from him.” She indicated to the mirror on the side of the room. “You’ll be able to watch through there. His interview won’t be as extensive as yours was.”

“And if he doesn’t answer her questions?” Az asked, nervous for the same reason she was. Would that affect their ability to adopt him if he refused to speak?

“His questioning is just to get an idea of how he’s feeling. If he doesn’t respond, then we will notate that and go with just your interview.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

A moment after she bid them farewell, the door opened and Emerie walked in. “Good morning,” she beamed, stepping up to the coffee table. “I was hoping that perhaps Kaden and I could chat over there,” she pointed towards the area where he’d been coloring earlier.

Elain glanced at the boy, still tucked against her side. “Do you want to go color again?” she asked him softly, brushing his hair back.

Kaden peeked up at her, his green-speckled eyes wide. He dipped his chin in confirmation.

They got him set up at the table to continue his drawing from earlier when Az knelt next to him. “All right, buddy. Emerie here wants to talk with you for a minute by yourself. Momma and I will be right outside the door if you need us. Okay?”

Elain kissed the top of his head on her way out the door. They made their way to the side room where the one-way glass was, watching as Emerie made attempts to communicate with their son.

“Do you like living with Elain and Azriel?” she asked him as she worked on her own drawing. Nesryn explained that it helped reduce the anxiety of feeling interrogated.

Kaden nodded, not looking up from his drawing.

Silent communication was better than no communication, she thought, relieved to see that he did like being with them.

Azriel gripped her hand in his large, warm one.

“What do you like about living with them?” she encouraged, picking up a new color.

He was quiet for a moment, then told her, “They’re nice.”

“He’s talking to her,” she breathed, throat constricting with emotion. They had done that. They had broken through his barriers to help him speak.

“Nice, huh? Was your dad not nice?”

Az shot a look at her, puzzled by the question.

Kaden shook his head, grabbing a yellow crayon, but didn’t elaborate. Not that she expected him to. Elain realized early on that Kaden didn’t like to talk about his biological father, even with them. She hoped that in time, he would open up about it, but they weren’t going to push the subject with him.

“Did he hit you?” Emerie asked quietly.

His coloring slowed, eyes never straying from the paper in front of him.

She reached out to touch his hand, but he snatched it away from her. “You can tell me, sweetie. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I don’t fucking like this,” Az growled, tensing as she pushed their son into speaking.

“Did he hit you, Kaden?”

His head snapped up, crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks. “Where’s Azweel? I want Azweel!” he shouted, voice cracking in desperation.

Elain felt that pain in the pit of her stomach; her husband already moving.

“Fuck this shit,” he snarled, throwing open the door to the interview room and hurrying to collect his son.

“Azriel!” Emerie started.

“This interview is over,” he snapped, cradling Kaden’s crying form to his chest.

Elain reached his side, her palm running along Kaden’s arm in comfort as he clung to his father’s neck

Emerie rose from her chair, arms crossing. “I know that it’s hard to watch, but if we can get a verbal statement from him, admitting to his father’s abuse, we have a stronger case against him!”

“Do not raise your voice in his presence,” he said forcefully. “What you’re doing isn’t helping him. He’s not ready to talk about what he went through and I will not stand by and watch him have to relive his abuse when he is not ready for it.” Azriel was a force to be reckoned with when it came to his family. “I don’t think you understand the trauma a child goes through after living in an abusive household. We have worked so hard to get him to open up to us, to progress forward, and if you push him, we’re going to lose all the growth we’ve made.”

“If and when he’s ready to talk, we will be there for him, but we’re not going to continue like this,” Elain added, standing with her husband on this.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Nesryn walked in, skin turned a ghastly pale color. She held her phone in her hand as she looked at them all. “We don’t need to worry about building a case against him…”

Emerie frowned. “Why?”

“Because they just found Lorenzo’s body.”

~~~

They were silent in the car, the last hour replaying over and over in her mind. After hearing the news about Kaden’s biological father, chaos broke out. Phones were ringing and both Emerie and Nesryn were arguing with their superiors about how nothing changed their minds.

Elain, for a brief second, thought she was going to lose her son in the madness. Only Azriel’s strong presence at her side kept her from breaking down completely. But when the dust settled, they received the stamp of approval for Kaden’s adoption.

She had wept with joy, kissing her husband, still holding their son to his chest, before she descended upon Kaden’s head until he giggled at her.

But now, as they were headed home, having stopped to grab an ice cream to go, she couldn’t stop the question from passing her lips. “Did you do it?” Elain asked, glancing at Azriel behind the wheel.

His eyes shot to hers for a brief second before returning to the road. “No,” he told her honestly. “No matter that he deserved it and I should’ve.” Azriel’s words held a dark and dangerous tone and she knew that he would’ve ended that man if the opportunity had presented itself to him. Not just for their son, but for the time Lorenzo nearly attacked her too.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. Elain couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting Lorenzo dead. The man had tortured the sweet boy in the back seat for years. Left hurt, scared, and to fend for himself. She saw a lot of her husband in him and she knew Az saw himself too—saw the trauma of his childhood in those green and golden eyes.

“Should we be worried?” If he didn’t end Lorenzo’s life, somebody else did. And the timing was just too coincidental for her not to have concerns.

Azriel let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Elain looked over her shoulder at the boy humming while he ate his ice cream, most of it smeared on his lips. His feet kicked happily over the edge of his booster seat.

“No matter who did it, nothing will ever happen to him, El. I promise you that.”

She looked back at her husband. “I never doubted that. I’m just worried at why it was done.”

He grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Let’s not think about it right now and focus on our growing family.” Az ran his thumb over the back of her palm. “We need to let our siblings know.”

Elain pulled her phone from her purse. “I know. I was thinking of dinner. What about tomorrow night? You could barbeque again—ooh, barbeque…” Her mind wandered to Az’s grilled specialties, which he made for her three times a week to curb her cravings.

His chuckle pulled her mind back from thoughts of food and the growl in her stomach. “I can barbeque, my sweet.”

“You spoil me.”

Az’s head tipped back in a laugh. “You’re the one growing two babies inside of you. I think making your food is the least I could do.”

Her grin split her face as she typed out a message to her sisters. HerH

“Momma, I’m all done!” Kaden shouted from the backseat.

Elain whipped her head around at the name, sucking in a sharp breath. For a moment, she just stared at the little boy, replaying the sound of him calling her momma. Tears welled in her eyes and it took her a minute to realize he was holding out his empty paper bowl and spoon for her to take. With a shaking hand, she reached out and collected the carton, heart hammering in her chest.

“Tank you!” 

“You’re very welcome, sweetie,” she managed to spit out, still in shock.

Azriel pulled into their parking spot in the penthouse garage, turning off the ignition to smile broadly at her.

He called me momma, she mouthed at him.

Leaning across the console, he kissed her, cupping her jaw and letting his thumb swoop over her cheek. “You’re his momma,” he whispered only to her.

Her phone dinged twice and she lifted it to read the text from her sisters. “Dinner for tomorrow is a go,” she told him.

They glanced back at their son, oblivious to the shared moment. Tomorrow, their siblings would find out they had a new nephew. And she couldn’t wait to share the news with them.

~~~~~

Azriel was on the balcony, checking on the two chickens he had on the grill. His wife’s obsession with anything barbeque still made him smile. He did his best to mix up the way he prepped it so he and Kaden didn’t grow tired of it, but Az didn’t dare to tell his wife no when it came to whatever she was craving.

It was a quarter till six when he heard the elevator ping and made his way back inside to greet his siblings. “How do you all manage to show up at the exact same time?” he asked, sliding the glass door closed behind him.

“Impeccable timing?” Cassian supplied with his signature shit-eating grin.

Az simply rolled his eyes, calling for his wife. “Elain! Everyone is here!”

“Be right down!” she hollered back.

They had decided to have Elain bring Kaden down to meet everyone at once, hoping it would be less intimidating for him. He wasn’t sure how their family would react to the adoption, but he didn’t believe they had anything to worry about.

“We brought wine,” Feyre announced, heading towards the kitchen in search of glasses.

There was nothing he could do but let her further into the dining area, watching as she paused at the table, brow furrowing. “Az, do we have somebody else joining us? The table is set for seven.”

Before he could answer, absolute silence descended upon the room as Elain appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying what looked like a sleeping Kaden in her arms. She managed to take only three steps down before Az reached her, taking the little boy from her arms. “Come here, bud. Momma shouldn’t be carrying you right now.”

Even in his sleepy state, Kaden willingly went into Azriel’s embrace, arms sliding around his neck.

“He was asleep on the floor when I went into his room,” Elain told him, taking his elbow as they made their way down the stairs to where their gaping family awaited.

“Question,” Cassian started, looking utterly bewildered. “Did you two have a previous child that we don’t know about?”

Elain laughed softly, running her fingers through their son’s dark locks. “Everyone, we’d like for you to meet our newly adopted son, Kaden.”

Azriel turned so he could see his aunts and uncles. “Kaden,” he murmured quietly, running a hand down his back. “Kaden, this is your Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre,” he said, then turned towards their other siblings. “And your Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cassian.”

Those green eyes peeked out from his chest, glancing at the four new adults before he turned his face and buried it into his neck.

He chuckled, hoisting him up higher in his arms. “He’s a little shy.”

Their siblings remained frozen like statues. Much to his surprise, it was Nesta who managed to snap out of her reverie first, stepping forward and presenting her daughter propped on her hip. “Hello, Kaden. It’s nice to meet you. This is Sutton,” she told him, angling the almost one-year-old so he could see her better. “She’s your cousin.”

That had him turning to look at the little girl in his aunt’s arms. “Baby,” he whispered, fingers grappling with the collar of Az’s shirt.

He kissed the top of Kaden’s hair. “That’s right, buddy. She’s a baby, like what your brother and sister will be.”

“Does anybody want to explain what is going on?” Rhys demanded, startling the boy in his arms.

“Lower your voice,” Az said fiercely, taking a step back from the group to murmur words of comfort into his ear. “Would you like to go color before dinner?” he asked, already moving towards the coffee table where Kaden had left out coloring books from earlier.

He gently set his son on the floor, kneeling to kiss the side of his head before rising and ushering the adults further into the dining area to give Kaden some space.

“Kaden was brought into the hospital a while ago with a fracture to his arm that required surgery,” Elain explained. The cast had come off the previous week and his surgical site was healing well. “X-rays showed that it wasn’t his first fracture.”

“Or his second, or his third,” Az practically growled, still furious at how much the boy had suffered at the hands of his biological father.

“Four fractures?” Cassian breathed in horror.

Elain touched the back of her head. “He had one on his skull, here. Likely the result of being pushed into the corner of a low-lying table.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Because of the obvious abuse he suffered, he’s very timid around adults, particularly males. Despite that, he connected with me in the hospital. Clung to me,” his wife told them, looking at their son with such love that he had to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her close to him, wanting to bask in the warmth she radiated.

“We were approved for the adoption yesterday, and go to court in a few weeks,” Azriel announced.

Silence descended one more before Cassian cleared his throat in obvious discomfort over what he was about to say. “Not that we aren’t truly happy for you both, you do remember you’re having twins in just a short while, right?”

Elain’s eyes snapped to her brother-in-law, going impossibly dark. “Well, fuck me, Cash. I’m pregnant? Who would’ve thought?”

Azriel snorted in amusement at the hostility.

Cassian’s tanned face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that, Elain—”

“Then how did you mean?” she snapped, not even letting him finish his sentence.

It surprised him that Cash, of all the siblings, made a comment. He had always been the more accepting of the group to changes and surprises.

His brother scratched the back of his head, knowing he’d dug himself into a hole. “I just meant that newborns are a lot and you have two on the way. Taking on another child could be more than you anticipate.”

Jesus Christ his brother was burying himself in a grave.

Elain stepped out of his grasp, shooting daggers at Cassian. “Azriel and I are well aware of the responsibilities that will come with adopting a child and having newborns. We’ve discussed things endlessly to ensure that Kaden feels welcomed and loved even with the twins’ birth.” She crossed her arms as she stared him down. “But I’m curious, would we not see the level of support that we have shown you since Sutton’s birth?”

At that, Cash blanched. “Of course you would.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Elain. It was not my intention to question your ability to parent and raise three children. I know you’re more than capable of it.”

She turned her attention on the rest of the group. “Does anybody else have any opinions they’d like to address?”

A chorus of declines sounded from the rest, making him chuckle.

“Good.” Elain turned to face him. “How are we doing on the chickens?”

Azriel glanced down at his watch. “They should be done. We can start bringing stuff to the table and I’ll carve.”

His family went to scatter, Nesta slowly approaching Kaden with Sutton in her arms and asking to join him on the floor. Nesta laid her daughter on her stomach, sitting back against the couch with some toys. He watched as his son cautiously stepped toward his niece. A smile touched his lips, already seeing a life-long bond between the two children.

Feyre and Rhys followed Elain to the kitchen, helping her pull dishes from the fridge and finish setting the table.

Cash took a half-step toward his wife when Azriel reached out and snagged him by the crook of his elbow, forcing him to look back at him. He lowered his voice to ensure the others couldn’t overhear him. “Don’t you ever speak to my wife like that again,” he warned.

Regret flashed in those hazel eyes so much like his own. “It won’t happen again.”

He nodded, releasing Cash’s arm. “Good. Now help me with the chicken.”

Gathered around the table, the family welcomed their newest addition, growing more and more excited for all the new changes coming their way.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

#elriel #i do bad things with you #idbtwy #elain #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elain x azriel #elain x az #azriel x elain #elain and azriel #azriel and elain #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #tswaney17 #tswaney17fics #tay writes #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

[allthingseddie]

I Wanna Be Yours - Part Two

Part One Here Part Three Here

It had been a couple of weeks since you had confessed your feelings about Eddie to Robin and you had shoved the thoughts to the back of your mind yet again. Steve and Robin had asked both you and Eddie to come out with the two of them, like old times. This was something that almost rarely happened since Halle was born. It would usually result in just one of you going out while the other stayed home with the girl. Eddie really didn’t like leaving her at all if he could help it and you couldn’t blame him, you wanted to spend a good chunk of your time with her as well. Steve and Robin had worn Eddie and you both down together, convincing you to let Nancy to watch Halle overnight. Nancy and Johnathan had their own daughter who was right around Halle’s age, but just a little bit younger.

It was going to be Halle’s first night staying at someone other than Wayne’s house without her dad. Eddie had hesitantly agreed to the night out with his group of friends. When you all got to the hideout later that evening, the first thing he did was call Nancy and Johnathan’s to check in on her. Nancy has assured Eddie that Halle was doing great. Her and Emma were both fast asleep by now. Once he got off of the phone and handed it back to the bartender, he sat at the table with his small group of friends.

“How’s Halle?,” You ask as he sits down.

“She’s good. She’s asleep for the night so I think we’ll be okay,” He responds.

“See man, everything is under control. Relax, have a few drinks,” Steve said and handed Eddie a shot. It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t drink anymore, he liked to come home from his shift at the plant on Friday’s and have a few beers after Halle was asleep in her bed, but he hadn’t been out and gone drinking with his friends in what felt like years. Eddie took the shot Steve handed him and tried to cut loose a little bit. He was happy that you were here with him and knowing that he wasn’t the only one wanting to know the wellbeing of his daughter. He really appreciated that you cared so much for his daughter. You all take a few more shots and Eddie notices that you’re anxiously checking the time on your watch every 15 minutes or so.

“Guys c’mon, you’re in your 20’s, act like it!,” Robin said passing out more shots. You knew in the back of your head that she was right. You had taken about 3 shots at this point and started to feel the alcohol warming your body. Most other 23 year olds you knew would be out partying like this most nights of the week. Even most 25 year olds you knew were still in that phase of your life. So you knew that you and Eddie acting like you were a couple of 50 year olds was completely abnormal for your age range. A band comes on stage and Eddie glances up to see a group of guys that were probably in their early twenties starting a set.

As he watched the band play, he thought back to his own days of being in their position. He missed those days from time to time. The more those thoughts flooded his mind, the more he realized that he did deserve to have a single night of partying like the old days. The more shots Robin, the more she cheered for the band on the stage, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her when she did. Since it was a Saturday night, there were more people than normal at the Hideout, but there still wasn’t a great big crowd. Robin was really standing out amongst the crowd. She grabbed your hand and pulled you up with her to dance along to the catchy rock song that band was playing and started cheering for them even more. You laughed and felt yourself relaxing as you danced along with Robin.

“Can’t believe that that was you up there not long ago, huh?,” Steve asked Eddie and they both chuckled.

“Yeah man, it’s crazy how fast time is going by. I don’t get to play my guitar as much as I would like to anymore. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade Halle for anything in the world, but it would be nice to have some time to pick up my old hobby again and maybe even play a gig again,” Eddie responded.

“Hey man, there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to justify missing a time before your kid. You do so much for her and you deserve to have some you time,” Steve says and Eddie just nods in agreement.

“Speaking of you time, have you been talking to anyone lately?,” Steve asks Eddie. Steve seemed to be very interested in Eddie’s love life lately and he couldn’t figure out why.

“Nah, man, I don’t have time for dating,” He said, subconsciously looking over at you dancing along to the music. Steve follows his gaze and smirks.

“Uh huh, sure,” He says and chuckles. Eddie looks back at Steve and furrows his brows.

“What does that mean?,” Eddie asks.

“I just mean that maybe you’re basically in a relationship and don’t realize it,” Steve says, taking a swig of his drink.

“I am not in a relationship,” Eddie says defensively.

“Eddie, I have never had someone look at me the way you look at Y/N,” Steve states.

“I don’t look at her in a certain way. She’s my best friend and the godmother to my daughter,” Eddie responds.

“She’s basically your wife, Ed. You’re living in ignorant domestic bliss. That’s why you’re not interested in dating,” Steve chuckles again and Eddie scoffs.

“She is not my wife man,” Eddie replies.

“Okay, then tell me you’re not in love with her,” Steve says.

“I love her because she’s my best friend and has been for years,” Eddie says, not meeting Steves eyes, but not admitting his true feelings.

“Uh huh, that’s just a fancy way of saying you’re in love with her. Those almost sound like wedding vows,” Steve teases Eddie. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Hey guys, the band invited Y/N and I over for a drink to their table. We’ll be right back,” Robin says taking another shot and grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the bands table. Eddie’s eyes wander over to you as you sit down at the table next to one of the band members. He watches as he put his arms around your shoulders and orders drinks for the table and Eddie scoffs again.

“Ooh, someone’s jealous. Gonna be hard hiding those feelings now lover boy,” Steve teases Eddie again. Eddie looks at Steve with an annoyed face.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life anyways?,” Eddie asks him.

“Well, before you know it, Halle will be starting school, giving you some more free time. I just think it would be easier if you realized now that you had the girl of your dreams literally living with you and helping you raise your kid before you started trying to get back out on the dating scene,” Steve responds.

“Well thank you very much for you concern Harrington, but I’m a big boy and I can handle myself,” Eddie says, looking over at you again. You meet his eyes for a second and make a fake disgusted face at him without anyone else seeing to signal that the guy with his arm around you was getting on your nerves and he chuckled.

“Case in point. You two can literally communicate without communicating. You’re so in love with each other and oblivious its disgusting,” Steve says.

“Wait, at first you assumed that I was in love with her, now you’re assuming that she’s also in love with me?,” Eddie asks looking at Steve again.

“Takes two people to make a marriage work Eddie,” Steve says and Eddie rolls his eyes yet again ,” Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that.”

“You sound like me scolding my 4 year old,” Eddie says.

“Well she had to learn that little move from someone,” Steve responds and Eddie glares at him.

“Can we just have a fun night man?,” Eddie says taking another shot.

“Sure Ed, I’ll drop it for now,” Steve says taking a drink of his coca-cola. You and Robin come back over to the table and you give Eddie a look as you sit back down beside him.

“That guy was getting on your nerves?,” Eddie chuckles.

“More than you know. ‘Oh I’m just so good at guitar man. I’m like a prodigy, at least that’s what my mommy tells me before she tucks me in at night’,” You mock the guy who was flirting with you a few moments ago and your friends all laugh ,” I’ve never met anyone with a bigger ego.”

“Hey there was always Steve a few years ago,” Eddie laughs and it was Steves turn to roll his eyes.

“Careful, they’re gonna get stuck like that Stevie,” You say and laugh and Steve gives Eddie a look to which Eddie laughs a little harder. You all hang out at the hideout for a little longer before Steve decides to take you all to the local diner to get some food in you. He only had one drink at the beginning of the night so he could DD for everyone. You pull into the diner and make your way inside. You side on one side of the booth with Eddie while Robin and Steve sit on the other side. You all order some food and make some small talk as you wait for it to come. You are looking out the window when Eddie gently nudges you.

“Are you okay?,” He asks looking concerned.

“Do you think Halle’s sleeping through the night? She took her stuffed bunny with her right?,” You ask looking at him and he wanted to kiss you right there.

“Yeah she took it with her. I think she’ll be alright. It’s already 2am so were halfway there until she comes home anyway,” Eddie says smiling at you and rubbing his hand over your arm. You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh in relief.

“You’re right, she usually sleeps like a rock after midnight anyways,” You say and yawn yourself. Your food is finally brought to the table and you start eating your fries. The longer you sit in the diner, the more tired you get. This is the latest you have stayed up in a long time. Once you are all finished eating, Steve drops you and Eddie off at your apartment. You make your way inside and collapse on the couch.

“I’m never going out with them again,” You say as you lay your head on arm of the couch,” How can they stay out so late.”

“I am right with you there,” Eddie replies, lifting your feet and sitting down so they’re now propped on his lap. He thinks back to what Steve said to him earlier in the night about you two practically being a married couple and he couldn’t help but start to notice it a little bit himself as his hands rested on your shins and gently stroked them. Steve and Robin would never sit like this. He looked up at you and saw that you were drifting to sleep and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Alright, c’mon sweetheart, time for bed,” He said, gently nudging you awake. You begrudgingly sit up and let Eddie grab your hand to help you off the couch. You both walk down the hallway and divide into your separate bedrooms.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” He says.

“Goodnight Eds,” You say yawning shutting your bedroom door behind you. You lay in your bed and drift off to sleep after changing into some comfortable clothes.

————————————————————

“Be gentle baby.”

You are woken up the next morning by soft giggling and someone playing with your hair. You open your eyes and the first thing you see is Halle and you bring her into a sleepy hug. You open your eyes and see Eddie standing beside your bed.

“She couldn’t wait until you woke up,” He says apologetically.

“It’s okay, I wanted to come with you to get her,” You say, disappointed you didn’t get to see her sooner.

“You were snoring pretty loud so I figured I’d let you sleep in,” He says and chuckles, sitting down on the edge of your bed. You open your mouth dramatically in offense.

“I do not snore”

“Oh you so do,” Eddie responds laughing.

“Hals, do you hear the mean words your dad is saying to me?,” You ask looking at the girl.

“You snored loud,” Halle says matter-o-factly.

“Betrayal!,” You tease and tickle Halles neck. She giggles loudly and you smile widely at her.

“How about you two get ready and I take you out for brunch,” Eddie says looking at you and Halle.

“What’s wrong with how I look now Munson?,” You ask jokingly looking up at him. You know you look like a mess with your makeup from last night still on and in your mismatched clothes as you sleepily pulled out of your dresser the night before.

“You don’t match and you got spots on your face,” Halle says looking at you.

“Baby that wasn’t very nice,” Eddie says and tries to hide a laugh.

“Wow, if you ever need to be humbled, just talk to a 4 year old. But the child speaks the truth,” You say laughing. You get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You put on your best pair of sweatpants and a band t-shirt with your converse and put your hair up in a bun. You walk out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth and make your way out to the living room.

“This is as best as you’re getting today,” You say to Eddie.

“Hey you look good enough to me,” Eddie says, wearing a very similar outfit. You notice Halle is also dressed in sweatpants and a mini band t-shirt, except the outfit is paired with her rainbow sneakers.

“She wouldn’t let me put her in any other shoes,” Eddie says chuckling when he notices that you’re looking at her outfit.

“She looks great!,” You say smiling at Halle. The three of you make your way to the diner you were at the night before and order some food. It is technically yours and Eddie’s breakfast, but Halle’s lunch. The waitress comes over and sets down your drinks.

“You three are just the cutest little family. It’s adorable that you’re all matching,” She says and walks away before you can respond. This happened quite often where people assumed you were Halle’s mom. It made your heart soar but it was always a little bit awkward. Your food finally arrived shortly after and you started eating.

“Are you my mom?,” Halle asks as you take a bite of your omelette and it takes everything in you not to choke on it.

“She’s your godmom baby,” Eddie responds.

“Yeah but Nancy has her new baby in her tummy and Emma called her mommy. Was I in your tummy?,” Halle asks you and you feel like your heart could break into a million pieces. You were in shock and thankfully Eddie comes to your rescue.

“You weren’t in her tummy baby. You were in someone else’s tummy. We were just lucky enough that Y/N and daddy were friends before you were born and so she’s been here your whole life. I asked her to be your godmother when you were born and she said yes and she’s loved you ever since. ,” Eddie says. You both knew that she would have these questions someday, but you never thought they would come about while she was still so young.

“Am I supposed to call you mommy?,” Halle asks.

“No baby, you can just call me Y/N,” You respond to her. You would love nothing more than to be her real mom. If she ever did call you mommy, you would probably die from excitement. Halle still has a small look of curiosity on her face but she accepts your answers and continues eating her chicken tenders. You meet Eddie’s gaze and he looks at you apologetically. You give him a small smile as if to signal that it is okay and that he has nothing to worry about. After you finish eating, Eddie drives the three of you home.

You do your Sunday tasks as you always do. You’re folding your laundry when the house phone rings and you get up to answer it.

“Hello?,” You ask.

“Hey Y/N, its Wayne. I was just calling to see if you three were still coming over for dinner tonight?,” Wayne asks over the phone.

“Yeah Wayne we are. 5 still a good time?,” You respond.

“Sounds good honey, what did you want for dinner tonight?,” He asks you.

“How about we stop by and grab some pizza on our way over tonight? You either bought or made us dinner the last couple of weeks,” You respond.

“Alright if you insist,” Wayne chuckles.

“Pizza it is,” You respond.

“I’ll see you three later. Give Halle all my love,” He says.

“Will do, see ya later. Bye,” You respond hanging up.

“Who was that?,” Eddie asks.

“Wayne. We’re bringing pizza over for dinner tonight at 5,” You say looking at him.

“Grandpa?,” Halle asks excitedly.

“Yeah and I almost forgot, he told me to give you something,” You say crouching down to be on her level.

“What?,” She asks with a smile. You wrap her up in your arms and press kisses to her cheeks and she laughs gleefully. You pull away and look at her.

“He told me to give you all his love,” you say looking at Halle.

“What am I? Chopped liver? He didn’t want to split his love with me?,” Eddie asks dramatically and laughs.

“Hey, I’m just following his orders,” You shrug your shoulders at Eddie.

“I will so be bringing this up to him tonight,” Eddie says jokingly. You finish up your weekly chores and before you know it, you’re heading out the door to go to Waynes house. You drive the three of you there and stop to grab some pizza along the way. You arrive at Wayne’s and Halle runs in as fast as she can.

“Grandpa!! I got your love from Y/N!,” She says as she hugs Waynes legs.

“Did you? I’m so happy,” Wayne says and hugs the girl back. She runs and plops down on his living room floor and starts playing with a few of her toys that stay here.

“Yeah, what’s with you giving all your love to Halle and not splitting it with me?,” Eddie jokes as he hugs Wayne.

“Wouldn’t you just love an excuse to have a pretty girl kiss you,” Wayne says quietly to Eddie and pulls away from the hug to see Eddie’s face flush. You walk in the door with the pizza in your hands.

“Hey honey how are you?,” Wayne asks, setting the pizza on the counter and bringing you into a hug.

“Hey Wayne. I’ve been good! How have you been?,” You ask.

“I’ve been good honey thanks for asking,” He responds. The four of you sit and start eating pizza together.

“Y/N, are you still seeing that young man you told me about?,” Wayne asks you.

“Oh no, not anymore. I just figured it would be better if I stay single and focus on myself for a while,” You respond taking a bite of your pizza.

“Atta girl. You’re young and you’ll have plenty of time to find someone,” Wayne says. He shoot’s a side look over to Eddie. He, too, has recently being teasing his nephew about having feelings for you. Eddie shoots a look back to Wayne and continues eating his pizza. You all spend the evening with Wayne and finally head home when its around Halle’s bedtime. You arrive back at your apartment and help get Halle ready for bed. She insists that you cuddle with her for a little bit first. You oblige happily and think back to when she asked if you were her mommy this morning and you desperately wished you would have been able to tell her yes as she fell asleep in your arms. You make your way to your own bed and lay down for the night thinking of the good weekend you had and how you wish it didn’t have to end.

Taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut @kjcmama @paleidiot @eddiesguitarskills @sirsbabygirlsblog @eddiemunson95

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson season 4 #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 9: When The Party's Over

Chapter Nine.

I wanna feel something, I wanna feel something, I drink to feel something, I sleep and feel nothing, Maybe that's where you come in, Maybe that's where you and I begin

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 5,839

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of menstruation (not really a warning, but here you go), mild Nancy slander, Billy Hargrove getting a little too comfortable, derogatory name calling, strong language, mentions of scars, and insecurities regarding them, heartbroken Steve, reader is wasted, but more bonding.

Season's greetings, babes.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter Nine: When The Party's Over

The exhaustion had finally got to you. That was the only plausible reason you had for entertaining Billy Hargrove for so long without swinging at his annoyingly pretty face.

You’d only approached him that morning to speak to Max as she exited his Camaro, but the boy had leered at you over the roof of the car the entire time as he puffed away on a cigarette. Unfortunately, he seemed to take that as an invitation to pester you for the rest of the day.

“I don’t have time for this right now, Hargrove.”

The sound of his boots hitting the linoleum flooring told you he wasn’t giving up any time soon, “It’s cool, I can walk and talk. I ain’t got nowhere to be.”

“I’m pretty sure you have a class to be in, actually,” you rolled your eyes, continuing your march to your destination.

“You know my schedule already? How sweet. But look, it’ll be my first party here in Hawkins, you gotta make it.”

Scoffing, you pushed onward toward the library. Somewhere you weren’t sure Billy knew existed, “I haven’t gotta do anything. Plus, Hawkins' parties are all lame. I wouldn’t hold your breath for this one to be different.”

“It’ll be a whole lot less lame with me there, sweetheart,” Billy was on your heels, practically trying to mount your back as you finally pushed through the doors, halting a little too quickly as the door hit the wall, which caused the boy to bump into your back as all eyes cast over you as he laid an arm over your shoulder, “Who knows, you might even crack a smile.”

Spinning on your heel and effectively removing yourself from the boy’s grip, you pushed at Billy’s chest — frown deepening when he barely moved an inch — and huffed, “I’m not in the mood, Hargrove. So leave me alone.”

Stomping off, your fingers dug into your bag as you held it against your chest as if it would magically stave off the unwanted attention from the surrounding students. Especially the attention of the boy with the coffee-colored eyes that you could feel boring into you from the moment you barreled into the room.

You hadn’t been actively avoiding Steve, per se. But with the embarrassment you felt last night still running hot under your skin, you didn’t have the willpower to be around him. You’d felt disconcertingly vulnerable under his unwavering gaze last night, and deep down, a part of you still expected to find him in the cafeteria with his old posse of jerks giggling at your expense.

Sure, he hadn’t bothered with Tommy or Carol since last year so your paranoia seemed unjust, but you knew old habits died hard.

“It’s not my fault you’re on the rag or something,” Billy shouted crudely across the library, clearly not trying to be subtle or considerate, before turning on his heels and making his way toward whoever his next victim was, ignoring the annoyed hissed whispers of the librarian.

You’d kept your head down throughout your free period and you could only be grateful that both Nancy and Steve had kept their distance. You had a history project to finish, and truth be told you hadn’t even started yet, and the distraction of Romeo and Juliet wouldn’t be much appreciated.

Once you were settled, you swiftly made your way across the room and toward the small supply office to browse through the encyclopedias, however you skidded to a stop when you pushed open the door only to come face-to-face with the boy you were absolutely not avoiding on purpose, and his girlfriend.

“Jesus, is nowhere in this school sacred to you two? Can’t you just go make out in the back of Harrington’s car like normal teenagers?”

The boy rolled his eyes at you as Nancy stepped out of his grasp, “I think we should tell Barb’s parents-”

With wide eyes, you scrambled into the room and shut the door behind you, already shaking your head, “Are you insane? We can’t tell Barb’s parents. We can’t tell anyone.”

“You were there, you saw what it’s doing to them.” Nancy was clearly in distress and although your heart went out to her parents, you couldn’t even begin to imagine the repercussions you’d all face if you were to open your mouths.

“I get it, Nance. Really, I do. But we can’t tell them anything. God knows what the Lab would do. What the government would do. The Byers and I would have to pay back the hospital fees and-”

“This isn’t about the money,” Nancy huffed, her head shaking as you stared at you with indignation, but you cut her off quickly,

“That’s because you grew up with a silver spoon shoved in your ass, Wheeler. Do you know what it would do to Mrs. Byers? To Will and Jonathan? To me? When you don’t have money, it factors into everything.”

Nancy was on the verge of tears, but you could flip a coin for which one of you was on the verge of hysteria, “We don’t have to tell them everything.”

This time, Steve spoke up, making his way to stand in between you both, “This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out we told anyone… They could put us in jail, okay? Or worse, they could destroy our families. They could do anything they want, okay? Just think about what you’re saying.”

As Nancy’s bottom lip wobbled, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. But she knew — just as well as both yourself and Steve did — that she couldn’t tell a soul.

“It’s hard, but let’s…” Steve perched himself back on the table, a hand soothingly running up and down Nancy’s arm, “let's just go to Tina’s stupid party, wear our stupid costumes that we’ve been working on for a stupid amount of time, and just pretend like we’re stupid teenagers, okay? Can we just do that, just for tonight?”

Despite Steve’s attempt, Nancy didn’t seem pacified. In fact, she seemed dejected as she agreed to his plan before making her way out of the small room, not bothering to send you a second glance.

Releasing a deep sigh, the boy stood and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against one of the bookshelves as your shoulders sagged, “She’s going to get us all killed.”

“Don’t say that, alright? She’s just… She’s hurting.”

Clenching your jaw, you shook your head at the boy as you looked off to the side. Noting his thoughtlessness, he squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, “Not to say that you’re not too. But Nance just…”

“She feels guilty, Harrington. She feels guilty because she left Barb that night to shack up with you,” lifting a hand, you stopped him from interrupting you, “I’m not blaming her. Like, at all. Okay? I shouldn’t have left, and Nancy shouldn’t have let her leave. But we did, and telling her parents, putting everyone’s life at risk, isn’t going to change that.”

Steve remained quiet, but his eyes softened, and you knew he had to bite back whatever reassurance was sitting on the tip of his tongue. You didn’t want it, and you didn’t need it. It would only fall on deaf ears, anyway.

Instead, Steve’s head fell backward, a quiet thump that barely shook the rickety bookcase behind him.

“I think the party would do you some good, too. The new guy seems pretty insistent that you’re there.”

Scoffing, you moved toward the boy, leaning up to grab at the first encyclopedia your fingers grazed, unbothered by the letter. You watched as Steve’s Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes remained focused on you until you turned, strolling out of the small room, throwing the encyclopedia into your bag before making a hasty exit. The list of people you definitely weren’t purposely avoiding was growing by the minute.

“Hop, hey Hopper!” You called out, chasing down the man as he marched out of the station.

He stopped in front of his car, waiting as you pulled up on your bike, sans helmet. Again.

“Can this wait, Kid? I’m in a hurry-”

“I just… I wanted to double-check about the trick-or-treating thing tonight. I can make sure-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Jim asked, peering down at his watch.

Chewing your lip for a second, you cleared your throat, “I have a free period.”

Cocking a brow, Hopper watched you silently for just a moment, “So if I called the school, they’d confirm that, right?”

“Confidential, I’m afraid. You’re not my parent or guardian so…” You sent him a haughty smirk, relishing the way his face pinched slightly.

“I’m the damn Chief of police, Kid. I can-”

“Trick-or-treating. Yes, or no.”

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. No, and that’s final.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed forward on your bike slightly and lowered your voice, “C’mon, Hop. You can’t treat her like a prisoner of war. You know what happens when you cage a dog?”

“The hell are you talking-”

“They start to bite. And when they finally get out, they start to run.”

Hopper lifted his hat to run a hand over his hair, a long, irritated sigh falling from his lips, and you knew he’d had this argument a million and one times with El, “I said no. End of. Now get back to school.”

“The hell is that smell?” you questioned, nose scrunched up as you tried to breathe through your mouth instead.

Pulling back the cover of Eugene McCorkle’s truck, you found yourself gagging as the awful, pungent smell of decay finally filled your nostrils, “That is why I’m in a hurry. Now if that’s all, I gotta go. And put a damn helmet on.”

Jonathan Byers didn’t cancel on you. In fact, he even offered to pick you up after finally deciding to allow his brother to trick-or-treat alone with his friends.

“She’s evil, I swear.” You told him as you searched through your mother’s chest of drawers, thankful she was out.

“She’s like… ten.” Jonathan laughed, leaning on the door frame, politely refusing to enter your mother’s bedroom.

Rolling your eyes, you continued to dig, “She’s actually nine, but still… Evil. We hit Cherry Street, and she managed to bully Mr. Benson into giving her three full-sized Butterfingers bars.”

Despite not seeing the boy's face, you could almost hear the amused smirk in his tone, “Oh, wow. I better call The Hawkins Post, let them know there’s a new Stalin about town.”

“Shut it, Byers.” Snatching up the yellow button-up shirt that you knew was hidden somewhere with a devilish smirk, you pushed yourself upright and almost skipped back to your room, the door shutting in Jonathan’s face before you began to change.

“You know, you don’t have to dress up, right?”

Jonathan didn’t hear your mumbled response as you pulled your black vest over your head, but a small huff of laughter fell from his lips when you finally opened the door, “Black Christmas?”

“You know that we still have time to ask Bob if you can borrow his Dracula costume, right?”

House keys half-shoved into your back pocket, you clambered into Jonathan’s Ford, already rummaging through his glove compartment to find whichever tape picked your fancy. The boy waited until you settled on a familiar yellow and black cassette.

Waiting until he pulled out of his driveway, and the second verse of Burning Down The House transitioned into the chorus, Jonathan — who had most definitely not asked Bob for his costume — finally asked the question that he had been swallowing down since his arrival at your house,

“Are you okay?”

His troubled glance burned a hole in the side of your face, but you refused to meet his eyes, “I’m fine, Jonathan.”

“This just… doesn’t seem your kind of thing.”

“And what, it’s yours?” You didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, “Didn’t realize you were such a social butterfly, Byers.”

Sighing, Jonathan’s fingers tapped at the distressed steering wheel as he returned his gaze to the road, “I don’t know why the hell either of us are going. I mean, we’re going to hate at least 90% of the people there, right?”

Unable to hide the stretch of a smile from your lips, you finally chanced a look at the boy, grateful that his eyes remained focused on the road out ahead of him, “90%? Have you made friends that aren’t me?”

The boy shook his head, a small smile tugging at his own mouth as you grabbed the orange paper invitation that was sat on his dash, “And we’re going because we’re gonna be stupid teenagers, doing stupid things, at a stupid Halloween party. Plus, we’re gonna get sheet-faced, Byers.”

The party was in full swing by the time you’d arrived, and since you’d promised Jonathan that you’d be ready to leave by 9pm to pick up Will, you didn’t plan on wasting one second of your time.

Tina’s family home sat on Oak and First, and much like Steve Harrington’s house, it was huge and surrounded by the woods. Whilst it was great to know the chances of any neighbors calling the cops were minimal, one glance at the vast, dark treeline set you off enough to refill your cup. You didn’t know how much you’d had to drink, nor did you have any idea as to what was in the punch, bar Drew practically burping in your face that it was pure fuel. All you knew was that it tasted like grape juice. Grape juice with a lot of Tina’s parent's expensive vodka.

Turns out, Nancy was also on a mission to get absolutely wasted.

A loud cheer came from outside, and the chants of the new boy’s name could be heard even over the shredding of guitars of Motley Crew. You weren’t sure who had jacked Tina’s record player, but you were at least grateful that it was a break from back-to-back Madonna.

Ignoring the way Billy stared at you as he passed, making his way toward Steve and no doubt attempting to start trouble, you wobbled toward Jonathan, a drink in each hand.

“Oh shit, Siouxsie Sioux, right?”

The girl, Samantha — with whom you shared art class together — nodded, sending an amused, but tight smile, “Yeah. What are you?”

“Drunk,” Jonathan’s voice was loud next to you, “She’s drunk.”

Rolling your eyes, you purposely gulped down a large mouthful from your solo cup as you offered the other to Jonathan, “And you are sober. Time to catch up, Byers.”

“I’m driving,” shaking his head, Jonathan’s eyes darted around the party, and even in your drunken stupor, you knew who he was looking for.

So instead, you shrugged and took a sip from his cup, “Sucks to be you. Have a good night, Siouxsie.”

Stumbling around the party like Bambi on ice, you almost dropped both of your cups as Drew pushed past, his once rosy, alcohol-flushed cheeks now appeared to be tinged with the slightest shade of green as he rushed out toward the garden,

“Hey, Dipshit!” You halfheartedly yelled after him, eyebrows drawn together as you tried to decipher which one of the two Drews you were currently seeing was the real one, “Watch where you’re going!”

“Jesus, how much have you had to drink?”

Face still pinched, you turned to face the familiar voice, barely holding back the sigh that threatened to fall from you lips, “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Charming,” the boy scoffed, eyes darting around the room to find his girlfriend — who was merrily dancing away, her own drink high above her head — before he returned his attention to you, “Seriously though, you good?”

“I am great.”

Steve was certain it was the first time he’d ever heard you giggle.

Watching you like a hawk, Steve grabbed hold of the half-full red solo cup just before it met your lips, “I think you should slow down a little.”

“I think you should mind your own business, Steven.”

Finally managing to wrangle the cup from your grasp — which really wasn’t that hard considering your state — he placed it on the side, allowing his eyes to dart toward his girlfriend once more, “Is this about the other night? About the nightmares? Because I swear I didn’t-.”

“So you decided to show,” Billy’s smirk was wide, his eyes leering over you despite your outfit being pretty conservative, “You wanna try out the keg? You’re looking at the new King of Hawkins High.”

Your face remained stoic, unsure as to why Billy thought that would impress you, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You wanna dance then?”

Nodding, you pointed at Billy, “Now that… That is something I wanna do.”

Steve watched as you took a large gulp from the cup he hadn’t seen, allowing Billy to begin to lead you toward the crowd. He called your name once, twice, three times, before you stopped, turning to watch him approach you with concern etched over his features, “C’mon, this isn’t like you.”

Sending the boy a sardonic smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, you peeled his gentle grip from your elbow, “That’s the thing, Steve. You don’t know me. You don’t know me, at all.”

Even as you turned to walk away again, Steve called after you, his voice full of hurt, but Billy was the one to intervene this time, a condescending smirk tugging at his lips, “You heard the girl, Harrington. Go find your girlfriend.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Steve huffed and decided that if you didn’t want his help, he would in fact go find his girlfriend. Turns out, it wasn’t exactly hard as Nancy was standing by the punch bowl, helping herself to another drink.

The party was fun for a while, you wouldn’t bother to deny that, but it was only so long that you could handle feeling so out of control. The room was spinning, and you couldn’t tell if things were moving too slowly, or a little too fast, and you felt like you didn’t know up from down. The only grounding force you had was the chest pressed against your back as Billy held you against him, hips gyrating a little too promiscuously, not that you were in any state to notice.

The smell of sweat, smoke, and aftershave that was just a little too strong for your liking hit your nostrils before the pungent, overwhelming smell of alcohol covered it, “So who’d you come as?”

“Jess Bradford,” you mumbled, eyes closed and head resting against the boy as you swayed clumsily to Duran Duran, scoffing loudly when Billy questioned who that was, “You know, from Black Christmas? 'The calls are coming from the house.'”

“Why the hell are you dressed as someone from a Christmas film?”

Out of all the times you’d wanted to slap Billy, this might’ve been the one time you would’ve, had your hand-eye coordination been any good.

“I thought you might’ve come as something a little sexier, you know?” Billy’s lips grazed the side of your neck, the hairs from his mustache tickling you in the worst of ways, “Maybe a little pussycat, or a-”

“Why would a cat be sexy?” You slurred, body no longer moving to the music as you tried to clear your bleary vision, completely unaware of the argument that was going on back in the kitchen, “God, you’re so weird-”

The words died from your mouth as your whole body stood still in shock, one hand clutched against Billy’s wandering one as it grazed over your abdomen, hand shoved between your vest and your shirt. Pushing his hand away, you tried to create some kind of distance, but the boy wouldn’t allow for it, turning you in his grip instead,

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything, just get off of me. I wanna go home,” when the boy moved closer, a haughty smirk pulling at his lips, you shoved your hand limply to his chest as if to move him back, “Alone. I wanna go home alone.”

His smirk dropped instantly, eyes narrowing as he looked over you, “The hell is wrong with you? One minute you’re all over me, the next you’re acting like a total prude.”

“I wasn’t-” slurring, you wobbled slightly where you stood, expression pinched, “I wasn’t all over you. You… You were all over me.”

“Last I heard, a little bit of alcohol and you turn into the county slut-”

His words stopped abruptly as your hand connected with his cheek. Even though you were wasted and your arms felt like cooked spaghetti, the darkening in both his cheek and his eyes told you it had at least hurt a little,

“You wanna go home, then fine. Go. Nobody here gives a shit.”

Refusing to allow your bottom lip to wobble until you were outside and far enough away, you stumbled out of Tina’s house, refusing to make eye contact with any of the passersby. However much of a dick he was, Billy was right.

Nobody in that party cared. Jonathan was here for one reason, and whilst you couldn’t blame him, you knew you were just along for the ride. The only friend — the only true friend — you’d had, had been dragged into the pits of Hell by some monster. The same monster who’d left a permanent reminder on your body in the form of three large, ugly scars along your abdomen. The same scars that Billy had — albeit, unwittingly — ran his hand over as he tried to feel you up.

Making your way to the end of Tina’s drive, you plopped yourself down on the curb, cursing yourself as you rummaged around in your pockets for a cigarette, only to come up empty-handed.

The first tear fell, but you wiped it away almost viciously, refusing to allow any more to fall. But you were drunk and tired — both emotionally and physically — and you just wanted this night to be over. This year to be over.

A pair of white Nike trainers came into view, stopping directly in front of you and causing you to crane your neck.

There, with bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks, stood Steve Harrington, his large hand held out in front of him, waiting to assist you up, “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

You both remained silent for the most part, your eyes drooping every so often, before shooting open when your head would bump the window, a quiet murmur of ‘sorry’ from the boy next to you.

Groaning, you forced your eyes shut, the image of the passing trees making you feel nauseous, “You’re not gonna hurl, are you?”

“No,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the excessive saliva that was building up in your mouth, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” the boy said quietly, eyes darting toward you as you curled in on yourself, sending him a half-assed glare.

“Yeah, well… Neither do you.”

A short, humorless laugh fell from his lips before he wiped at his nose, pinching the tip of it, “Yeah well, not everyone had as good of a night as you, I guess.”

“I don’t think having Billy Hargrove grinding against me is my definition of a good night.” Sighing, you ran your hand over your face, ignorant of any makeup you had probably smudged.

“Sure looked like you enjoyed it,” Steve’s eyes darted toward you, squeezing his eyes together for just a second, “I’m sorry. That was… Look, it’s none of my business, alright?”

Folding your arms over your chest, you leaned your head against the window, “You’re right. It’s not.”

Pulling up to your house, you noted your mother’s car gone from the small driveway, and you were willing to thank whatever higher power was out there until you stood patting your dark pants in an attempt to find your keys,

Thankfully, Steve was waiting until you were safely inside the house to pull away, but when you came up empty-handed he sighed and quickly exited his car, following you as you fumbled with the front room window, eventually turning your attention to the overgrown garden, “Just… Just get back in the car.”

“I’m sure I can get in through at least one window-”

Steve’s eyes widened, grabbing hold of your wrist as you lifted your arm, ready to throw a large rock you’d found straight through your bedroom window. Drunken logic, he assumed,

“Look, we don’t need to add breaking and entering to your charge sheet. Just… get back in the car. You can stay at mine.”

“It wouldn’t be breaking and entering if I’m breaking and entering my own property, dumbass,” you scoffed but allowed him to gently pull you toward his car once more, stumbling over your Converse.

Within the blink of an eye — or maybe you’d just had a five-minute nap — you were pulling up to Steve’s familiar house, the bright red door almost taunting you at the one memory you had of this place, and the stark reminder that things would never be the same again.

“My folks are home, so you’ve gotta be quiet, alright?”

Steve cringed as you slammed his car door accidentally, eyes widened as you turned to him, “…Sorry.”

After assessing the top floor windows, thanking his lucky stars that his parents seemingly remained fast asleep, he helped you into the house and up the stairs.

Delicately closing his bedroom door, Steve finally turned to you, rolling his eyes as you fell face first onto his bed, before making his way toward his chest of drawers and pulling out an old shirt, “Here, you can wear this if you want.”

Your head popped up, face pinched in disgust, “When did you last wash your sheets?”

Steve was certain that by this point, he’d seen the back of his eye sockets a million times, “Calm down, they’re clean. Just… change into that, and I’ll be back.”

Eventually pulling yourself upright, you managed to wrestle yourself out of the black vest as you grumbled to yourself the entire time before flopping back down onto the bed, unable to care that sleeping in your slim-fit yellow button-up shirt would be mildly uncomfortable at best. When Steve finally made his way back to the room — a gentle, wary knock before he reentered — he found you tucked under the navy blue comforter, his spare shirt still on the edge of the bed where he’d left it. Steve placed the cold glass of water down on the bedside table, along with the bottle of aspirin he’d brought up. Placing his hands on his hips, Steve let out a long sigh as he looked around his room, unsure of what to do.

It had been a long night, and despite Steve wanting to go to bed, he was somewhat grateful for the distraction you’d given him. He’d been warned a long time ago when he was much smaller, that crying was a weakness, even in the privacy of his own bedroom.

“Steve,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but it made him jump a little anyway, “I’m sorry I was a total bitch earlier.”

A small huff of laughter fell from his lips as he grabbed a pillow from his bed, throwing it to the floor before making his way to the cupboard, grabbing his summer comforter, “After the night I’ve had, it’s nothing.”

Flicking off the light switch and making sure his bedroom door was locked, Steve finally made himself comfortable on the floor beside the bed, his foot knocking against his desk every so often as he shuffled in an attempt to get comfortable. Releasing a sigh, Steve rolled back onto his back, gazing at the moon outside his bedroom window.

He used to have everything.

The popularity, the friends, even the girl. And now, everything was in turmoil, ripped out like a rug from under his feet, and Steve felt like he was forever falling. He was stupid to think that tonight could’ve been the night he finally felt normal again.

Rolling onto your stomach, you peered down at the boy in silence, watching as he became lost in his own thoughts. Despite the remainder of his previous summer's sunkissed skin, the moonlight washed him out, betraying the dark circles that nestled under his red-rimmed eyes. Eyes that appeared much darker.

You wouldn’t pretend that you knew Steve well. In fact, most of the things you knew about Steve could be counted on one hand. One thing you were learning, however, was that when Steve was upset, he’d become pensive. Quiet. Un-Steve like. Watching him like that — in an almost silent trance as his eyes grew dull, losing focus — tugged at your heartstrings in a way you didn’t appreciate.

“Why are you sad?”

Blinking a few times, Steve managed to pull himself out of the never-ending spiral that long, quiet nights alone seemed to inevitably end in, his eyes instead turning toward you as his brows pushed together, “I’m not sad.”

“Tell that to your face,” you didn’t have it in you to roll your eyes, instead remaining laser-focused on the boy, “because you look like a kicked puppy.”

Steve, however, did roll his eyes. Releasing a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest, wriggling a little to get comfortable, “I’m not sad, I’m just… It's been a long night.”

A long year.

His tone was final, evident that he didn’t intend to divulge you any further into his problems, so you remained silent, still peering at him over the edge of his bed. Eventually, the pinch between his brows settled, eyes gazing back toward you, “Why were you crying?”

“I wasn’t crying,” you grumbled, burrowing yourself into the soft comforter, “I just… Also had a long night.”

“Hargrove?”

Your silence, only interrupted by a long, deep sigh, told the boy that he was correct.

“He’s an asshole.”

A short silence, followed by a slight sniffle and a defeated ‘yeah’ caused the boy to furrow his brow, hand slowly moving toward where yours hung off the bed slightly, fingers grazing your wrist as he tapped it to get your attention back, “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

Your glossy eyes refused to meet his, focusing on the moon that looked like it was about to roll right across the sky, “It’s Hargrove, he’s always trying something.”

Watching as you gnawed your bottom lip, knowing it would be sore by the morning, Steve waited patiently as you tried to rearrange your thoughts.

If you hadn’t drunk so much, you probably wouldn’t have entertained his curiosity, and Steve knew if Nancy hadn’t ripped out his heart in Tina’s bathroom, he wouldn’t have grasped at someone else’ tribulations, needing to do anything to keep his mind from imploding in on itself with questions he didn’t have the answers to.

“Last year,” your voice was as quiet as a mouse. Trepidation and dubiety wound tight on your tongue, burning like acid as you dug through the memories you’d been trying so hard to repress the past 11 months, “when that thing attacked me… Well, let's just say it left a pretty gnarly scar.”

Remaining silent, Steve watched as your throat bobbed, taking in your words even if they were still slightly slurred. Steve had a scar on his left knee from falling off his bike when he was younger, the thin, white line had become nothing more than a passing thought throughout the years, but now, watching your chin wobble slightly as you tried to find the words, it felt like the most important information he had.

“I just… Billy grazed over it, you know? He doesn't even know it's there, but… I see it every morning, and it makes me… It makes me sick. And then I realize that I’m so lucky that all that monster did was leave a scar because, for all we know, it ripped Barb apart. But I… I just hate it, and I hate that fucking Demogorgon, and I hate that I will forever have that reminder on my body. ”

Wiping your eyes with the comforter, you shook your head, “I’m sorry. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“When I was seven, my Dad tried to teach me how to ride a bike,” his words were enough to pull you from your downfall, tear-filled eyes finally connecting with his, “he gave up pretty quickly, didn’t like it when I wasn’t automatically good at something. Every afternoon after school, for like, a whole week, I’d force myself back out on that bike. I knew I had to learn because I had to prove my Dad wrong.”

Your eyes remained on him, feeling comfort from his warm, soft gaze, even if his sudden switch in conversation had thrown you through a loop, “What happened?”

“I fell off, busted my knee on the driveway. Got a pretty badass scar myself-”

“-Harrington-”

“-But, I kept going. Picked myself up, dusted myself off, and carried on. And then one afternoon, I just… I did it. Pushed off and sailed down the street.”

Sniffling a little, you watched him with a furrowed brow, “Does this story have a point, or are you just trying to send me to sleep?”

The shadow of a smirk tugged at the side of his lips, but he did his best to repress it, “What I’m trying to say is… Actually, I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. But I do know that your scar, it might be a reminder of all the shit that went down last year, but it also shows that you survived it, came out the other end, you know? And you shouldn’t… You shouldn’t care about what anything thinks about it, especially not Hargrove.”

Blinking away the tears that had settled along your lash line, you remained silent as you watched the boy watching you. Never in your wildest dreams would you expect Steve Harrington — Hawkins's own knockoff version of Tom Cruise, if you asked him at least — to be the one to comfort you over a deep-rooted insecurity. You’d heard the ways his gaggle of friends would loudly mock other students — yourself included on occasion — everything from their hair to their music taste, the acne on their forehead to the braces that lined their teeth. Like sharks, they were able to smell insecurity from 3 miles away and didn’t hesitate to go in for the kill.

But from your position on the comfortable bed, peering down at the boy who somehow looked much younger and much older all at the same time, you realized that the Steve Harrington you thought you knew was slowly but surely evolving. A caterpillar that had entered the first stage of metamorphosis. And only time would tell if he came out a moth or a butterfly.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Alone Together (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: SpacePirate!Minho x Smuggler!F.Reader Themes: Sci-Fi AU (barely) | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) | Lovers (idiots) to Even More Lovers (affectionate) Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho was a man on the run, an outlaw. He was always getting himself into trouble, thieving and fighting against the people that perpetuated an unfair system that did nothing but bring pain to those the system considered lowly and unworthy. For his next mission, he decided to ask for help from the person he trusted most in this world, you. Warnings: star wars concepts used very loosely and probably very poorly · made up locations · mentions of slavery and morally questionable situations · the term suicide mission is used once · your honour they’re sickly in love · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: i started watching the book of boba fett, and it seems like it’s impossible for me to watch anything star wars related without wanting to write about people boning in space. so this piece was born ! it’s incredibly self-indulgent, but i hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it too~

this was barely proof-read, so if anything sounds weird don’t hesitate to let me know lol

Smut Warnings: this is very vanilla tbh · praise · fingering [F.Rec] · protected penetration [piv].

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

As an outlaw, Minho’s entire livelihood depended on him not attracting too much attention to himself, on laying low and being as stealthy as possible. Which was why it almost felt counterintuitive to be here right now, trying to get his ship caught on the radars of a cargo ship. Although, to be fair, it wouldn’t have been the first time he tried to get into this cargo ship in this exact same way, but usually he’d have a bit more preparation than this.

“Shit… Here we go. Buckle up, boys”, Minho informed his crewmates.

Their entire starcraft shook violently as the gravitational beam of the much bigger starship pulled them towards it. They were discovered almost as soon as they came close to the vessel, and Minho had honestly taken a leap of faith with this move, because this could’ve gone two ways: like it was going right now, them being pulled towards the hangar within the starship, or they could’ve been shot down on sight.

Getting within the perimeter of a smuggler ship was always dangerous, especially when done unannounced, but Minho was desperate, so he did what he had to do.

As soon as his ship was parked within the hangar, he unbuckled his safety belt, standing up and stretching his limbs. “Guys, get ready. Remember what I said, no sudden movements, no arguing, just follow my lead, okay?”

Hyunjin and Felix nodded in understanding, getting out of their seats and stretching as well, just as loud thuds started to resonate within the crammed space they called their ‘navigation room’. That was a bold claim, this ship consisted only of that navigation room, small enough to go undetected when needed, but not that good for long periods of time travelling, he’d admit.

“Open up, hands in the air!”

Minho nodded to his crewmates, and once they both lifted their arms he hit the door’s button on his console.

Four super battle droids stood right outside, with their blasters pointed right at them. Minho hadn’t seen this model of droid before, they must’ve been one of your latest acquisitions, and somehow, that thought brought a smile to his face. However, new droids meant that they wouldn’t know who he was, which also meant things could get out of hand really quickly.

“Step out!”

Minho got off the ship first, with his hands in the air as instructed, followed by Hyunjin and Felix. The droids immediately took a hold of their wrists, rather forcefully, and it made him wince.

“Hey! We’re cooperating, don’t be so harsh, jeez…” The droids completely ignored Minho, simply continuing their task of holding their wrists behind their backs and binding them together.

“Names, and what were you doing fluttering around this ship?”

“I’m Minho. These are Hyunjin and Felix”, Minho replied simply, gesturing with his head as he named his two crewmates. “We came to speak with your captain”.

“Our captain has no time to deal with stowaways”, one of the droids scoffed, pointing their blaster right to Minho’s forehead.

He couldn’t help but smirk, the words flying past his mouth before he could even think twice about them. “How can you call us stowaways when you were the ones to pull us in here?”

The droid went silent. Minho figured that if it could make facial expressions, it would’ve looked annoyed.

“It’s really important”, Minho urged. “I’m sure she’ll understand. If you’re planning on throwing us to the trash chute, don’t you think she’d like to make the call herself?” 

The droid in front of him went silent again, the other three were just surrounding them, pointing their blasters at them. It was taking the droid so long to say something, Minho started to really worry that he had miscalculated how this part of the plan would go.

Ultimately, the droid lowered its weapon, and the three of them heaved a sigh of relief. “Follow me”.

The insides of the ship looked almost the same as they had last time Minho was here, save for a few changes to the corridor’s decor. How long had it been? Three months? Six? It was hard to tell these days when he was running for his life half the time.

The group of droids guided the three of them towards where Minho knew the main control room would be, where you probably would be. He should’ve been unfazed, Minho had seen you thousands of times, but somehow every single time without fail his heart would flutter, especially when so much time had passed since he last saw you.

As soon as the doors of the main control room slid open they were engulfed by the sound of clicks and clacks from the amount of droids sitting at their stations just pressing buttons. It was impressive, how you had put together this entire operation almost on your own, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Captain”, the droid spoke finally, snapping Minho out of his daze.

Ah, there you were, hunched over your desk, with your fingers flying on the touchscreen that was embedded in it. What were you doing? Planning your next course? Ensuring the safety of your routes? Checking for imperial ports in the vicinity? Minho was always curious, mostly because he was nosy. He wanted to have as much knowledge as possible at any given time, but he also just liked to hear you talk about things. He quite enjoyed hearing you speak, he’d admit.

“What is it, B2-49?” Shit, just your voice could kickstart Minho’s heartbeat. He should visit more often, the longer he spent away the more your mere existence affected him, and it was, quite honestly, inconvenient.

“The stowaways wish to speak with you”, the droid, B2-49, informed you, and you scoffed, not lifting your eyes from the screen under your fingertips for a second.

“How can you call them stowaways when we pulled them in here in the first place?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth”, Minho couldn’t help but say, grinning at you once the sound of his voice finally pulled you from your task.

Your eyes went wide as soon as you spotted him, you clearly weren’t expecting him, and Minho would lie if he said he didn’t enjoy catching you off guard, that he didn’t enjoy your attention.

Your gaze jumped from him to his two companions, and your brows furrowed. You looked at him again, right in the eyes, confusion written all over your face. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Can’t I just drop by anymore?”

“You can”, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “But something tells me you’re here with a purpose”.

‘So when I come here to fuck you isn’t a purpose?’ was what Minho would’ve liked to say, because that was often why he came to your ship, but he’d always come alone. Hyunjin and Felix didn’t have to know any of that, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he chose to take a direct approach.

“We need a safe route to infiltrate the Antrilian quadrant”.

You scoffed, incredulousness painted all over your face. “Have you gone mad? Antrilia? Want me to get you right to the intergalactic council as well?”

Antrilia was known for hosting the biggest slave ring in the galaxy, it was heavily guarded by imperial forces, and it was Minho’s goal to bring it all down, to free every single slave in the quadrant, stealing a few prized possessions in the process–he had to get his money’s worth, of course. 

It was a very personal task, considering two of his crewmates had been taken by the empire recently. Saving his friends and taking it all down wouldn’t be easy, the entire quadrant was heavily guarded, which was why he had come to you, the best, most discreet smuggler he’d ever known.

“I’m being serious”, and he was.

Minho’s entire purpose was to rid the galaxy of every single slave camp he could, that was how he met his crewmates, they formed their own guild and were now some of the most wanted men in the galaxy. Ever since he himself escaped from one of those places when he was just a kid, he made it his purpose to wreak as much havoc as possible, to bring down the system. It was dangerous, and he’d been close to dying more times than he could count, but he just couldn’t turn a blind eye to it.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes jumping all over his face. After a while, you finally unfolded your arms to place your hands flat on the table. “Oh my Gods, you are serious. Do you have a death wish?”

Minho gave you a smile, a smug one, and you immediately brought your fingers to your temples, rubbing circles there.

“I can’t do that, Minho”, you said as soon as you seemed to realise he wasn’t going to back down.

“If there’s anyone in this galaxy that can get us there is you. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t truly believe that”, and Minho really meant it. Regardless of his personal connection to you, he knew you were incredibly good at your craft.

You looked at him for a few moments, quiet, pondering, he could almost see the cogs turning inside your head, and for a brief moment he wondered if you would just shoot him down completely. That was, until you spoke again.

“What’s in it for me?”

"My gratitude", Minho said in a mock tone, and you quirked a brow, almost as if you were telling him ‘be fucking serious right now’. 

So he clicked his tongue, slightly annoyed that you didn’t want to play along. “The receptor of an imperial cruise with a valid code”.

Immediately, a glint of excitement appeared in your eyes, 

“How did you… Get your hands on that?”

Minho shrugged. “I have my ways”.

You were silent for a while, just looking into his eyes and tapping your fingers on your desk. Minho looked right back at you, waiting for you to make your decision. This wasn’t the first time he was asking for a favour, but it was certainly the first time he was asking for something so dangerous, so he could completely understand if you didn’t want to help him. He wouldn’t have taken it to heart either way.

With a deep intake of breath, you finally stood up from your desk and walked a bit closer to the group, to stand right in front of Minho. “This is not something I can decide just now. I need some time to think about it”.

“There’s not much time, I’m afraid”, Minho gave you a genuinely apologetic smile, and you sighed, somehow sounding both defeated and annoyed.

“Quit being dramatic. I’m sure you can give me at least twenty four hours”.

“Twenty four hours sounds reasonable”.

You looked at Minho for a moment, and then looked at his crewmates. “Who are you guys?”

“Hyunjin”.

“Felix”.

Both of his crewmates introduced themselves at the same time, but you seemed to pick up their names anyway. You signalled your droids to remove their restraints, giving them both a welcoming smile. “Welcome aboard, Hyunjin and Felix”.

They simply returned your greetings, sounding immensely grateful now that they were no longer bound. You were just about to walk away when Minho cleared his throat with a frown on his face.

“Aren’t you going to untie me, too?”

You looked him up and down, and a devilish smile made its way to your lips, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Why should I?”

“So you untie my friends and not me? Seems a bit biassed on your part, doesn’t it?”

You walked closer, standing so close he almost felt as if you were going to kiss him. Right there. In front of his friends. And that realisation had his heart pounding in his chest, and, even more annoyingly, it brought heat to his ears. He tried his best to not show how affected he was, though. He stood his ground, with the self-assured smile he could pull off.

Bringing your hand behind him, you took a hold of the device binding his wrists. “Say please”.

His smug façade crumbled immediately, replaced by a look of incredulousness. Minho scoffed, tilting his head to the side and looking you right in the eyes. “You can’t be serious right now…”

The corners of your mouth quirked up, and the mirth in your eyes made him both feel giddy and incredibly annoyed. 

“I’m dead serious, Lee Minho”, you told him, and Minho realised then that if he leaned in just the tiniest bit, he could definitely press his lips to yours, and for a second, he genuinely considered it.

If it had been just you and your droids, he certainly would’ve kissed you right then and there, but the presence of his friends behind him gave him pause. It wasn’t like Minho minded if they knew, it was that he wasn’t sure whether you would mind or not. But based on how things had gone between you two so far, he figured you would, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes to avoid looking at your triumphant face.

“Please”.

“Please, what?”

His eyes snapped open, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to wipe that glint of victory in your eyes. Regardless, Minho swallowed his pride, he was in no position to try his luck.

“Please, captain”.

You smiled, clearly satisfied. With what Minho figured was a press of a button on his cuffs, the thing unravelled from his wrists, finally letting him move freely.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You tapped his chest, and Minho had to bite his tongue. Oh, he was so getting his payback for this.

Before he could say anything, you spoke again. “You guys can stay here today if you want. There’s plenty of rations for all of us, including the few other living people on this ship, but I’m afraid there’s only one spare room conditioned for people to stay in besides the crew’s”.

“We’ll stay”, Minho rubbed his wrists, trying to ease some of the ache caused by his restraints.

The room provided to them was big enough, with a bunk bed embedded on one of the walls, and another on the other. Very sterile looking, nothing in particular stood out, it was just like any other room Minho had seen on a spaceship of this size. The biggest add-on was the adjacent washroom, which the three of them immediately rejoiced at when they noticed it.

No one ever spoke about it, but depending on the ships you travelled in throughout the galaxy, a washroom could be considered a luxury, so the prospect of a good shower and a fresh change of clothes was certainly appealing. Minho let his younger crewmates take the spot first, since he was sure both Hyunjin and Felix were dying to feel clean again.

As he waited for them to come out, slouching on one of the chairs in the room, Minho’s mind couldn’t help but wander. He’d never imagined he’d be here, in your ship, with any of his friends. He’d hoped that maybe one day, if things worked out, he could introduce you to them in a less… Contained fashion. But things never seemed to go as he expected whenever it came to whatever it was that was lingering between you two.

As soon as his friends were ready, Minho immediately rushed to the washroom. He took his time just washing off all the grime and gunk that had stuck to him during their almost never-ending travels the past handful of days, so truly, he was immensely grateful for that shower. 

“Do you think she’ll help?” Felix asked from where he was laying on the top bunk as soon as Minho came out of the washroom.

“Honestly?” Minho rubbed a towel on his head, trying to get his hair as dry as possible. “I really have no idea”.

Hyunjin eyed him for a moment, leaning back on his hands from where he sat on the bottom bunk. “You sure? You seem to be awfully close with the captain of this ship”.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say awfully close”, Minho was great at lying and deception, but even to him that statement sounded incredibly disingenuous. “We… Know each other”.

“You know each other? Or you know each other?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at Minho, just as the older man was sitting on the bottom bunk of the other bunk bed.

“If you ask me, I’d like to think she’d do it. But this is very different from any favour I’ve ever asked. More dangerous… So who knows”, Minho decided to completely brush off the curious eyes, and even more curious questions of his crewmates. Explaining his connection to you was something he’d rather not speak about, not now at least.

Felix looked like he was going to say something, something incredibly annoying. So Minho decided to abruptly stand up from his bed and intercept him. “Anyway, I’m going for a snack”.

“A snack?” Hyunjin asked once Minho walked past him. “Is that how we’re calling the cap–”

Before he could even attempt to finish his sentence, Minho took the towel he had draped over his shoulders and swiftly snapped it in Hyunjin’s direction, hitting him in the arm.

“Ow! Unnecessary!” Hyunjin rubbed his upper arm, pouting.

Minho simply offered him a ‘deserved’ before he walked out the door.

Minho did intend on finding something to snack on before bed, but he would lie if he said he wasn’t keeping his eyes open in case he spotted you. All he’d seen so far was the odd droid going about their business, and a couple of crew members who greeted him as usual.

“Who gave you permission to wander the corridors of my ship?” 

Minho’s skeleton almost jumped out of skin at the sudden voice speaking to him. As soon as that initial shock passed he knew it was you, how could he not know when the sound of your voice was already ingrained in every crevice of his brain? So he decided to put up his best smug façade once again, ignoring the way his heart started to thump in his chest just at the sound of your voice.

“You did, captain. If my memory serves me right”.

You just scoffed in response, and started to walk towards him. Once you stood in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest, and simply looked at him with a frown on your face.

For a moment, Minho didn’t say anything, just like you didn’t either. Your gaze was stern, guarded, just like it usually was whenever you were into your Captain Mode. After all, you spent most of your time around your crew, leading them, planning morally questionable arrangements to get work going, so it was no surprise to him that you looked at him like this.

However, after a few more moments of silence, the frown on your face turned to one of concern, and, honestly, Minho would lie if he said he didn’t like it when you worried about him. Because he knew that was what was going through your mind right now, worry.

“Is there anything I can say or do to get you to not do this?” 

Minho gave you a smile, a genuine one, the ones he reserved mostly for you, and for moments like these. “No”.

You sighed. “For a pirate, you sure have a lot of morals, don’t you?”

“Being a contradiction is my favourite pastime, baby, you know that”, he registered the pet name falling from his lips a second too late. There was nothing he could do about it, it was like his brain would automatically shift into Smitten Mode whenever you two were on your own. If you were displeased by it, you didn’t show it or say anything about it. “I must say, I find it rather cute that you’re worrying about me that much”.

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes. “Of course I worry about you. Unfortunately, you’ve got this horrible habit of risking your life, and since I’ve got the horrible habit of caring about you, it’s only natural that I worry”. 

Had you no regard for his weak heart? How could you tell him you cared about him so nonchalantly? And while you were scolding him at that? He wanted to say something back, to bicker a bit more, but his body seemed to not agree with that logic, because it decided that the best reaction would be to rush blood to his ears and his chest, making him flush.

So, to counterattack, Minho simply did what he did best, to display his affection through his actions instead of his words. Cradling your face in his hands, he dragged his thumbs over your cheeks, and as he stared into your eyes he could see all your walls crumble, just like they always did in situations like these. ‘Cute’, was the last word to leave his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth spread quickly inside of him, the tiny whine that escaped your mouth as soon as your lips connected ignited in him all those feelings he usually tried to ignore, and the way you kissed him, with as much desperation as he felt, had blood rushing to his length immediately. Minho couldn’t help it, it was instinctual at this point, to get hard when you so much as touched him–even if that touch was only your lips on his, your hands grabbing his top, and your tongue inside his mouth.

Before he knew it, he had moved, walking forward and pressing you against the cold metal walls of your ship. His hands finally left your face to hold your waist instead, and you took it as an opportunity to loop your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair and tugging gently.

“Missed you”, Minho mumbled against your lips as he slotted one of his legs between your own, pressing his thigh right against your core. He wasn’t ashamed or bashful of the words that came out of his mouth, he was way past that point, he’d decided long ago that sometimes–especially after long periods of time apart–telling you how he felt was better than having to bottle it all up.

“Missed you, too”, you mumbled back, bringing one of your legs to wrap around his hip, pulling him close, kissing him deeply right after. You, clearly, had also decided to let go of those inhibitions as well.

Moving his hand from your waist to your bum, he groped the flesh over your bottoms, just as he detached himself from your mouth to sparsely press kisses on your neck, right in the areas he knew you were the most sensitive, making you whimper. “Can’t believe you made me fucking beg to get me out of the handcuffs”.

“Wouldn’t have been the first time”, you replied with a strained chuckle, digging your heel on the back of his thigh, enticing him. It was certainly working. “Probably won’t be the last, either”.

“You minx”, Minho chuckled, returning his lips to yours, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, taking a hold of your thigh and squeezing it.

Your heavy breathing, the warmth emanating from your body that immediately seeped into him, kindling the fire that burnt bright inside of him, that fire that didn’t seem to die regardless of how much time passed, all combined had Minho’s head spinning, had him growing impossibly hard. He needed you just as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs, and for a brief second he considered taking you right there, right in the middle of the corridor, uncaring of who could walk by and see you two.

As usual, though, you brought some sense into him, tugging hard on his hair to get him to detach his mouth from yours, mumbling a breathless ‘wanna head to my cabin?’ to which Minho simply replied an overly confident ‘thought you’d never ask’. So, as soon as he separated himself from your body you took his hand in yours, pulling him along the corridor, following the familiar path to your sleeping quarters.

There had always been this thing about your room that gave Minho an immense amount of peace. He wasn’t sure if it was the infuser you seemed to have on at all times, the one that filled your room with whichever relaxing essential oil you’d gotten your hands on during your travels, or if it was the clear signs that this was your living space–the seemingly permanent heap of clothes on the chair next to your bed, the journal you kept on your desk, the huge, old-fashioned map of the galaxy taped to the wall… It was all so incredibly you, it made him feel completely enveloped by your presence, it comforted him, really.

His favourite part of your room, though, was your bed. Incredibly comfortable, with just the right amount of firmness to it, saturated in the smell of you. And maybe later, Minho would be able to bury his face in your pillow, to try and etch your essence into his memory to get him through the hard days to come. 

Right now, as your clothes and his landed on the already existing pile of clothes on your chair, he could hardly think about any of that. The feeling of your bare skin against his was more than enough to drown him in the moment. Every sigh, moan, whine that came out of your mouth whenever his lips touched your skin, the warmth of your body under him, it all let him ignore the world out of this room, out of this ship, let him focus on only you and him and the deep desire that was burning bright inside of him.

Between your hands roaming his back, the desperate way you clung to him, kissing him so hungrily he could barely breathe, Minho knew it was only a matter of time until you talked, or until he talked. He always wondered who would be the first one to ask that burning question that always hung in the air, most of the time it was him, but on odd occasions, you’d cave, and he was always ready to answer when you did.

“Have you been with other people since the last time we saw each other?”

There it was. You beat him to it this time, but, honestly, it really didn’t matter who asked it. To him, regardless of who broke the question first, it never made the entire thing any less absurd.

“Other people?” He propped himself on one hand to get a better view of you, dragging the other hand all the way from your shoulder to your centre, feeling your heated skin under his palm. His fingers teased your folds, spreading your essence all over, getting his fingers drenched. Gods, you were so wet for him already, and you’d barely even started. 

Minho was impatient. He always was the first time he got you under him like this after a long time. He wanted you, he wanted to see you squirming and writhing under his touch, so he wasted no more time, easing his ring and middle finger into your dripping heat. A quiet moan flew past your lips as soon as he was buried to the knuckle, gripping the bed sheets near your head once he started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, letting you get used to the intrusion. 

“There’s been no one else. No one could ever remotely compare”, he emphasised his words with a hard nudge on your sweet spot, and a tug on your nipple, eliciting a moan from your lips. “There’s been flirting, I’ll give you that. Knowingly and unknowingly. More often than not to get ourselves out of tricky situations, you know how it is… But physically? Emotionally? I haven’t wanted anyone else since the first time I buried my head between your legs and got you to moan so sweetly for me, sweetheart”.

“Minho, my darling…” Your voice was airy, your face flushed, and quiet moans continued to spill from your lips as he picked up his rhythm, prepping you, moving his fingers against all those areas inside of you he seemed to have committed to memory throughout the years, the ones that would labour your breath and get you to moan a bit louder the longer he worked you up. 

Minho dipped, finding your mouth and kissing you with force, with need. Because all this time, all he’d ever needed was you, he always did. Every day, even when he decided to ignore it. 

You held onto his forearm, lightly digging your nails on his flesh, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it reminded him of the fact that he was here, with you, making you feel good, getting to enjoy you once more.

“What about you?” Minho said once he disconnected his mouth from yours for air, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck.

He wanted to know. He wouldn’t judge you, you were free to do as you pleased, after all. That was how it worked between you two, although ‘worked’ could be considered a very loose term here. “Has anyone taken care of you these past handful of months?”

You shook your head, inhaling sharply when Minho continued his descent down your torso, attaching his mouth to your chest as his fingers kept going in and out of you, as he kept stimulating that area within your walls that he knew would get you to lose your train of thought.

Of course you hadn’t had sex with anyone else. You never did. You hadn’t in years, just like Minho hadn’t, either.

“I only–Oh!” Your words cut off, replaced by a breathy moan once Minho’s lips found one of your nipples and sucked it into his mouth to flick it with his tongue. He could feel you clenching hard around his fingers, and it almost made him dizzy with how hard it was getting him. 

You swallowed, audibly. Your fingers tangled in Minho’s hair, tugging at it as he kept working you up. With his fingers, with his mouth, with his tongue… He loved to coax the most delicious sounds out of your lip, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. So he let go of your nipple, finding your burning gaze as soon as he looked at your face. 

“I haven’t”, you whined, just as you sneaked a hand down your body, finding your clit to draw circles on it. “You are the only person I ever want. I’ve been cursed since the very first day I met you…”

The bead of precum that had been slowly growing on the tip of his cock fell onto the bed once your words registered in his brain. And Minho realised then that he, too, had been cursed since the very first day he met you. Cursed to be in love with you for the rest of his days, cursed to have to ignore that fact and live in this arrangement you two had conjured.

Leaning in, he captured your lips again, and the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as he started to kiss you was enough for him to know just how true it all was.

“Go faster”, Minho mumbled against your lips between kisses, picking up the pace of his fingers. “C’mon, baby, I know you’re close. Rub your precious little clit faster. I need you to come on my fingers”. 

“But…” You started to protest, but you sped up your motions anyway, squirming, whining. “It’s too soon”. 

“Doesn’t matter”, Minho kept flicking his fingers against your sweet spot, just as you kept pleasuring yourself. “I’ll get you to come again later. We’ve got all night. Please, love…”

He returned his mouth to your nipple, suckling and licking the hardened bud. You were swearing a lot, writhing a lot, and as soon as the most desperate ‘close…’ fell from your lips, he trapped your nipple between his teeth, nibbling softly on the sensitive flesh. Your whole body shook with your release, and your moans mingled with his own groans of satisfaction. He revelled in the way your walls clamped around his fingers, in the squelching sounds produced by the movement of his fingers going in and out of your heat. 

Minho let go of your nipple, already knowing it’d be too much for you after your high. Your hand on your clit stopped, but you kept your fingers there, applying pressure to prolong your release just as he kept slowly stimulating your walls.

“Fuck…” You finally moved your hand away from between your legs, and your body slumped on the bed, a clear signal that your high was over. 

Pulling his fingers from your core, he slid them up to tease your sensitive clit for a second, chuckling at the jolt of your body with the contact. You looked so absolutely stunning like this. Flushed, panting, almost glowing. 

Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste as he licked them clean. You swallowed, and Minho removed his fingers from his mouth, only to bring them to yours. “Open up, sweetheart”. 

And you did. Letting him ease his fingers inside your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his digits oh, so perfectly, and your tongue lapped him up just as your eyes closed and your brows pulled together with a muffled moan. “Look at you… Always eager to give a good suck”. 

You hummed, nodding. 

“Most beautiful girl in the galaxy”, he couldn’t help but say as he looked at you eagerly sucking on his fingers, as he felt your tongue lick his digits. 

When he removed his fingers from your mouth, he finally leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, and moving to connect your mouths once again right after. He hugged you close, laying on top of you and covering you with as much of his body as he could, enjoying your warmth.

Minho finally let you take a breather, removing his mouth from yours to instead press kisses on your collarbone. You sighed, content, and the way you massaged his scalp as you held him close had heat spreading in his chest and face, probably making him blush like a fool.

“Fuck, I haven’t come that hard in months…” you mumbled, still slightly breathless. Minho chuckled, resting his weight on one elbow to look at your face, smiling softly at you. 

“And we’re only just getting started, hm?” Minho kissed you briefly, pulling away from you when he felt your hand wrap around his length, stroking him leisurely. “Nuh-uh. None of that”, he tugged your hand away from his cock, eliciting a pout in response.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Oh, baby…” Minho stretched his arm, blindly reaching for the knob of the drawer of your nightstand. “Want you to touch me so much”, he blindly rummaged through it, quickly finding the box of condoms he knew you kept there. “But I want you so fucking bad right now. Need to be inside you now or I’ll combust”. 

You chuckled against his lips when he leaned in to press a quick peck on your lips. Pulling himself from you for a moment, he focused on the box in his hand, dumping the contents on the bed by your head and grabbing a single packet.

There were still as many as he had seen last time he was here with you. 

Minho quickly tore the foil packet open and slid the condom on his length, giving himself a couple of tentative pumps to make sure it was all secure. Lining himself with your entrance, he teased you for a moment, lost in your lustful gaze and the way you bit your lip in anticipation, lost in the burning desire inside of him. 

He couldn’t help but kiss you again, right as he started to ease his cock between your walls. You moaned, holding him tightly, kissing him desperately. Minho simply grunted, and he started to feel lightheaded just by your warmth around him. You were so intoxicating, and the feeling of you around him was so familiar, and even a bit comforting. As he slid centimetre after centimetre within your core, he was reminded of why he was here.

Because you were warm. 

Because you were home.

Once he bottomed out, he propped himself up to look at your face. One of your hands came to rest on his cheek, and your thumb softly caressed his skin. Minho turned his head a bit, just enough to kiss your palm as he started to move. The feel of you around him, warm, tight, wet, made him close his eyes, made him quietly moan as he enjoyed the onslaught of sensations coursing through him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your heel dug on his ass, trying to get him closer to you. 

“Harder”, was all you mumbled, and it made him chuckle and open his eyes. 

“I’m trying to be careful and you want me to go harder?” Minho kept his rhythm slow, almost teasing you.

“Who’s asking you to be careful?” You pressed your lips to his neck, once again making him flush–although at this point he wasn’t sure if the flush had diminished at all since he came into this room. “It’s been too long, darling. Six months, three weeks, and two days, to be exact. I missed you, and all I want is for you to fucking ruin me, Minho”.

“Shit, what am I gonna do with you…” 

Pulling himself away from your embrace, he sat straighter, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and starting a brutal pace right then and there. The moan of surprise that came out of your mouth as soon as he started moving fueled him, it almost made him lightheaded, making him completely forget where you two were, not caring if people heard you at all.

Minho wasn’t sure where to focus; on your tits bouncing with every single one of his thrusts, on the way your face scrunched up in bliss, on the absolutely divine feeling of you wrapped so snugly around him… All combined had sparks of pleasure racing up and down his spine, had his head spinning.

“Is this what you wanted?” With a tight grip on your thigh, keeping your leg flush to him, making sure to hit that area within your walls that would make you produce all those sounds he wanted to hear. 

You nodded, swallowing as you brought a hand to his abdomen, sinking your nails into his flesh. The sting made him grunt, made him throw his head back and snap his hips just a tad faster.

“Look at me”, you mumbled, somehow both commanding and breathless, dragging your nails down his abdomen. As soon as Minho complied, your lascivious gaze almost made him burst. Eye contact was a thing that you always enjoyed, but he wasn’t too sure he’d be able to stand it for long, not at this moment at least. The way you looked at him always made him want to blow, especially so after months of no physical contact.

Minho just chuckled, finding your breast with his free hand to knead the flesh and pinch and roll your nipple between his fingers, eliciting a strained moan from you, making you bite your lip to keep your volume in check. “Are you trying to make me blow?”

As soon as the question came out of his mouth, he felt you clench around him, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation. He knew you were doing it on purpose, you always liked to work him up, get him to lose his sanity with the simplest things, and he always fell for it, because it was just so good. “What if I am?”

“You sound… Way too self-assured for someone who’s… Borderline gasping for air, you know?” 

The laugh that had started to bubble over from you got caught in your throat, replaced by a string of swear words as Minho moved his hand from your breast to your mound and pressed his thumb on your clit. He might’ve been struggling, but he was determined to get you to struggle as well.

You swallowed, licking your lips as you clearly tried to pull yourself together enough to bicker with him. “But you like it, huh?” 

“I fucking do, shit…” He just sped up his fingers, trying to get you to your peak as fast as possible.

Minho really couldn’t tell how much time passed of him pounding into you, rubbing your clit and tugging on your nipples, and he honestly didn’t care, either. This was always the best part, getting to lose himself in the moment, pleasuring you and getting pleasure of his own just by the feel of you there, under him, around him.

Every time you spoke, it brought him increasingly closer to the edge, your ‘just like that, baby’, and your frequent and almost incomprehensible ‘so fucking good’ simultaneously going to his head and his cock, fueling him even further. When you finally came, he couldn’t hold back the groans that came out of his mouth in tandem with your moans. The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him sent a shiver down his spine, and before he knew it, he was leaning into you, kissing you deeply, messily as he chased his own release.

You held him tightly, tiny squeals muffling against his lips as he kept his relentless pace. The sudden sting of your nails trailing down his back was the final push he needed. Minho saw white for a brief moment, groaning and grunting and maybe even moaning at the feel of your teeth sinking on his bottom lip, at the feel of your hands on his back, and your hips flush to his as he filled the condom inside of you–the only physical barrier between his body and yours.

All that pent up tension he’d been harbouring for months and months seemed to quickly evaporate from his muscles as he melted into you, into your kiss and your tight hug. His ears were ringing a bit, but he didn’t mind. All he could care about was the fact that you were right there, pressed completely against him.

After he left one more kiss on your lips, he pulled back just enough to look at you. You smiled at him, a genuine smile that had his heart skipping every other beat inside his ribcage. He returned the gesture, just as you brought your hand to push his now soaked fringe away from his forehead, pulling him down to press a kiss right there, making him chuckle in disbelief.

Once he pulled himself away from you completely, he carefully slid the condom off of his length, tying a knot to make sure nothing spilled out. Taking the discarded foil packed, he placed it on your nightstand and laid the condom on top of it to dispose of later. 

As he laid back down, he simply looked at you. You had that look in your eyes, the one you hardly ever showed to the people around you… Vulnerability. Minho always saw it after you two had sex, and he knew that under that vulnerability there was something, many unsaid words that you wouldn’t dare say out loud to him. 

“Marry me”, Minho broke the silence, and you huffed an incredulous chuckle.

“Aren’t you tired of asking me to marry you?” 

“Are you tired of me asking you to marry me?”

You went silent for a moment, just looking into his eyes. Minho didn’t really need you to respond, he knew what the answer was. 

“No, I’m not”, you replied simply, exactly what he knew you would say. “How would we even make a marriage work? We can’t even make a relationship work, Lee Minho”. 

“We’ve never tried”. 

It was true. Although the connection he shared with you was laps more than physical, you’d never entertained the possibility of a relationship. You hadn’t let him try, and he hadn’t been persistent–sure, he asked you to marry him every other encounter you had, but he never really pushed it. Because he knew it was a complex situation, him being an outlaw, a pirate, a rebel, and you being a smuggler, both probably with hefty bounties on your heads.

“Do you want to try?” you sounded genuinely incredulous, almost as if you had just realised that he was being genuine about it.

Minho propped his head on his elbow, just looking at you. And then it dawned on him. “You’ve never thought I was being serious when I asked you to marry me before, have you?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but ultimately, you shook your head, and he couldn’t help but scoff, dropping his head back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. 

“Well, I have been. Every time”.

“But why?” Your voice was barely a whisper, and when he turned to look at you his heart clenched just by seeing tears collect in your eyes. You didn’t let them fall, though.

“Because I love you”, Minho replied simply. “You’re clever, fun, one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, you’ve saved my life numerous times. Whenever I’m with you I feel at peace, and when I’m not, I worry about you, about your health, or I wonder if you’re out there getting yourself in trouble and I’m not there to help… I’ve just… Been in love with you for years, and I can’t keep on going pretending that I’m not. That I’m okay leaving your bed or an inn or you leaving my ship as if I don’t want you to stay”.

Minho could feel the lump in his throat, the way his voice shook slightly, but he didn’t care. He needed to let those thoughts out now, otherwise he wasn’t sure how long it would be until he got this boost of courage again. He honestly hadn’t even realised how much he’d been hurting with this until the words came out of his mouth. He’d spent years pretending this arrangement was fine. It clearly wasn’t. At least not anymore.

You went quiet for a while. A long while. Minho was honestly starting to second-guess ever opening his mouth, and it was just as he was about to stand up from that bed that you finally moved, wrapping one of your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

“I hadn’t thought… I didn’t think…” You were rambling, your voice was muffling against his skin, it was hard to understand anything you were saying with the verbiage that was coming out of your mouth

“Hey… It’s okay”, Minho dragged his hands up and down your spine, hugging you even tighter against him, effectively stopping your ramble. “Breathe…”

You took a deep breath, draping your leg over his hips and pulling him even closer to you, which did ease his worries a bit–at least you weren’t kicking him out of your bed just yet.

“You smell nice…” You mumbled suddenly, rubbing your face on his chest. It immediately made his heart race and his chest flush. Minho wanted to say something, but honestly, the words were stuck in his throat, suddenly feeling bashful, as if he wasn’t naked on your bed after having sex with you.

When you finally pulled away from his chest, you looked him in the eyes, looking incredibly vulnerable. Minho simply brought a hand to your cheek, feeling your heated skin under his palm as his thumb moved back and forth.

“Minho… Every time you go, every time I leave, my heart just hurts so much. And I honestly don’t know how to deal with it. With my feelings, or how we could even make this work”.

“I’m sure we can figure something out… Maybe not today, maybe not even this week, but I’m sure we can”.

You closed your eyes then, heaving a sigh. “You know this isn’t gonna be easy, right?”

“I’m aware”, Minho’s lips quirked up a bit, suddenly amused by your choice of words, and he couldn’t help but bring even more clarity to it. “It hasn’t been easy until now, either, has it?” You gave him a smile as well, opening your eyes again. “I’m willing to take my chances. I… Really want to try”.

Your gaze flickered between his eyes for a bit, and then you were leaning in, pressing a tender, brief kiss on his lips. 

“I want that, too”, you whispered, pecking his lips once again, murmuring the most tender ‘I love you’ as you hugged him even tighter, making Minho go impossibly redder, making his heart beat so fast he thought it would leap out of his chest. “If you don’t come back alive from your insane borderline suicide mission, I’ll personally go to the afterlife and kill you again”.

Minho chuckled, pecking your lips. “If you help me then you can make sure I don’t die at all, sweetheart”.

“Huh, so that’s why you’re here now professing your love to me? Trying to seduce me into helping you fulfil your pirate affairs?” Pushing him to lay on his back, you got on top of him, kissing him time and time again. His heart felt as if it was ready to burst, and for a brief moment, it was almost as if everything was okay. As if everything would be fine.

“Need I remind you you brought me into this room yourself?” With a hand on your bum and the other on the back of your neck, Minho simply kept kissing you, uncaring of anything happening outside of these walls. 

“Don’t change the topic”.

“Is it working, though? Am I successfully seducing you?”

You scoffed at that, pressing one loud, final kiss on his lips before you shuffled around, sitting on him, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest. “Of course I’m gonna fucking help you, Lee Minho. But not because you’ve got the best stroke game I’ve ever experienced, but because I stupidly believe in your cause”.

“Gods… Keep inflating my ego, please”, Minho couldn’t help but groan. His hands immediately found your hips, kneading the soft flesh there. “I just love it when you do”.

“I know you do”, you grinned, dragging one of your hands all over his flushed chest, up his neck, finally settling it on his cheek.

Minho caught your hand in his, keeping it in place as he turned to press a kiss to your palm. Your gaze shifted then, that playful glint you usually had when you teased him replaced by something else, something akin to love, maybe even hope. And in that moment, he seriously believed everything would be okay. That he’d be able to save his friends, free the slaves, and make it out alive. That he’d finally get to truly be by your side.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @tasteleeknow · @biribarabiribbaem · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper users in purple can’t be tagged. If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

#lee know smut #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho smut #minho fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #✨🌙✏

[1-800fandomqueen]

Murdered 1462

Vladislaus Dragulia x fem!reader

Part Two

WC : 3.7K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mentions of witchcraft, verbal abuse, murder, canon-typical violence and story-line, pregnancy, death, etc.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

“Born: 1422… Murdered: 1462.”

‘I was born into a noble family, my father was the duke of Hungary.’

Slipping into the more tame selection of your clothing, muting the sound of ruffling cloth as much as possible to not wake you lady-in-waiting, Agnes, who had fallen asleep whilst handling your linens. Once dressed, you throw a shawl over your head in any attempt to hide your identity. You’d been hated by the townspeople ever since you and your father had travelled here for business, the small-minded people of Transylvania already despised the idea of foreigners, but the idea of you and the rumor of the practice you brought along? Most claimed you to be a witch. But alas, even their hatred couldn’t extinguish your spirit.

Sneaking out had never been easier. 

You’d always been an adventurous person, something your father always chastised you for. He believed ladies should sit still, sit quietly, and sit pretty. He had an image to uphold, and he couldn’t have his only child galavanting around town, acting improper. He used to let you do as you please, but when the plague took your mother he became cold, harsh. 

Feeling the cold air hit your skin as you shimmy out the window and down the trellis until your shoes hit the ground with a small thud, making a small promise to yourself to be back before dawn. The entire grounds of the house were fenced in, with guards stationed at the main gate. You couldn’t exit out that way as they would stop you the second they saw you. But unbeknownst to them, you’d discovered a break in a part of the fence. Shimmying out the back, you begin the trek down the hill the house sits on to the village. 

~~~

‘It had been cold when I met him, when he saved me. If he hadn’t shown when he did, I fear I would have been no longer. ‘

“You can run but you can’t hide, witch!” You were growing tired, legs and feet burning with effort. When turning a corner in the marketplace you’d run into someone,  knocking the shawl off your head, revealing your identity. You’d garnered the attention of a group of particularly cruel drunkards, who began to hurl obscenities towards you. And before you could even blink, they began chasing you. You tried to throw them off, hoping all your time exploring would have given you enough of a terrain advantage. But the feeling of someone grabbing the back of your shawl and pulling you to the ground steals all your hope of getting away. 

Pain absorbs your back as you land hard and fast on the cold ground. The early morning dew seeps through your dress as the cold air fogs your breath as it leaves your lungs from the impact, the main perpetrator kneeling on your neck, cutting off your air supply. One of the other men wrapping your feet and hands with rope. Your ears rang as your head snapped back against a rock, vision going foggy. You couldn’t hear what the men were saying to you, only that they were taunting you. You were able to make out the blur of a mass of light coming towards you, and it was only when the heat brushed against your face could you tell it was fire. 

You tried to fight back, to struggle. But with the mans’ knee against your throat, the lack of oxygen was making you weak. As the black spots were so close to entirely filling your vision, the man suddenly lets off of you, and the heat of the fire goes away. You cough, rolling over onto your elbows and knees as you try to regain your breath. You can hear the men pleading to a deep voice for mercy, and then your vision returns in time to watch as they run away.

“Are you alright?” 

‘I didn’t even know his name, he wouldn’t give it to me. All I knew was that I was utterly captivated by him.’

The deep accented voice held your attention entirely, as the man attached to that voice crouched down next to you, a gentle hand placed on your back. “Madam? Are you alright?” Gasping out, feeling like your vocal chords are completely crushed, only able to choke out a small “yes.” The hand on the small of your back stays while one reaches to your left forearm, grabbing it to help you up. And when you stumble backwards, the firm body of the stranger is there to catch you. 

When you’ve regained your breath, and were able to stand on your own, you stepped away from the stranger. “Who are you?” gazing at the man before you and trying to map his features by only what you could see in the barely-there moonlight. You’ve decided by what little of him you could see, that he was still undoubtedly handsome. Slightly taller than you, possibly 6-foot, dark hair, and shockingly blue eyes. 

“Who I am is of no importance at the moment,” the deep voice jolting you out of your stupor, “But it is important to know why a group of beţivii (drunks) were attacking a young woman in the forest?” At the mention of your attack you feel the pain seep into your neck, adrenaline finally beginning to wear off. Letting out a cough as your hand comes to gently cup the base of your neck. “Well, Romanians tend to be quite wary of foreigners, and you’ve just bore witness to the fact that they don’t particularly like me.” your tone clipped, pulling a deep chuckle from the man. 

You feel blush overtake your visage as you realize how rude that sounded, embarrassment filling you at your rudeness to the man who saved you. “I’m sorry, I’m usually not this rude I swear, I’m still just a little frightened. Thank you, by the way, for coming to my aid. I’ll ask my father to make sure you’re rewarded for your valiant efforts.” The stranger ignores your apology and thanks, “Your father?” his head tilted to the side, pieces of hair falling across his face, “Yes my father, He’s the Duke of Hungary, we’re here on diplomatic business.” “Hmm, for what?” You falter and cover your mouth, giving the man an apologetic look. You’re relieved when he seems to pick up on what you’re implying, even though he gives you a dark, brief, look of knowing,  “I understand, trade secrets.” He says with a slight smile, holding out his arm. “Here, it’s almost dawn, let me accompany you back to wherever you’re staying.”

And with a small smile, you take his arm. 

‘I didn’t anticipate what would happen when I took his arm. That my world was about to turn, that taking his arm on that cold, damp, morning, signed my death.’ 

It was a lovely walk back, filled with small talk and pleasantries. When you approached the doors to the Governor’s house, you could hear the commotion before you saw it. When the stranger accompanying you opened the door, his right elbow still linked with your left, all the commotion suddenly came to a screeching halt. Several pairs of eyes turned to you, including those of Agnes, then the faces attached to all those eyes paled when they saw the man whose arm you still held. When your father called you towards him, a dark look in his eye, you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “Step away from him. “ Your father beckoned, he hadn’t looked this grim since the doctor in Hungary told him of your mothers fate. 

Swallowing in nervousness you look up to the man accompanying you only to find him already looking down at you, a rather downcast look in his eyes. Your father calls again, walking towards you. “Step away. Now.” You stare long and hard at the man by your side until he gently nudges you towards the others in the room. You failed to notice until you looked up that most of the guards in the room had their weapons aimed towards him. Stepping away from him you’re immediately met by your lady in waiting coming and sweeping you up the stairs. “Lock her in her room Agnes, until I call for her.” You throw one last glance towards the man to find him still staring at you. Turning the hall, Agnes gently pushes you into your room, and before she shuts the door behind you, the angry conversation from the foyer floods into the room. “What were you doing with my daughter, Impaler.”

‘I suppose it wasn’t a bad situation, after all I was quite taken with him, even if I didn’t know who he was at first. I didn’t fear him, even though everyone else did.’

It was what felt like hours before you heard a key being inserted in the lock of the door. Bounding up from the bed to be greeted by the sight of two guards when the door swung open. You weren’t able to utter a single word when you were grabbed by both arms and dragged away from your room, well actually the room belonged to your Stranger, in your time locked in you had discovered from Agnes that Vlad was the Military Governor of Romania, and that you and all the diplomats were currently residing in his house. 

Ironic how things work out. 

 When you asked where you were being taken you were met with utter silence, the guards only tightening their grip after you tried to pull away. Only feeling ease when the door to what you recognize to be the master study of the house was yanked open and you were promptly thrown in. 

Glancing up at the long table to see other diplomats lining the perimeter, your father and who you've come to know as Vlad the Impaler, gracing the far end of the table. “What’s going on?” questioned towards your father even though your eyes are locked with Vlads. Your father says nothing to you as he quietly sends off the others in the room, leaving only the three of you. You only move when he quirks a finger in a come-hither gesture, your eyes glued to your socked feet as you cross your hands in front of your legs. “You understand the reason for my business here,” your father says, “to create a treaty with him” word spoken with venom, “to prevent him from causing any more destruction and massacre off to the West” Saying nothing, only giving a slight nod, still looking down. “Well everything was lined up perfectly, but now, the Voivode (governor) has added a new term to the treaty. Your hand in marriage.”

Feeling your eyes bulge out of their sockets as your head flies up, immediately shouting out “What?” the glare your father sticks on you prevents you from saying anymore. “You heard me girl.” grabbing your arm as he drags you to the farthest corner of the room. “And as much as I hate to do this, you will marry him. You’re reaching your twentieth year and still haven’t married, and I will not jeopardize the well-state of Hungary just because you decide to be stupid and prance around in the town unsupervised.” Your jaw dropping in shock, eyes welling with tears. This man before you was not your father, in all fairness he hadn’t been much of a father after your mother died but his words still hurt nonetheless. 

“Your grace, I would like a moment alone with your daughter.” your father turns red-faced, the beginnings of a protest forming in his mind, “It wasn’t a suggestion.” One elegant finger pointing towards the door, “Leave. Now.” huffing, your father pushes past you and storms towards the door, the loud sound of it banging closed behind you causes you to jump, a small cry of fear leaving your lips. 

Now it was just you and him. With your head still down you didn’t notice his approach until perfectly polished shoes fell just within your line of sight. Your name being gently called as a rough hand softly finds itself upon the back of your elbow. “I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.” His right hand coming to your chin and tipping your head up, Blue eyes coming into contact with yours once again. “I hope you know I do not wish to cause you distress with my proposal.” You nod profusely, muttering out a soft repeating of “I know.” The same hand on your chin moves up to wipe the tears you didn’t know had fallen. For a man who had killed thousands with those same hands, when he was near it was nothing but gentle touches. “Our marriage doesn’t have to be immediate, I’m not immune to the benefits of a little light courtship, however I am reaching an age no bachelor ever should.” Words spoken with a joking lilt, Vlad briefly hunching over. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight of his horrible interpretation of an old person. 

The two of you are launched into a comfortable silence, and you realize that with all that you’ve learned about this man in the past however many hours didn’t scare you as much as it probably should’ve. And with this newfound bravery and lack of fear, you confidently reach and grab the hand that’s resting on your cheek and with as much courage as you could muster, and you accept his proposal. 

‘Being with him wasn’t at all what I thought it would be. He was nothing but kind to me, nothing but gentle touches and words all throughout our marriage.’

With the treaty being settled and your newfound courtship with a certain military general, everyone left back to their home territories, including your father. Him practically trading you off to sell his own skin didn’t hurt as much as it used too. He left quickly and with promise that most of your possessions still in Hungary would be sent down to Romania. You kept Agnes with you, after all she’d been one of your closest confidants since your mother had died. When the spring of 1460 came along, it brought your twentieth birthday and marriage ceremony with it. 

It was a truly gorgeous ceremony. While not filled with pomp and circumstance, it was graceful, elegant. Your pursuer wasn’t exactly poorer, and you were able to have the most gorgeous gown you’d thought you’d ever seen. You had Agnes of all people walk you down the aisle, seeing as your father hadn’t thought to show even though invitations had been sent weeks in advance. You had been introduced to an estranged number of people at your wedding. Your husbands’ father, Valerious, who served a group of Holy Knights. He proved to be a rather cynical man, yet seemed to be nice once you’d gotten to know him. 

You couldn’t help but notice, however, a man who always hovered near the back. He was tall, dark hair, covered in black clothing, however you could never make out his face. You knew he was watching you, even when separated from Vlad you could feel the glare of someone constantly burning into the back of your neck. Everytime you garnered your husband's attention to question him about the man, he seemed to have disappeared, swallowed by the shadows he hid in. 

Marriage to one of the most dangerous men on this side of the Balkans wasn’t bad. He always treated you with a gentle hand, was never harsh, never cruel, and he never-ever raised his voice. When questioned on his docile behavior his reasoning behind it being that you were his wife, and you should never need to fear him. 

When you came to find out that he didn’t live in the palace-like house you were staying in when you first arrived in Romania you were slightly shocked. No, instead he lived in a citadel, a castle near the Arges River; Poenari. And what a beautiful place it was. You much preferred the secludism of this house than the one in the town. The view of the mountains and the fresh air they produced was always a reprieve. Your room was in the highest level of one of the castle spires, with a large window parallel to your bed, so you always woke to the stunning view of the sunrise. 

You were however surprisingly lonely most of the time. As it would turn out, being someone of extreme military prowess took a lot of your husband's time away from you. If it weren’t for Agnes and the few estranged workers who milled around the estate you fear you’d have gone mad. When he wasn’t busy trying to take over most of Europe, he was a very caring man. Giving you luxurious gifts, taking you on trips. His love took you into the deepest throes of passion, both physically and metaphorically. 

You truly couldn’t ask for a better husband.

‘It was raining that night, not quite cold enough for it to snow. I can’t remember that much, I just remember how scared I was.’

The rain crashed against your window, thunder and lightning taking the sky ever-so-often, Vlad wasn’t in bed even though it was quite late. He was having a very crucial meeting, about what you didn’t know, he’d only come to your room to tell you not to wait on him, to go on and sleep, and to bestow a small kiss to you and your rotund stomach. 

After almost two years of marriage, the summer of 1462 blessed you with news of a child. With Poenari being so far from any doctors, your dear Agnes stepped in as a midwife of sorts, making sure you were healthy; sleeping and eating well. She said that springtime would be when your child would finally make their appearance into the world, and you were eaten alive with both anticipation and excitement. 

But with your pregnancy came all sorts of changes. For example, it might have been the dead of winter, but you felt as if you were burning alive. Dressed in nothing but one of your husband's shirts and your undergarments you couldn’t find it in yourself to combat the heat. Grabbing the side of the mattress and your bedside-table, you heave yourself off the bed, reaching for your thin silk robe.

You failed to notice the dark figure in the corner of your room. 

Shuffling over to the other side of the room you go to feel around the box of matches off one of the bookshelves, to relight the lamp on your side-table. Once you find what you’re looking for, you turn on your heel right as lightning strikes and lights up the room. It was for only a moment, but that split-second of light was all you needed to see the man standing in the corner of the room closest to your door. You almost think it’s your husband playing a trick on you, but the rational part of your brain understands that Vlad would never do that to you, especially in your current condition. With the man so close to the door you surely can’t run, so you do the only other thing you could think of.

Scream and hope your husband or a guard hears you in time.

You didn’t even register how loud your scream was, your body going into fight or flight mode the second the man lunges forwards. You bolt as quickly as you could to your Husbands’ side of the bed to grab a dagger he keeps next to him off his side-table. You turn to stab your assailant as he reaches to grab you. He clutches your wrist faster than you could keep up with, pushing it back and trying to twist your own wrist towards you. Crying out as it reaches an angle it shouldn’t, you propel your knee forward into his groin which gives you enough time to run around the other side of the bed and towards the door, reveling in his groan of pain.

As you work your way past the bed you feel the air around the back of your head shift and the next sound you hear is that of your window breaking. Ignoring the glass that flies all over the room, you crank open your bedroom door, screaming at the top of your lungs for help as you try to begin to make your way down the spiral staircase. It’s only when you hear voices shouting from below do you feel a hand wrap its way around the back of your neck, yanking you back up the stairs. You’re dragged through your room and brought to where your window once was, glass shards digging into your feet. Lightning strikes once more as you’re flipped around, back leaning out into the rainy abyss, and you’re able to get a better glimpse of your attacker.

It’s the man from your wedding. 

Right as you reach this epiphany the door to your room slams open, your husband entering. He calls your name, hand lifting in the air and weakly falling back. “Don’t do this Gabriel,” he pleads, “Please let go of my wife.” The mystery man, Gabriel, pushes you further, your back bending at an awkward angle out and into the chilling rain. “I’m sorry,” your assailant murmurs, “But you broke the oath.” 

And with that, he pushes you out the window. 

You can’t tell if that sound is you screaming or if it’s the wind rushing past your head. Your hair whips around your face as rain projectiles onto you like tiny bullets. The last thing you see is your Husband leaning out the window, gazing at you in defeated sorrow, and a gloved hand coming around, plunging a dagger into his chest. 

You’re not quite sure how you die. Whether your body slammed onto the hard ground hundreds of feet below your bedroom, or if you land in the Arges. All you remember is that brief bit of searing pain,

And then everything went dark. 

~

Originally posted December 2nd, 2021.

#dracula x reader #count vladislaus dragulia x reader #count vladislaus dracula x reader #Van Helsing (2004) #vampire x reader #1-800fandomqueen #mywriting

[writercole]

Manspreading

Summary: Public transportation comes with many potential hazards, including sharing a seat with someone you don't like.

Squares: Sat in their lap - spnfluff // Neighbors - Resa's 3k

Words: 2371

Warnings: Innuendo, Jake's cocky ass.

Credits: @ryebecca for the idea. @princessmisery666 for the beta and the squeal.

A/N: This was borne out of Bees complaining about riding with men on the subway. It didn't take long to figure out that it was a rivals to lovers. Gotta listen to the characters. It's their story after all.

It had been the longest day of my life. Traipsing up and down floors in LouBoutain pumps killed me, I hadn’t slept the night before, and lunch was a snickers bar. So when I walked onto my train and found that there were two empty seats beneath some jackass’s manspread legs, I snapped. 

I walked right over and sat on his lap. How I didn’t chicken out halfway there confounded me.

“Excuse me, this seat is taken,” his voice rumbled in my ear. I froze immediately. I knew that voice.

“Well, Jacob, if you weren’t manspreading across three seats, I wouldn’t have to be sitting here,” I spat, not turning to meet his eyes. 

“Come on, darlin, you knew you were just looking for an excuse to ride my thigh,” he drawled. I knew I’d see a cocky smirk on his face and refused to look at him.

Instead I shut my eyes and growled, regretting several decisions that led me here.

“Oh, that was sexy. Do it again.”

My eyes snapped open and I finally met his gaze, finding exactly the expression I expected, the one he used on female clients to get them to swoon and give him anything he wanted, a smug charm that made my stomach flip. “If you’d just move your leg, I’d be out of your hair.”

I wasn’t prepared for him to bounce his leg like  I wasn’t sitting on it , like I weighed nothing. God I hate this man. 

“I am not in the mood to play games with you, Seresin,” I grumbled. “I have had a long ass day, these heels are killing me, and I haven’t had anything but a Snickers bar and a protein shake all day.”

“Then I guess you have to let me buy you dinner.” The way he winked at me made my panties dampen and skin burn. I refused to let him know that, though.

“I’ve had enough of your insufferable face at work today, thanks.”

“Insufferable, huh? I bet I could change your mind in one night.” 

I looked him up and down and leaned in close, watching the amusement and victory in his eyes as our noses brushed. “In your dreams, asshole,” I whispered, pulling back with a satisfactory smirk at his bewildered stare.

Unfortunately for me, he recovered quickly.

“You’re in my dreams often enough, sweetheart. And believe me, I have no problem changing your mind there.” 

“Does that line actually work?” My patience was wearing very thin.

“I’ll tell you,” he promised,” Over dinner.”  

“I’m not hungry,” I shrugged. Of course at that moment my stomach decided to growl and betray me.

“You have had a protein shake and a snickers bar today,” repeated Jake, “let me buy you dinner. You can even continue to throw shade at me if you want.”

“Look, Jake,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “I really just want to go home, order a large pizza and curl up in my armchair with my favorite blanket and a good book.”

“Tomorrow, then,” he suggested, his tone persistent but with a hint of what sounded like hope. The train started to slow, preparing to stop at the next station. “This is my stop, darlin. Unfortunately, I’m going to need you to get your pretty face up.”

Maybe I was more lethargic than I thought because that trace of genuine hope had me a little dazed. So much so, I almost didn’t realize this was my stop too. How had I never seen him on the train before?  

“Dinner, tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he joined the crowd of people gathering at the doors. 

I shuffled along behind them, running through everything that had transpired since I’d boarded the train. Somehow, my main competition at work took the same train and got off at the same stop and had an answer for everything I said. 

I was lost in my thoughts when a shove came from behind me and I was pushed into the solid mass of the person in front of me. He whipped around and I was prepared to utter a stream of apologies until…

“You could have just said something, darlin, you didn’t have to run into me.” I just wanted to slap that grin off of his face.

“I was shoved.”

“That’s one way to get my attention, though.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re doing enough of that for me.”

“I didn’t realize you were into degradation, Seresin,” I snorted as I made my way towards the stairs.

“I could be into a lot of things for you.”

“You have the opposite effect on me. You could drive me out of things I was into,” I chirped as I tried to get away from him.

“Oh really? And what would those things be?” It was infuriating how easily he was keeping up with me.

“Haven’t thought about it.”

“Fine, but I bet you’ve thought about me naked,” he called.

“Oh no, am I really that transparent? I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” I sassed with a roll of my eyes, something that I’d been doing quite a lot today, and sped up through a gap, leaving him behind me.

I finally reached the top of the staircase, ready to duck into the nearest shop I could find to avoid him further until I caught sight of Conner. My ex was heading my way with his arm around a beautiful, thin, perfectly proportioned blonde. Giggling. 

My eyes widened and I spun around, ready to head back into the subway, but instead found Jake cresting the top of the stairs. I grabbed his hand and pulled him close, silencing any protests when my lips met his. He hummed and his arm slid around my waist to pull me close while his other hand tangled in my hair. His tongue parted my lips expertly and he deepened the kiss, only to be interrupted by Conner calling my name. 

I gave Jake a look that screamed ‘please go with it’ as I wiped my mouth and turned. “Oh, Conner, hi,” I greeted, a little light headed. Perhaps it was the lack of sustenance, but I think it had more to do with the kiss from the man standing beside him, with a smug grin and a hand firmly on the small of my back.

“Uh, hi. You, uh, you look good,” he stuttered. His focus was on Jake by my side instead of me, instead of his date.

I guess I should have been proud. Or maybe offended?

“Who’s this, sweetheart?” Jake asked, tugging me tighter to his side.

“This is my ex-boyfriend, Conner,” I introduced, “Conner, this is Jake, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meetcha, Conner,” Jake said, extending his hand.

Conner just looked at it and then directed his attention to me. “Moving on, huh?”

“Looks like you did the same,” I quipped, turning to the blonde. “And what’s your name?”

“Alyssa,” she squeaked as she tucked herself into Conner.

“Conner, Alyssa, it was nice meeting you both, but we’re late for our reservation,” Jake interrupted. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Nice to see you, Con,” I shrugged as I let Jake pull me away. We walked a block before I stepped out of his grip. “Thanks for that,” I told him quietly.

“It wasn’t a problem,” dismissed Jake. “But I think you should tell me what that was about over dinner.”

I sighed heavily before responding. “Fine, but I’m buying. It’s the least I can do for assaulting you.”

“That was assaulting me?” he grinned. “Where do I sign up for you to do that again?”

I just rolled my eyes before heading towards my favorite pizza shop. He caught up quickly and we walked in silence, Jake keeping his mouth uncharacteristically shut until after our orders were placed.

“So what’s the story with Conner?” he asked quietly.

“Um, so, we dated for a year,” I started, “maybe a little longer. He kept saying things about how he couldn’t wait to move in together and how excited he was that my lease was going to be up soon and maybe we should just buy a house for when we have kids. I kept thinking I’d find feelings like his one day but it never happened. 

“Then, during the last charity gala, he proposed. Very publicly.” I paused for a drink. Jake was there at the gala. He knew what had happened from there.

“Ah, yeah. I remember that,” he chuckled. “That was you?”

“Mhmm.” 

“That was the talk of the office until…until Jerry flubbed that presentation.”

“Anyway, I threw myself into my work and started pushing hard for that promotion. I couldn’t think of any better way to prove I was fine except succeeding in my career.”

“And you have. So why the panic?” 

“I may or may not have insinuated that I could do better than him,” I admitted, avoiding his gaze. 

I had no idea why I was telling Jake all of this. It’s not like I knew him, it’s not like he cared. But when I looked up, I wasn’t met with derision and mocking, I was met with a softness and understanding. 

“I get it. You wanted to show him up. But why me?”

“I was honestly going to go hide in the crowd. I didn’t plan on kissing you. I didn’t even know I was doing it until you hummed.” Might as well stick with honesty.

“Oh, so it wasn’t because you decided to take me up on my offer to change your mind about me?” he teased, wagging his eyebrows at me across the table.

I laughed and shoved his arm, making him chuckle as well. It surprised me how easily conversation flowed between us. For the longest time, he’d been a bitter rival of mine and now, here he was, almost like we were friends.

This was a different side of the Jake I’d see around the office. He’d ditched his jacket and loosened his tie, even going so far as to roll up his sleeves. He talked about tv shows he watched and criticized my taste in movies with a teasing smile. 

He asked questions about me and my life and friends and for every detail he learned about me, he dished out one about himself. None of it surprised me until he said he’d spent time in the Navy.

“You joined the Navy right out of high school? Why?”

“Family tradition,” he shrugged. 

“So you joined the Navy because your family wanted you to, you’re in the business world because your dad forced you into a business degree. What do you do because you want to?”

“What do you do?”

“Promise not to make a joke?” I asked. I’d never had a good reaction when I revealed my hobbies.

“I will do my absolute best not to make a joke but if you tell me you’re a mime, all bets are off,” he laughed, his hands up in surrender.

“I write.”

“Why would I make a joke about you writing for a hobby?” he questioned.

“Because it’s dumb that I write stories when there are so many that I could just go read,” I explained, using the words that several people had used to devalue my likes and the way I spent my time.

“Who cares if there’s a bunch of stories you can go read? The ones you write are going to be in your own voice and reflect your own experiences,” he countered.

“Well, what do you do?”

“I draw,” he shrugged.

That surprised me. “You draw?”

“Yeah. I started in high school when I needed to escape from the insanity of the perfect world my father wanted. My art teacher said I had a talent but it never felt like something I wanted to do for other people. It was more…”

“Something you wanted to keep for yourself,” I supplied, nodding along with the words.

“Exactly!”

I checked my watch and saw that we had been in the pizza parlor for three hours. “I should probably get home. It’s getting kind of late.”

“Oh damn,” Jake exclaimed when he checked the time. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jake,” I protested, “You were at the office before me this morning. You have to be exhausted.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he rebutted, “but I want to walk you home.”

I paid the bill and we stepped out into the night. The streets were closer to empty than they had been all day and the temperatures had dropped enough that it was almost chilly. A shiver crept up my spine and before I’d finished shivering Jake’s jacket enveloped me. I looked up at him, seeing him in a different light, both literally and figuratively.

“What?” he questioned. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

“You’ve surprised me at every turn tonight,” I admitted with a smile.

He just hummed as we walked along, his hands in his pockets and his jacket wrapped around me. 

“This is me,” I mumbled as I drew to a stop in front of my building.

“Well, at least it’s a short walk home for me,” he quipped. I furrowed my brow and he gestured across the street. “The only dark apartment on the fourth floor.”

I looked up at my building and laughed. “Same.”

Jake joined me, his deep chuckle rumbling through the space between us. “I can’t believe we live across from each other, on the same floor.”

“Seems crazy, right?” 

“Yeah, crazy. Or maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe?”

“Walk you to work tomorrow?” he offered.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t take up three seats with your manspreading,” I demanded, a slight smirk creeping onto my face.

“How am I going to get you back in my lap again?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

He nodded, his expression contorting to one of ponderance. When his gaze met mine again, he smiled and stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek before his lips met mine, softly asking permission for a real kiss. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, melting into his warmth. He smiled softly when he pulled back, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“I should go,” he whispered.

“Or you could stay.”

“I don’t want to rush into anything. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Progressing from dinner to breakfast seems to be moving pretty quickly buuuuut..I’ll allow it,” I giggled. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

#writercole #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman seresin #hangman businessman au #business au #neighbors #rivals to flirting #possibly more to come

[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 3

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so so much for the love on this fic so far <3 Like I've said countless times before, AU's are nerve-wracking - especially one as unhinged as this one - so I really appreciate the support.

Please let me know what you think <3

Note: tumblr is tumblring, so tags aren't necessarily working. Please interact with this if you see it <3

-x-

Words: 3k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“You should get some sleep.” 

She scoffs as she turns to look at Dave, tearing her eyes from the screen just for a moment before she looks back at it, her lips pressed together as she shakes her head, “I can’t sleep.” 

Dave sighs and sits down on the couch next to her, he sits so he’s in her line of vision, blocking the television, and he smiles at her with so much sympathy it makes her want to scream. She looks away, the opulence of the apartment they were always put in when in the Capitol makes her feel suffocated, the large expansive space with amenities people at home couldn’t even imagine putting her on edge. 

It had always been something that had irritated her, the cruelty of the fact she was living like this whilst children were fighting to the death never failed to make her skin itch, but this year it felt worse. The knowledge that Aaron could die and she couldn’t do anything to help beyond hope he made it out alive made sleep almost impossible, the thought of waking up to find out he’d been killed whilst she was sleeping was too much to bear.

Especially because her sheets still smelt like him, the lingering scent tricking her into thinking he was right there with her the first few seconds she was awake, a precious moment of joyful ignorance of the reality they lived in. 

“I don’t know him as well as you do, but something tells me if he comes out to find you sleep deprived and barely hanging on he won’t be happy,” Dave says, and Emily smiles wryly and nods. 

“That’s true,” she says her gaze drifting back to the television, anxiety building in her chest as she once again desperately hopes to see him on screen, to have the reassurance that he was still alive. She can feel Dave’s stare burning into her and she turns to look at him, concern bleeding out of him in a way she hadn’t seen since her own games, “What?”

“Have you thought this all the way through, Bella?” He asks, his tone nothing short of loving, the kind of judgement free affection she’s sure she would have had from a father if she’d had one who hadn’t left when she was young. 

“Thought what all the way through?” She asks, purposely acting like she doesn’t know what he is talking about. 

Dave wasn’t stupid,  she knew that, and he would know Aaron had been sleeping in her room the entire time they’d been here. He also would have known that he’d been talking about her to Gideon, not Kate like almost everyone else including her had assumed. He’d been playing this game since before she was born, aware of the ever changing and twisting rules. Rules that had been created to make sure even the winners walked away with no real victory. 

He smiles softly and sighs, “If he survives and you two…do this. There will be expectations of you both,” he clears his throat, choosing his words carefully, both of them well aware that there was no such thing as a private conversation here, “You would have very little choice in what your life would look like.” 

She hadn’t allowed herself to think about it in any great detail beyond the hope that Aaron would survive, that the rushed confessions on the rooftop the day before he went into the arena wouldn’t be all they’d ever have. He’d slept in her bed that night too, and for the first time, they didn’t fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed. She’d curled up in his arms and rested her head on his chest, the same position they always woke up in, and she fell asleep and dreamt of a world where he would come back to her. 

She knows that Dave is right, that if Aaron did survive and their relationship was public, something that was unavoidable, there would be expectations from President Barnes. They’d have to get married, which even if they wanted to it wouldn’t be anything like what they’d choose. It would be a spectacle, the celebrity status that came with being a Victor something she hated. They’d be expected to have children. Children she didn’t want because she already knew what their fate would be, destined to follow in their parent's footsteps at some point. Children she once said she’d never have but would love with her entire heart until they were taken from her by the same people who had made her have them. 

It was unbearable to think about, pre-emptive grief for something that might not even happen if Aaron died filling her lungs. 

She blows out a shaky breath and she nods at him. 

“I know,” she says, laughing humourlessly, “But I’ve had very little choice in what my life looks like since I threw that fucking knife,” she says, wiping the one stray tear that had escaped her lashline away, getting rid of it as quickly as it had appeared, “At least with him…” 

“You wouldn’t be alone in it,” Dave finishes for her as she drifts off and she nods again, forcing another sigh from him before he stands up, his hand on her shoulder as he squeezes tightly, “Just make sure he understands it all too,” he says, his smile soft, full of hope that seemed misplaced, “When he makes it out.” 

She chuckles and nods, placing her hand briefly over his before he lets go. She knows it’s his way of saying he approves, that he hopes it works out for her, and she’s sure she’s never been more grateful for him. 

“I will do.” 

___

By day three of the games there are only ten tributes left. They hadn’t made it beyond the initial bloodbath with both of their tributes in years, so it felt like nothing short of a miracle that both Kate and Aaron were still alive. 

Dave insisted that she came with him to a viewing party, and convinced her that they had to keep up appearances and act as if this was just normal games for her, as if the man she was in love with wasn’t part of the show they were all watching whilst getting drunk. 

She groans as she sees Ian Doyle walking towards her, a familiar smirk on his face that makes her skin crawl

“Well, well, Emily Prentiss. You’ve been ignoring me,” he says, and she smiles politely at him, the same smile her mother had taught her when she was young painted across her face. 

“Yes,” she says, taking a sip of her drink, “And until right now it was working.” 

Ian had won when he was 13, one of the youngest ever winners, a decade ago. He was vicious even then, a violence to his victory that had stood out to everyone. He’d pursued her for years, flirting with her the moment she’d turned 16 in a way that had made Dave ultraprotective of her, purposely making sure there was distance between them whenever possible. 

“Now come on, that’s not very nice,” he says, smiling as he steps in closer, the smell of whiskey and smoke washing over her, “How about you let me take you out when this is all over?” He says smiling, “My tributes didn’t last long, yours probably don’t have much longer…we can drown our sorrows.” 

She chuckles, fake interest dripping from her smile as she leans in, “Not even if the president herself demanded it.” 

She thinks he’s going to say something else, his pride clearly hurt, but an explosion tears her attention away from the conversation and she looks at the screen, her breath catching in her chest as she watches Aaron get thrown from his feet. He’s flung through the air like he weighs nothing, like she didn’t know that simply having his arm thrown over her waist was enough to pin her in place. She swallows thickly as she walks closer, shrugging off Dave’s attempt to hold her back, and she does everything in her power to make sure she doesn’t physically react, her shoulders tight as she comes to a stop. 

The relief she feels when Aaron stands up is palpable, his weight against a nearby tree as he stumbles, stunned by the explosion. It takes him a few seconds to steady himself and then he’s up again, running towards where the explosion had happened. 

It’s only then that she sees Kate, and guilt washes over her as she realises she hadn’t even thought about her, all of her focus on Aaron. 

He drops to his knees next to her, his hands immediately covered in blood when he touches her, her injuries clearly too extensive to survive. 

“Kate,” Aaron says, shaking his head as he looks around as if searching for help they both knew wouldn’t come, “You’ve got to hold on. I…” he swallows thickly as he pushes her onto her side to see the damage, his eyes going wide when he sees the mess her back is in, exposed bone and muscle drawing gasps from the crowd around Emily. 

“Is it bad?” Kate asks as he lowers her back down and sits down next to her, looking over his shoulder for more danger, trying to stay alert in case someone comes to finish what they started. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks instead of answering her question and she shakes her head, “Good. It’s good it doesn’t hurt.” 

Kate smiles tightly and nods, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“When…when you said what you said during your interview, you were talking about Emily weren’t you?” 

It feels like a lifetime passes as Emily watches him weigh up his options. Everything around her comes to a stop, her breath catching in her chest as she stares at him, the way he nods in response makes her close her eyes. She can feel everyone looking at her, can hear the whispers as they all start to gossip.

“Then you need to make sure you go back to her,” Kate says, her voice getting weaker, her words slurring together, “One of us should go back home.” 

Aaron nods and he reaches out for her hand and squeezes it tightly, “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t be,” she says, her eyes drifting shut, “It’s not…” 

She drifts off, her words dying in her throat as a cannon rings out in the arena, making Emily jump ever so slightly, the sound always taking her right back to the arena herself. She looks back up at the screen and watches sadly as Aaron stands up and takes one last look at Kate before he walks away, a new determination in his step.

“Well,” Ian says, standing so close to her she can feel his breath on her neck. She turns to look at him, making a point of scrunching her nose up in disgust at him, “Now I know why you turned me down.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ian,” she says, taking a step back from him, “I’ve never needed an excuse to turn you down.” 

She walks away, making eye contact with Dave as she does so, and she desperately makes a point of ignoring how everyone is looking at her, how she feels like an animal in a zoo for the first time in years.

___

Emily jumps awake, not aware that she’d even fallen asleep in the first place as she gasps for air, her hand pressed against her chest as she takes in her surroundings.

“Emily, you’re okay,” Dave says, smiling softly at her, his hand on her shoulder as she looks around, realising that she had fallen asleep in the living room. Her eyes go wide as she looks over to the television, and Dave clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “He’s okay too. He’s still alive.” 

She nods rubbing her eyes as she sits up, “How long was I out?” 

“Only a few hours,” he says, “The girl from five and the boy from seven died.”

She frowns, “That leaves…”

“Just Aaron and that creep Foyet from four are left,” Dave says and he stands up, “It’s why I woke you up. They’re getting ready for the grand finale.” 

She blows out a shaky breath and she stands up, “I’ll get ready. I assume they’ll want us all out there.” 

“We can sit this one out, Bella,” he says as she starts to walk towards her room and she freezes in place. She turns to look at him, and he smiles sympathetically, as if she’d already lost Aaron, and it makes her ache, “We can make an excuse. Stay up here and give you some privacy.” 

She stares at him for a moment, affection for her friend, for how he’d protected her over the years flooding to the surface. She walks over and hugs him, sinking into the embrace when he hugs her back.

“We should go,” she says, smiling tightly at him when they pull back, “The first rule of being a Victor?” 

He smiles as she repeats what he’d said to her when she made it out of the arena, when she was scared and traumatised and wishing she’d died too. 

“Keep up appearances,” he says squeezing her shoulder before she steps back, “You won’t have long.”

She nods and walks towards her bedroom,  she pauses when she looks at the bed, the bed she hadn’t slept in for days, and she walks over her hand hovering over the pillow that had become Aaron’s. She picks it up and presses her face into it, breathing in the scent of him, letting it wash over her for a moment.

“Don’t die on me,” she says quietly, “Not now.” 

She gets ready in a haze, grateful that she’d turned down her stylist team, not sure she could cope with putting on a brave face until the last possible moment. When they get out to the main square it feels like everyone is looking at her instead of at the giant screen in front of them all, Aaron’s confession about loving her still lingering in everyone's minds all these days later. 

She’d always hated the jubilance that came with this, the excitement that lingered in the air as people were waiting to find out if they’d won their bets, if they had made money from the deaths of children. She had been bewildered her first time here, the year after she’d won. She’d felt out of place, like she was underwater as she watched people act like it was the party of the year whilst she wondered what people had made of her victory. If they thought it counted because she’d, according to some people, cheated by using the forcefield. 

She looks up at the giant screens, watches how the game makers clearly try and draw Aaron and George Foyet together. She stands tall, uses everything her mother had taught her about politics, about how to survive in the world they lived in. She uses everything Dave had taught her about being a survivor, what Penelope had taught her about the Capitol. She was the sum of everyone she’d ever known, of everything she had survived herself. 

She just hoped she’d get the chance to help Aaron do the same, to be part of what made him whole again. 

“I have a good feeling about this,” Dave says as he turns to look at her and she scoffs, shaking her head. 

“You’ve never lied to me before,” she replies, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t start now.” 

“He’ll make it back to you,” he says, winking at her in a way that relaxes her and makes her furious in equal measure, “He’d be a fool not to.” 

She smiles at him, his attempt at calming her down having worked, albeit briefly, but she’s drawn back to the spectacle of the games when she hears a yell, a scream she knows is Aaron. Foyet has him pinned down, a knife in his hand that glints in the artificial sun as he draws it out of him, the grunt that leaves Aaron animalistic. 

“Emily-”

“Don’t,” Emily says, cutting off Dave’s platitudes, her hands clenched by her sides as she stares at the screen, “Come on Aaron,” she says under her breath, “You’ve promised me a date.” 

She isn’t sure where Aaron gets his strength from, isn’t sure how he overpowers Foyet, but he does. He rolls them over, knocking the knife out of his hand at the same time, and he punches him. Hard. It’s something he repeats again and again, and she finds it oddly mesmerising. The crunch of Foyet’s bones, the sound as his teeth gave way under fists that had never been anything other than soft with her.  

Foyet collapses, his head falling to the side as he passes out, and Aaron breathes heavily as he pulls back, his knuckles bleeding from where his skin had broken against the other man’s face. He tries to stand up but he stumbles, falling next to Foyet, his hands against the wounds he’d given him, blood seeping through his fingers as his eyes drift shut. 

The transmission cuts out, the screen goes black and the crowd yells in disappointment. Emily turns to Dave, her eyes wide as she looks at him. 

“What’s going on?” 

He opens his mouth to respond, some half-hearted attempt to make her feel better, but he’s cut off by the loud booming sound of a single cannon going off in the distance.  

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg , @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss #aaron x emily

[heliads]

Hi 👋🏻 I was wondering if I could request a readerxpercy Jackson characters platonic, who’s a child of hades who’s a very sunny small cinnamon roll who likes to wear sundresses but is also really awkward and they kind of have to navigate there new life at camp half blood after being claimed love you stuff btw❤️

me when appearances are deceiving

masterlist

Percy Jackson gets weird around dead people. It’s a habit he’s tried his hardest to shake, but honestly, he doesn’t feel that he should be punished for this. Who doesn’t flinch at the sight of a corpse up and walking like they’re late for brunch plans with the other rotting besties?

Well, Percy does know one person seemingly born without that natural aversion to the deceased. They’re the reason he’s in such a predicament, actually. See, this is just what he gets for trying to be warm and welcoming. If Percy had just left the kind, happy, welcome-to-Camp-Half-Blood, you’re-going-to-die-now part to the actual camp tour guides, he wouldn’t be stuck trying to wake the dead.

As if Percy hasn’t done enough of this. The first time he heard about the plan, he was hit by a thousand flashbacks of a rather sullen Nico de Angelo, mossy gravestones, and French fries sinking alarmingly into a pit of endless earth. Gods, he hadn’t been able to eat McDonald’s for weeks without thinking about moldy flesh, and that truly is a crime against humanity.

That was Nico, though. This is Y/N. Y/N L/N to be precise, a new demigod to Camp Half-Blood and so not Percy’s problem except for the fact that they kind of are. Percy had been minding his own business at camp– well, as much as any hyperactive kid can– when they’d approached him asking for help. Percy had seen this as his chance to prove himself helpful and he’d agreed. If only Y/N had warned him about the corpse sightings before Percy said he was down. Then he might have been able to weasel out of this mess.

Then again, he probably should have seen this coming. Y/N is a child of Hades, one of the rare descendants of the god of the Underworld that Percy has had the privilege of meeting. They’re also utterly unlike any other child of the dead that Percy has met, probably because they’re actually an optimist. Y/N has a bright smile and wears sundresses. Y/N grins infectiously and leads the Hades cabin at nightly camp sing-a-longs, which actually isn’t hard to do. Nico still looks like he wants to melt into the ground every time someone strikes up a tune unless Will Solace gets on his case.

Percy worries about Y/N sometimes. Despite the fact that there’s really no point in distrusting a demigod because of their godly parent (unless that godly parent is Ares, then Percy is totally justified in any and all irritation), Y/N’s status as a Hades kid hasn’t exactly won them the warmest of welcomes from the other campers. Y/N’s slowly winning them over because it only takes one conversation with them to learn that they’re not a weirdo, but still. The going is slow. Maybe Percy could help with that.

The situation had come about just this morning. Percy was finishing up his breakfast with his usual gusto (blue waffles and blueberry syrup, you will always be a creation worthy of the gods themselves) when Y/N had approached him hesitantly. At first, they’d hardly been able to get the words out, and then it had all come out at once and he’d been swept away on a tidal wave of explanations and anticipated reactions.

He’d asked Y/N to slow down on the walk over back to his cabin. In the end, what he managed to put together was this:  Y/N needed help with a situation that required the help of someone who might be able to defend them from attack if it came to that. Y/N has only been at camp for two short months, which isn’t a whole lot of time to pick up the nuance of sword fighting as compared to Percy’s years of experience. Sure, a lot of that came from picking fights he probably should have ran from, but sometimes you just have to face your problems head on, right? Right?

Anyway, Percy felt proud that someone would ask him for help, so he said no before he could stop himself. It had been a while since he was out on a quest, maybe he was itching for something to do after all.

Well, he’s certainly found himself a good amount of trouble then. Y/N’s grin split their face with eager excitement when Percy agreed to help out, and they’d gestured for him to follow them to the woods.

See, that should have been his first sign that something was going to go wrong. Nothing good ever happens in the woods surrounding Camp Half-Blood. Percy can rattle off about a thousand and one mishaps that all took place in the shadowy oaks and desolate hollows of the camp wilderness. If the monsters roaming the forest weren’t enough, Percy has found Labyrinth entrances, been stung by a scorpion thanks to Luke Castellan’s betrayal, and launched an assault against an infestation of Myrmekes all within those same oaken confines.

Not the greatest place to start this favor, to say the least. Speaking of which, Percy still doesn’t really have a good idea what exactly he’s doing here. Sure, Y/N told him, but he might have been spacing out during that conversation. In his defense, he had seen Annabeth walking by when Y/N was finally getting to that point, and she’d had her hair down. As if he could be expected to pay attention under such circumstances.

Y/N finally comes to a stop in the middle of a rough clearing. “This should do well,” they decide.

Percy nods solemnly, eyeing the blank earth like he has any idea what is going. “Yes, it should. Just to make sure everything’s ironed out, uh, it’s going to do well for what, again?”

“Raising the dead,” Y/N says without a trace of hesitation.

Percy blinks. “Sorry, I think I heard you wrong. We’re doing what?”

“There’s a dead person, and I want to talk to them,” Y/N clarifies.

Percy turns to them. “There are a lot of dead people in the world. Who are you trying to talk to, and why? And why am I here for this? And why are we doing this on camp grounds? And–”

Y/N cuts him off before he can really get going, which Percy only mildly dislikes. “Listen, I know it sounds like a lot, and I’m super sorry, but this is important. I had a dream from my dad.”

“I see,” Percy says, like the mere mention of a dream clears up everything. In all honesty, it kind of does. Percy has received his share of godly commandments through dreams. For some reason, if it weren’t enough for the gods to ruin his life by giving him impossible tasks, they always take it upon themselves to mess up his beauty rest as well. He can’t have anything around here.

“Yeah,” Y/N says slowly, “he was there in the dream, and he said I needed to talk to someone. A soldier who died in the Revolutionary War. Apparently they know something that will help with the defense of the camp.”

Percy frowns. “If Hades knows who you need to talk to, why doesn’t he just tell you outright? Especially if it’s to protect the camp, that’s serious.”

Unconsciously, Percy reaches into his pocket to tap Riptide and make sure it’s still there. He doesn’t like the thought that there’s something wrong with the camp. He’s done enough time worrying over Thalia’s tree and the like. If the defenses are failing and no one knows about it but the god of the Underworld, well, it doesn’t exactly sound good.

Y/N groans. “Believe me, I asked him that myself. He just said some nonsense about needing to trust the journey and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. I woke up not too long after that.”

“Sounds like a god,” Percy muses. Thunder rumbles overheard, and he fights the urge to flash an obscene gesture at the sky. He doubts it would give Y/N any more faith in him, though, and they’re already looking at him like they expect him to run.

“Well,” he says slowly, hating himself for going along with this truly awful plan, “let’s talk to a dead guy, then.”

Y/N’s face brightens in an instant. “You’ll do it with me? Really?”

“Oh, I’m not going to be doing it,” Percy clarifies in a rush, “That’s all you, sorry. I will stand here and look menacing behind you, though. Ghosts can be a bit of a mess. I feel like you could use some reinforcements.”

“That would be perfect,” Y/N admits.

They kneel on the ground, gently pushing some dirt away with their hand while grabbing a small flask with their other. Judging by the ease with which they unscrew the lid of the vial and pour a dark liquid on the ground, this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. Percy isn’t sure if that makes him more or less concerned.

“What, uh, is that stuff?” Percy asks, trying not to seem too conspicuously freaked out. This may not be his first ghost-summoning rodeo, but that doesn’t mean he’s down with everything. 

“Iced tea,” Y/N says matter-of-factly, “They’re Revolutionary War era, right? I feel like they’ll be called to tea. Or at least want to dump it in the Boston Harbor.”

Percy has to respect that logic. He’s certain he could do no better, at least. Y/N murmurs a few words in what sounds like Ancient Greek, and a cold wind blows through the clearing, making Percy’s nerves stand on edge. As he watches, indistinct shapes form at the edges of the forest, a few braver ones daring to approach and sip at the pool of tea. It occurs to him that this might be the strangest tea party he’s ever attended, and it takes everything in Percy to not start laughing. He’s not sure the ghosts would take to that all that well.

One solidifies more than the others after drinking. Y/N narrows their eyes at it. “Who sent you here?”

It opens a rotting jaw to answer. “Hadesssss.”

The word comes out in a hiss of smoke and dying exhales. Percy had pulled out Riptide the second Y/N started chanting (usually a good time to have weapons in hand), and his knuckles clench around the grip now. He does not like that sound. This is so not a good morning.

Y/N nods. “What do you know about camp defenses?”

The guy takes a while to respond. Percy likes to think it’s because the ghost is particularly well-spoken and not because it has to get the other half of its jaw to swing back in place before it can answer. Definitely not that.

“There’ssss a curse upon the boundariessss,” it whispers decomposedly, “it liftsss every hundred yearsssssss.”

“What do we have to do to fix it?” Y/N asks. Percy has to admire their determination. He would like to run, but they’re still there, just as focused as ever.

The ghost considers this. “There’s a ssssscroll owned by the centaur. Read it before nightfall and your livessss will be sssssspared.”

Y/N starts to ask another question, but the ghost’s eyes roll back in its head. “Death callssss me back,” it moans, “sssstay alive, child of Hadessssss.”

The ghost is pulled away from them, back towards the edge of the forest, away into nothingness. Some of the other ghosts surge towards the small lake of tea in the hopes of gaining more energy now that the main speaker is gone, but Percy steps in front, blade extended, and they back off. Soon enough, all of the dead are gone, and it’s just the two of them alone in the clearing.

“Well,” Y/N says brightly, “I think that went well.”

“You do?” Percy asks, frowning.

“Sure,” they explain, “we have answers, don’t we? That’s great.”

A voice sounds from behind them. “I think I’d like some answers.”

Percy turns around to see Chiron coming to a stop, arms folded. “Why are the two of you in the woods unsupervised? Percy, you know the rules.”

Percy winces. Totally forgot about that. He’s probably skipping arts and crafts. Given Percy’s lack of skills related to sculpture, though, maybe that’s for the best. He thinks he might have actually traumatized the instructor with his last clay piece. In Percy’s defense, though, his centerpiece really wasn’t supposed to look that much like a Gorgon.

“I was just thinking,” he says slowly, trying to think of some way to warn Chiron without actually mentioning the fact that they’d been summoning the dead, “You know, since the camp has been around so long. Got to be hundreds of years, right? So cool that the defenses have held up so long. You know, and they don’t have to be, uh, renewed, right? Not like a contractually obligated thing to keep performing a spell every century. That would be crazy.”

Chiron blinks in surprise, and then his eyes widen. “Actually, one such spell does exist. Thank you for reminding me, Percy. Out of curiosity, how did you have such good timing? I imagine anyone who knows about that spell is long since dead?”

“Dead?” Percy repeats, the picture of innocence. “Well, that’s ridiculous. Who could talk to the dead, right? Certainly not me. Or Y/N. I just had, you know, a good auspicious dream. I love dreams. Have them all the time, actually.”

Chiron stares at him, and Percy gets that familiar feeling that the centaur can see straight through his soul and read his mind. At last, he lifts a shoulder. “Dreams can certainly hold meaning. Well, thank you anyway.”

Chiron turns to leave, but pauses at the edge of the clearing. Percy allows himself a small moment of celebration that they’d managed to get out of this without getting caught.

“Oh, and Y/N?” The centaur says, “Next time you summon the dead, do it with adult supervision. Or at least adult supervision with a better alibi.”

“Will do,” Y/N calls cheerfully, and Chiron leaves without another word.

Well, it’s not Percy’s strangest morning. He’s sure he’ll have more, too. He grins at Y/N, who breaks out into laughter.

“What do you say we head back into camp?” Percy suggests.

“That sounds great to me,” Y/N says. 

The sun lights their way back through the waving trees. Percy decides that he’s had his fill of dead people for a while. No ghosts for at least the next month. It’s a new personal rule.

pjo tag list: @w1shes43, @fadedver, @anxiety-werewolf

#percy jackson #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #pjo imagines #pjo x reader #pjo oneshot #pjo percy #pjo percy imagines #pjo percy x reader #pjo percy oneshot

[the-modern-typewriter]

Could you write a piece where the villain (who has a very destructive power) somehow trades powers with the hero? I can think of it going two ways: either the villain is frustrated at their inability to harm the hero, or the villain is taunting a reluctant hero about using a power that can only cause harm, with the hero being reluctant to do so. I love your work ❤❤

“No - no why would you trade powers with me - you don’t -” 

The villain broke through the hero’s stammering with laughter. 

The hero’s mouth clicked shut, matching their eyes that were squeezed shut, holding back the searing lasers that they couldn’t control. Their hands curled into violently trembling fists, glowing with power. 

The realisation of what the villain had done quickly chased the heels of the horror of it. Because the villain, now that they had the hero’s regenerative powers, was the only person immune to the destruction struggling to explode beneath the hero’s skin. 

“No,” the hero whispered, quieter, all of their dizzying advantage turned to rot and ruin. 

“Yes.” The villain fell to their knees before the hero, cupping their hero’s jaw. They stroked the pads of their thumbs through the power burning, bleeding down the hero’s cheeks in streaks of tears. “You think me a monster, a creature of nothing but pain and death and terror. How are you coping with being me?” 

The hero had never realised, before, the phenomenal amount of self-control it took the villain with every breath of every day not to detonate. To feel like there was something monstrous, something world-ending, fizzing beneath their skin trying to force its way out. 

The villain, in the time the hero had known them, always made it look so easy. It felt the hero had seen but the awful tip of the iceberg, and now the rest had been shoved through a pit in their stomach. It hurt. 

They gritted their teeth as more power swelled in their throat, ready to take out an entire building block with a howl, but some of the magic still spilled down past their lips to the floor. It peppered the pavement beneath them like bullets. The hero could smell something scorched. Hear it sizzling.

The hero made a desperate, wordless sound. The villain had held that power all of their life. The hero could do it too. They could learn to do it too, and the villain would never be able to use it again, only heal, and wouldn’t that be karma, but...

Every gulp of power they swallowed down wanted to find some way out, refusing to settle quiet, not while the hero’s heart was racing, adrenaline spiking, fear sour and explosive. 

Another inch of power leaked out around their shaking hands, and they heard someone scream, heard the sound of a bang and their eyes flew open on terrible instinct and -

The villain’s palm pressed swiftly against their face, like the hero had done to them to block their powers before. The laser couldn’t get through, fizzling against the villain’s skin.

"You think you’re so much better than me.” The villain’s voice was cold venom. “But it’s so much easier being the hero when you were born for it, huh? When you have to work so hard to cause pain instead of healing it? I should let you slaughter hundreds and see how you feel about it then. Watch every person you touch wither.”

Maybe the hero would learn to control it, but who knew how long that would take, who knew how many well-meaning people would get hurt in the process.

“I’m sorry.” The hero held perfectly still, petrified of the damage any one wrong move would make. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” 

“My demands do not seem so unreasonable now, do they?”

“Please don’t let me hurt them. Please.” 

“Do they?” 

The hero shook their head, the smallest fraction, breathing ragged. No. They didn’t, not if this was the effort their nightmare of a villain went to every day to avoid an apocalypse. If what the hero felt was true, the villain did far more to save civilians from themselves than the hero ever did fighting them, not that they hadn’t saved people, but...

“I’m sorry,” the hero said again, barely able to think through the roaring in their head. “It hurts, I’m sorry.”

“Take some deep breaths,” the villain ordered. “Calm your mind. Focus on my hands, god knows it’s more than I ever got.” 

The hero sucked in deep, desperate breaths. The power didn’t sink right back into their skin, it seemed to catch on every bone in their ribs, aching like a dozen punches. It still scorched behind the hero’s closed eyes, still rolled down their cheeks towards the ruined floor beneath them. But it eased away from their hands, stopped being a ready curse on their lips, in every exhale of air. 

They sagged against the villain’s grip, curled in on themselves. 

“Now. Loud and clear for our witnesses, hero. Would you like me to trade our powers back again?”

The hero said yes.

#villains and heroes #heroes and villains #writing #story #fic #ficlet #fiction #creative writing #villains #heroes