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#I usually hate this reference but it’s true
aspoonofsugar · 2 days
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Charlie and Vaggie: Anima and Animus
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There's something that I've been dying to say More than anything, more than anything Need you to know I love you more than anything More than anything
Charlie and Vaggie have intertwined and complementary arcs, which are beautifully explored through the jungian archetypes of anima and animus.
WHAT ARE ANIMA AND ANIMUS?
According to Carl Jung, the anima and animus are parts of the human mind. In particular, the anima is the feminine and the animus is the masculine. Everyone has naturally both, but society promotes specific gender values and drives people to repress traits culturally associated with the opposite gender. So, to fully be complete, a person should integrate the negated part. In stories, this usually happens through a meaningful romantic relationship.
Charlie and Vaggie are two women, but they still exhibit opposite gender traits:
Charlie is a princess, who sings her heart out at every chance. She is focused on words, ideals, feelings and she strongly believes in love. All traditionally feminine traits.
Vaggie is a soldier, who shows pride in her fighting abilities. She is focused on actions, pragmatism, battles and she strongly believes in strength. All traditionally masculine traits.
And yet, things are not so simple. Let's consider Charlie and Vaggie's designs for example:
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Charlie usually wears masculine clothes, as she prefers androgynus suits. Not only that, but her name means "free man" and she goes with the gender neutral "Charlie", rather than her given name "Charlotte":
Valentino: YEAH! That BITCH Chuckie or Chandler, or I dunno- Something mannish like that.
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Vaggie usually wears feminine clothes, as she sports a short skirt and loose long hair. Even her name is linked to femininity, as it literally means "vagina":
Angel Dust: You're doing great, Vagina.
Even when it comes to Chaggie's The Nightmare Before Christmas's allusion...
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Charlie references Jack Skellington, as she is the Princess of Hell and a passionate dreamer
Vaggie references Sally, as she is a run-away and Charlie's level-headed helper
So, Charlie seems superficially more feminine and Vaggie appears more masculine, but their looks and inspirations suggest otherwise. Why?
In truth, even if Charlie is a singing disney-like princess and Vaggie is a badass super-soldier, they don't perfectly fit the typical anima and animus characterization. This is true for their appearances and on a deeper level. Specifically:
Charlie is linked to the anima (feminine), but she is active (masculine) and stronger than Vaggie. Finally, even if she is passionate about feelings, she is often insensitive. For example, she doesn't notice her loved ones' struggles, like Angel's pain and Vaggie's insecurities.
Vaggie is linked to the animus (masculine), but she is reactive (feminine) and very sensitive deep down. Moreover, she is weaker than Charlie in terms of raw power, so her obsession with protecting the princess is misplaced.
Charlie is an anima character with a strong repressed animus and Vaggie is an animus character with a strong repressed anima. They have to integrate with each other to become whole. Still, what should they learn from their partner?
LOVE AND HATE
Charlie and Vaggie have the same problem declined in opposite ways:
Husk: Princess, is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everybody else's problems 'cept her own.
Husk about Vaggie: This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.
Charlie wants to fix everyone in an unconscious attempt to fix herself. She loves everyone because she herself wants to be loved.
Vaggie is cold and closed off out of guilt and self-hate. She is suspicious of everyone because she can't really forgive herself.
Both girls have low self-esteem, but Charlie tries to compensate with love, whereas Vaggie tries to defend with hate. These different coping mechanisms stem from their upbringings.
Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, who love her deeply, but are also distant and neglectful. As a result, she admires them, but feels unworthy of their attentions and legacy:
Lute: The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?
She is stuck being the lovable, but useless princess.
Vaggie is brought up in Adam's army, which is an abusive environment, where hate is seen as strength. Vaggie has a place in the world because she kills and is good at it:
Adam: You were on the front lines, I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever. Vaggie. Anyway, you sure fucked up, didn't you?
She is stuck being the ruthless and remorseless soldier.
The path ahead for both girls lies in discovering they are more than just the princess and the soldier. In particular:
Charlie must accept she herself is capable of feeling negative emotions, like pain and anger. She can be aggressive and this doesn't make her mean. It makes her healthy.
Vaggie: Well, I mean… You're the princess of Hell. You don't really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can… I don't know, command a little more… Authority? Charlie: But that's so mean. Vaggie: It's not mean, exactly. It's… uh, aggressive kindness.
Vaggie must learn to open up to others. She must show vulnerability and express her positive feelings more. She has a merciful and sensitive side, which doesn't make her weak. It makes her strong.
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Chaggie have the potential to help each other bloom. Vaggie is the first person to tell Charlie she should be more self-assured in her role of Princess of Hell. Charlie is the first person, who takes care of Vaggie as she is hurt and unable to defend herself. Charlie can teach Vaggie to embrace her inner maiden (love, mercy). Vaggie can show Charlie how to be a real warrior (aggressivity, strength). At the same time, their opposite mentalities lead to some problems in their relationship.
TRUST FALLS (APART)
Charlie: I trust everyone, so maybe you know better on how to build it properly!
Angel Dust to Vaggie: To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?
Charlie trusts everyone, whereas Vaggie trusts no-one. So, none of them really knows how to trust properly. This becomes obvious in the episode Scramble Eggs, where:
Charlie trusts Vaggie so much she doesn't realize she is putting a lot of pressure on her partner:
Charlie: Oh, come on. It'll be easy! I'm sure you can handle this. Vaggie: Yeah, um, Sure, I can handle this. No problem.
Vaggie trusts Charlie so little she isn't able to confide nor lean on her partner:
Charlie: It's no big deal, Vaggie. You know, maybe I can just help, uh- Vaggie: No. I told you you could trust me, and I'm not going to let you down.
Charlie acts like the damsel and lets Vaggie handle the whole situation. Vaggie plays the knight and refuses to share the burden with Charlie:
So I, I'll be your armor Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll spend my life being your partner
The song Whatever It Takes plays the princess/knight motif straight. Vaggie sees herself as worthy of Charlie only if she can be her knight in shining armor. This may seem sweet, but there is something to be said about Vaggie echoing Carmilla, a mother who is singing to her daughters:
So I, I'll be your keeper Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll keep you safe and keep this secret
It makes sense for a parent to shoulder the burden for their kids' sake. However, a person wanting to do the same for their lover is unhealthy. Especially, when the secret of a balanced relationship is established early on:
Charlie: From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of Mankind.
The two partners must be equals, but Vaggie sees herself as inferior to Charlie and tries to over-compensate. In this way, though, she takes away Charlie's agency. Charlie instead knows something is off deep down. However, she does not address the matter because she would need to go deeper into herself, her feelings and her relationships. And Charlie wants to avoid it at all costs.
Chaggie's communication issues are conveyed meta-narratively in Charlie and Vaggie's individual songs:
-Charlie's Happy Day in Hell has our princess sing so loud that she almost covers Vaggie's warning:
Charlie: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed That any soul can change! Vaggie: Those angels' minds are hard to change Charlie: Then they will know everyone can be redeemed From the evil to the strange! Vaggie: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
She doesn't listen to Vaggie.
-Vaggie's Whatever It Takes is sung by our knight to her princess, but Vaggie has Charlie leave before the beginning:
Charlie: Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's- Vaggie: I'm sorry. I'd… I'd like to be alone for a minute.
She doesn't talk to Charlie.
Eventually the couple's trust exercise is solved positively:
Charlie: No, no, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put pressure on you. We work as a team. I guess I just thought all this would be easier, but, we'll figure it out, together. I mean, look what your exercise did for them.
Charlie goes out of her way to talk with Vaggie and Vaggie's team-building works. Charlie puts both her and Vaggie's feelings into words, whereas Vaggie builds trust through her actions.
Despite this, Chaggie don't really address their problems, which come back stronger:
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Adam: Don't you act all high and mighty Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar? Vaggie: Don't, Adam, please! Adam: What's the fuss? Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like us?
Charlie has been ignoring Vaggie's dark side, so she is devastated when it comes out. Vaggie instead has been hiding the truth from Charlie, so it is revealed in the worst way possible. After this, there is an inversion in Charlie and Vaggie's dynamic:
Vaggie: Charlie, can we talk about this-- Charlie: We can talk later. Right now, we have a job to do. You with us?
Vaggie is the one looking for a conversation, whereas Charlie pushes her girlfriend away. Before they can reconcile, the two girls need to go through individual trips and to find the guidance of two mentors.
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A singer
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A dancer
SINGING AND DANCING
Rosie and Carmilla are mature versions of Charlie and Vaggie:
Rosie is the Ruler of Cannibal Town, one of the nicest place in Hell. She is good-natured, but respected by her people. Moreover, she runs an Emporium, where she helps her clients with their personal problems. This is pretty much what Charlie would like to do with the Hazbin Hotel. Rosie is also a singer and is inspired by Dolly, from the musical "Hello, Dolly!"
Carmilla is Hell's top weapon dealer, so she specializes in war and is herself an exceptional fighter. However, she is not ruthless and mostly fights to protect her loved ones. She is the kind of person a more balanced and self-assured Vaggie might become. Carmilla is also designed as a ballerina and her two daughters are called after protagonists of famous ballets.
Why do Charlie and Vaggie's adult selves have a singing and dancing motif? That's because Charlie and Vaggie are respectively a singer and a dancer.
Charlie is a singer:
Charlie: My name is Charlie, I like to sing! And when we get to know each other it's the greatest thing!
She always conveys her feelings through songs, like her many attempts to pitch her hotel (to the Sinners, to Adam, to the Cannibals). What is more:
Charlie: But Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and songs.
Charlie wants to become like Lilith and to empower people with her voice. Her objective is to grow into an inspiring leader, who changes minds and touches hearts with words.
Vaggie is a dancer:
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The problem is that she has yet to realize it. Vaggie struggles with self-expression, which is why she has very few songs in the first season. That said, she shows her devotion through actions, like her determination to fight for Charlie. What she needs to learn is a new fighting style rooted in love. That is dancing, a way to express one-self through the body. This is made clear by the two cut episodes Challenge Day and The Baphomet Ball:
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This cut plotline had Vaggie fight proto-Carmilla and lose. Charlie would later cheer her up by inviting her to a Ball. There proto-Carmilla would be impressed by Vaggie's dancing skills. The basic idea is obvious. Vaggie is a fighter, who must evolve into a dancer.
So, once again Chaggie is complementary:
Charlie is linked to singing, words and "soul", as she herself is the Heart of the Hazbin Hotel.
Vaggie is linked to dancing, actions and "body", as she herself is the Arm of the Hazbin Hotel.
As a result, they are given opposite missions to save the hotel:
Charlie must convince the Cannibals to join her army (singing). She must find people, who will help them fight.
Vaggie must discover from Carmilla how to fight the exorcists. This means both learning her fighting style (dancing) and obtaining the angelic weapons.
And yet, to succeed in their respective areas of expertise both Charlie and Vaggie must step into the other's shoes.
Charlie learns to better understand Vaggie and by doing so she realizes the importance of actions:
Rosie: If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth. So, what have her actions said? Charlie: That she believes in me, and what we're doing.
Not only that, but she is forced to take a look inside and starts unpacking some of her negative emotions:
Charlie: My girlfriend is an Exorcist angel, and she never told me Rosie: Oh, shit! Quite a secret. How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just, angry, because we share everything, because she always supported me, and my ideas, and-and- and now, I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies! Oh no that's a horrible thing to think! Do i think that?! Yes! N-no. Kinda?
As a result, she comes up with a song that combines her natural showmanship and charisma with a new resolution to act:
Charlie: For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this
Charlie steps into the role of leader and is ready to take action:
All: For the first time in our lives We know that we are ready for this Rosie: We'll show Heaven a fight they won't forget! All: It's time to take a stand Charlie: It is time to lend a hand! (Cannibals: Huzzah!) Against the angels and their deadly threat! All: We cannot take it anymore The time has come to go to war Prepare to fight, we're ready for… THIS!
Vaggie inspires the residents of the Hotel to stay and convinces Carmilla to help. By doing so, she shows how much she has grown thanks to her time with Charlie:
Vaggie: What's important now is that we're going to have a fight on our hands. Look, this hotel is about to become the most dangerous place in hell, and we….I, can't guarantee your safety anymore. I still believe in Charlie's dream. I know this place can work. But none of you signed up for this. I'm gonna go learn how we can fight back, and when I come home….Well I'll understand if none of you are here.
Moreover, she learns to fight in a new way intertwined with music (Charlie's passion and world):
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This fighting style is focused on defense and survival, rather than attack and killing:
Carmilla: Angels attack quickly, viciously, and without mercy. You'll need to defend better than that.
Carmilla: Well, look at that. You might just survive this.
It is based on love:
Carmilla: I see you're driven by your detestation Your every step is stoked with animus You need a different type of motivation Or there's no way that you can handle this I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie You're out for blood But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love
By the end, Charlie and Vaggie meet each other in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie leads the people (soul) and Vaggie has the weapons (body). They have also grown enough to better understand each other. Charlie empathizes with Vaggie and forgives her lie. Vaggie realizes how much Charlie cares for her and is ready to value herself more:
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At the same time, Charlie faces some of her repressed "aggressivity" and makes an important step as Princess of Hell:
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Rosie and Alastor: She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell Like her Daddy, she is madly power-fell!
Vaggie instead learns some "self-love" and makes progress into becoming a true angel:
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Carmilla: You're gonna fight without gloves And when that push comes to shove Yeah, you just might rise above Long as you're out for love
These changes are fully embraced and tested in the final battle.
FINALE: DEVIL AND ANGEL
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The fight against the Exorcists is where Charlie and Vaggie's integration is on full display, starting with their designs:
Charlie wears a mini-dress with a heart decoration and wields a shield.
Vaggie fully covers her body with an androgynous and practical attire. She fights with her signature spear.
The usually masculine looking Charlie appears feminine. The usually feminine appearing Vaggie looks masculine. Their outfits also fit their respective fighting styles. Charlie is defensive, whereas Vaggie is aggressive. Wait... isn't something wrong? Shouldn't Charlie grow more aggressive and Vaggie more defensive? Yes and this is precisely what happens as the battle progresses...
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Charlie is overwhelmed by her anger and grief over Sir Pentious's death and unlocks her full demonic form. She goes from defense (shield) to offense (pitchfork) and injures Adam. Finally, she transforms her arm into a claw and stops the First Man in his tracks.
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Vaggie is attacked by Lute, loses her spear and is forced on the defensive. She protects herself from Lute's relentless assault until she reveals her angelic wings and traps her opponent. Eventually, she has pity of Lute and lets her live.
Charlie's climatic moment is a show of strength, whereas Vaggie's is a show of mercy.
In other words:
Charlie appears more feminine, but acts more masculine
Vaggie appears more masculine, but acts more feminine
In comparison to their usual dynamic, Chaggie go through a complete inversion. This development is conveyed also by a small detail: their hair. Charlie lets hers loose, while Vaggie ties hers.
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Charlie's hair usually covers her horns and is tied because she represses her demonic side. The moment she gives in to her inner demon, the horns come out and the hair gets loose, just like her feelings are untamed.
Vaggie: I'm not used to fighting with long hair.
Vaggie's hair is an attempt to hide her past and vulnerability. She has it grow after her abandonement to mask her scars (her eye and missing wings). In the finale, she ties it to fight freely. In this way, her brand new angelic wings can come out in all their beauty.
So, Charlie embraces her demon side, while Vaggie has her inner angel emerge. The twist is that Charlie the demon teaches Vaggie how to be a proper angel. Vaggie the angel instead shows Charlie that there is value in demonic traits. They integrate with each other to become the best versions of themselves. This shows also before and after the fight.
In the Finale, Charlie expresses all her self-loathing:
Charlie: He did it for us, the ultimate sacrifice He gave me his trust, and look how we paid the price This bloodshed could have been avoided If I convinced Heaven to work together I took a hotel and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down
Thanks to this, her loved ones come to her side and support her. What is more, she starts to back up her words with actions:
Katie Killjoy: Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words.
In More Than Anything Reprise, Vaggie conveys her love to Charlie through words and is there for her in a moment of self-doubt and weakness:
Vaggie: You've already done so much So many lives you've changed So many souls you've touched And in the end, if it's only me you've saved
She shows her sweetness and sensitivity.
By the end of season 1, Chaggie are together and stronger than ever. They have made the first steps into integration and tapped into their respective potentials. Both as individuals and as saviors of the universe.
THE MYTH OF EDEN
Charlie: Drawn in by Lilith's fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.
The series starts with a retelling of the myth of Eden, which is set-up as the heart of the series:
Plot-wise all the characters are living with its consequences
Theme-wise it shows the birth of love between the first man and the first woman...
The twist is that the first couple isn't Adam and Eve, but Lucifer and Lilith:
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Who are foils to Charlie and Vaggie:
Both couples have a demon and an angel, who fall in love against the odds.
Both Charlie and Vaggie foil Lucifer in different ways. Like her father, Charlie is a wide-eyed idealist, who doesn't fit in her kingdom and wants to change it. Like the devil, Vaggie is a fallen angel, who is let down by heaven and finds love in hell.
Both Charlie and Vaggie are set-up to foil Lilith. Charlie is a demon full of love, who wants to empower others with her voice. Just like her mom. Vaggie is an angel hidden in hell, who keeps secrets out of a misplaced wish to protect others. Lilith is a demon hidden in heaven... wanna bet that she is keeping secrets from her husband and daughter to protect them?
Why is there such a juxtaposition between the two couples? Two reasons:
Charlie is gonna deal with her complicated feelings for her parents through Vaggie. Her partner is gonna challenge her to grow into her own person (microchosm).
Lucifer and Lilith unwillingly broke the world, but Charlie and Vaggie are gonna fix it (macrochosm)
This is why the two couples are immediately juxtaposed:
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After Charlie ends her retelling of The Story of Hell, Vaggie arrives to check on her.
Lucifer and Lilith destroyed the status quo:
Charlie: But this gift came with a curse. And with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered.
Charlie and Vaggie will bring a new and better one:
Charlie: We'll make a difference, wait and see Charlie and Vaggie: We're gonna do this, you and me
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mikereads · 1 year
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Dead to me is my thirteen reasons literary.
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fantasylandloser · 9 months
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marriage pact
summary: besties that plan to get married
warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2
update here is part 2
****
Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 
Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 
You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.
Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.
“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.
“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 
“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.
“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.
The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 
“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 
“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.
When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.
“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.
When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 
Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  
“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 
When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.
“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 
“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.
“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.
You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.
Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.
“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.
He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.
Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.
“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 
“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.
“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.
“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.
“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 
You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.
“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.
Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”
“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 
When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 
“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 
“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”
“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  
“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 
Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.
*****
Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 
But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.
“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 
“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.
“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 
“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 
And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.
“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 
The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 
When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 
“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.
“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.
“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 
“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 
“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 
Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 
“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.
You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 
“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 
“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.
“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 
Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 
You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 
“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.
“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 
“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.
“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.
A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 
Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 
He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 
“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 
“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 
“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.
“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.
“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 
Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.
“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.
“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.
“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 
“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.
“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.
You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 
Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 
“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 
When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Talking with Oliver really is the best tbh
#miranda talking shit#Its a roller-coaster for sure. And im sure it is for him as well lmao#I started to tear up bc i thought about Fabian having have told me he really wants to be a father one day and he was so hopeful sounding#So i started tearing up bc i thought of that memory. And Oliver wad like... Why are you crying ? And i wad like... Bc i thought of Fabian#Telling me he wants to be a dad? And after a while he wad like 'i dont understand. Like you saying youre emotional bc#Fabian. Wanting to be a dad like wtf?' and i laughed bc... Yeah that does sound strange to say. To me its natural bc i can recall how he#Sounded. Ive learned to recognize his diffrent tones and he sounded so happy and hopeful and cute so to me that's precious memory#And i talked more than i usually do in general. And shared more and yeah im anxious about that but it was nice#He said one thing that almost made me cry but then i remembered the way of thinking 'he didn't mean it as an insult to me just a fact' so i#Was fine. Aka he said something like 'i think you think youre understanding. But there are things one cant understand if you have not#Experienced it' and thats true. I try to be understanding but also i know i cant understand everything because i have no reference to#Everything. Talking with Oliver is so fucking refreshing for me bc of how diffrent he is and how he talks in general. He says what he feels#Or tries to. I find that great tbh. Open communication and i dont have to think about it and guess bc he'll explain to me instead#So even if i cant relate or understand i will usually hear another diffrent opinion and its fun.#'i think being emotional is nice. I wish i was more emotional. Its nice that you and other people like you are that'#Getting even an general compliment from oliver is a big boost for my ego lol. He hates saying things you personal terms#Im guessing its bc hes scared of intimacy in general meanwhile im ... Kinda similar. I say we often and like to see myself as part#Of an group. Aka my friends. But i will say shit i think openly and be sappy unless i think people wont like it jskfksjajnfjf#It was fun to hear something positive from him tbh. I always admire people and their diffrent qualities but i assume they dislike mine#So hearing someone liking my... Less popular/fun traits is always nice. I know im emotional and sensitive but 9/10 times people find it#Annoying. I personally dont dislike that part of me. When i do its bc i know others think im too much so i dislike making then uncomfortabl
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Allure
Part One:Sunshine
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❥MATZ x fem reader
Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.
Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)
Smoke (Part Three)
➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕
✃ "Because you're... alluring."
✫彡wordcount: 9.3k
♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au
ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH
chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE ˚➶ 。˚
You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.
Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.
You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.
New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.
You had to interact with them all face to face.
You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.
You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.
"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."
"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.
"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."
"I'll follow you up, I c-"
"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.
"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."
A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.
"See you, Hyolyn."
"Later, babes."
You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.
The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.
The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.
When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.
˚➶ 。˚
You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.
"Yunnie in town?"
"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."
You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.
The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.
She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.
"She said she'll be here first thing."
"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."
"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."
It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.
"I owe you."
"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.
    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.
     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?
     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.
    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.
       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.
     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.
    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."
     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.
    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.
     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.
    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.
     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.
    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.
    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.
    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.
     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."
   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.
      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."
    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.
     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.
     "Changb-"
     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."
   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.
    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"
    You shake your head.
   "You a lawyer?"
    Again.
   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"
    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."
     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.
     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"
     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."
Your head snaps back to Changbin.
"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"
The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.
If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.
The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.
You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.
The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.
The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.
Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."
    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.
A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.
You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.
The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.
As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.
˚➶ 。˚
The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."
The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.
The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-
"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.
"Settle down!"
"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"
"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.
"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.
"I can use my teeth, mark h-"
"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."
Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.
"What do you mean by that?!"
The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.
˚➶ 。˚
You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.
You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.
You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.
You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.
You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.
She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.
That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"
You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.
You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.
"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.
You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.
"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.
The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.
The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."
A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"
"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"
All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"
"She ain't yours!"
Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."
The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.
You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.
"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"
"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.
"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."
"Solis."
"Very pretty. Is she fast?"
"Yes."
"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"
"Yes."
The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"
"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.
Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.
There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.
The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.
"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.
He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.
You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.
"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.
Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.
"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"
"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."
"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.
He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.
"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."
"When I mark her."
He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.
In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.
It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.
He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.
Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.
"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.
He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.
"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.
Binnie? Ugh.
Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.
You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.
You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.
"Bye, Binnie."
He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.
˚➶ 。˚
Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"
"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.
They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"
You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."
"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."
You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.
You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.
You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."
"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.
"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.
When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."
"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.
"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."
Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.
     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.
     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.
     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"
      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.
     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.
      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.
      "Yes. And no."
     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.
      "How did they find you?"
       "Woods."
       "Woods?"
     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."
     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.
     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"
     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."
    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."
     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.
      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."
     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"
     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.
      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.
     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.
      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 
     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.
You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.
"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.
"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"
"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."
You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.
Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.
Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.
˚➶ 。˚
The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.
     You've been here a million times before.
     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.
     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.
     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.
     This time it's different.
      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.
      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.
       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.
     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.
       You don't remember this.
       This isn't right.
       This isn't your nightmare.
       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"
      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.
     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.
      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.
     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.
You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.
"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.
"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."
"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.
It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.
"A favor for a friend."
With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.
"Enjoy."
The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.
You warily take a seat and pick up the book.
˚➶ 。˚
They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.
Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.
"Hong-"
"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.
Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.
He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.
The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.
Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.
"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."
"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.
You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.
Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.
"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"
Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"
"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"
"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."
They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."
"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"
The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"
A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.
Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.
"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"
They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.
"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."
"No, what's happening?"
     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.
A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.
Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.
Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."
Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.
"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"
     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.
˚➶ 。˚
The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.
He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.
High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.
A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.
He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.
Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.
The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.
      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.
      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.
     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."
     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"
     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."
      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.
      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.
     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.
     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.
"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."
He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.
"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.
Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.
The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.
"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."
"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.
       3? "Fuck."
     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.
      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.
       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.
      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.
      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"
      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.
     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.
     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.
He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.
Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.
"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.
"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.
It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."
He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.
The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.
Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.
Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.
You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.
You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.
"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."
You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.
"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."
"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.
"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."
"No-"
"Open the fucking door!"
"No!"
The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?
"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.
Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.
He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.
And it was warranted anxiety.
With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.
"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.
Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.
You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.
     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.
     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.
      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.
       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.
     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.
     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.
     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.
     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.
       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."
      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."
       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.
     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.
     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."
    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.
       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.
     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.
      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.
     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.
        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.
     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.
       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.
     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.
They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.
What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.
It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.
"Your turn, omega."
The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.
"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.
A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.
You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.
"Why... why me?"
"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"
"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"
"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."
You were growing dizzy, head spinning.
"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."
You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.
"Why? Because you're... alluring."
That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.
˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ 。˚
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fandomapocalypse · 3 months
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Love and relationships in Hazbin Hotel
Episode 7 has something interesting and in the song that is called "Out for love" is sung by a character that is referring to a type of love different from a romantic or sexual one, Carmilla is openly talking about familial love. Vaggie of course relates this to her romantic feelings towards Charlie and how she wants to help her. But something else interesting happens in episode 7, Rosie is properly introduced as Alastor's bestie. This leads to showing another type of love: platonic love.
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Now to the main point of this post: Alastor. It's canon that he is aroace and as an ace myself (I'm still questioning whether I'm aromantic or demiromantic but this post isn't about me lol) I'm extremely happy to see myself through him. Plus, the fact that the perfect Tumblr sexyman is aroace is genius and hilarious, you can't possibly top this type of humor.
Alastor for me has been a great ace representation and I've seen myself mainly in how he acts around his friends or other people.
When it comes to Niffty it looks more like a relationship between someone with their feral cat or their crazy little sister. But it's still a genuine connection and a fun chaotic one at that, he even lets her touch his hair and climb on him. In regards to Mimzy, he has shown he cares about her and welcomes her with open arms. He openly hugs her, which shocks everyone in the cast. This is extremely important because Alastor usually only starts physical contact to mock others or to pretend physical closeness as a manipulation tactic (like he often does with Charlie). When it comes to people he hates Alastor may touch them but will quickly wipe his hand on his clothes, like what he did with Lucifer. Personally, I don't like personal contact and only accept it if I start it and usually I use it as a way to show affection with close friends. Also, they have known each other since they were alive, so Mimzy probably knows a lot about Alastor that the rest of the cast doesn't. Mimzy also says that they used to dance together. But that doesn't exclude the fact that she uses Alastor's friendship and affection to save her own ass and taking into account how Husk reacted to Mimzy, this isn't the first time she does this. Also, the relationship between the two starts to crumble after what happened in episode 6 and Mimzy seems to be the kind of friend who will pretend that they are still on good terms and still ask Alastor for favors in the future.
Now jumping back to Alastor's true bestie: Rosie. They probably bonded at first over their cannibalistic natures but it's clear that it evolved beyond that. Personally, I don't ship Alastor with anyone, but when it comes to Rosie I headcanon they are in a QPR.
There are various reasons why this relationship is so great and wholesome, the first one being that there is no power imbalance, they are equals. Both are cannibalistic overlords and are on equal footing in terms of power. When Rosie first sees Alastor she is genuinely happy which is something new because most people react badly to him out of fear or hatred.
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Alastor respects Rosie, he even compliments her, in her introduction he says she is "the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord of this side of the pentagram". Considering how self-centered and narcissistic he can be, it means a lot. Alastor would rather die again than compliment another Overlord who isn't Zestial, which he respects but out of fear. Alastor respects Rosie as his close friend. When they stand next to each other they give an air of equals, something that never happens thanks to Alastor's ego and sadism towering over everyone else. With Rosie it's different and Rosie can openly tease Alastor with the "Look at you, so polite! Alastor you can learn a thing or two" when comparing him to Charlie when meeting her, or "I'm just kidding, I know you're an ace in the hole" to tease him about his asexuality. This is something that not a lot of people can do because Alastor is obsessed with control and respect. After all, we see how badly he reacted when Husk insulted him.
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He also harmonizes with her, he willingly makes a duet with her in "Ready for this". He isn't interrupting her, instead, he agrees with her and they sing together in unison. This is the first time he doesn't openly hijack a song or fight for control over it, like he did with Vox and Lucifer (although this also happened because this is Charlie's song, but who cares the point still stands). Also, this is the first time we see him dance with someone, instead of forcing them to join his musical number (like he does with Charlie on various occasions). Alastor and Rosie are in perfect sync and it's so wholesome and precious to see him being so openly happy with her. Many have pointed out that the only times Alastor is genuinely smiling is when he is with Rosie and it shows by his expression in his eyes.
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Finally, Rosie is the only one capable of bringing the most human emotions out of him, the most obvious one being confusion. In the scene of "ace in the hole" Rosie manages to confuse and surprise Alastor for a solid second, which is a huge change of his persona around everyone else of control and manipulation. Also, it's hilarious that Alastor doesn't know what being aroace is, he probably thinks he is above all that.
He is openly relaxed around Rosie and lets her touch him in an affectionate way, something that not even Mimzy can do. It may be because of the height difference but Mimzy only touches Alastor to hug him and to emphasize he is a "heartless son of a bitch" and Alastor clearly gets irritated by her touching him that way and even moves her finger away from him. This never happens with Rosie and he even welcomes her touching him by not having any walls with her. It's Rosie the one starting the physical contact and Alastor doesn't seem to mind and he never tries to use physical contact to take advantage of her like he does with other characters. Rosie is one of the few people who can touch Alastor without losing an arm and instead have a positive reaction out of him.
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The most genuine relationship Alastor has is with Rosie, he even has the confidence and comfort to stop his elegant and reserved persona of not swearing. Which he only does when he is truly angry, like what happened with Lucifer. Or when he is threatening someone like he did with Adam. Or when he is shocked when his microphone breaks. He swears to insult Susan, which is someone they both despise equally. Something that you would only do with your closest bestie.
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Finally, let's talk about Alastor's breakdown in the last episode. We've already seen that Alastor is capable of having friendships that aren't based on an end goal. Alastor knows this but he rejects it because he is at the hotel originally for selfish goals and doesn't want his emotions to get in the way. He is terrified of ruining his reputation as a sadistic killer and becoming an altruistic who cares about his friends. Alastor wants to stop himself from starting to care about the crew the same way he cares about Rosie, Mimzy, or Nifty to some degree. This is confirmed by his conversation with Niffty, where he admits he has grown accustomed to the main crew and perhaps he is growing feelings of affection towards them in his own way.
In regards to shipping him with Rosie, I see it as a platonic ship or a QPR. Some people have a headcanon that if they had known each other when they were alive they would have married for tax benefits and to avoid the social stigma, which is the only right answer. When they first met in hell they probably had dates in cannibal town where they ate human flesh while gossiping and trash-talked about the other overlords. Which is exactly what an ace person like myself wants from a close friendship.
As an ace, I really like Alastor not because he is the ultimate Tumblr sexyman or see him as hot but because he is an extremely fun character that I can relate to. I'm grateful for the crew and VA that take into account he is aroace and take seriously that aspect of his character. I don't mind that the aroace representation in Hazbn Hotel is a narcissistic psychopath, if you want a more wholesome ace representation you can check Todd in Bojack Horseman or Saiki in The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.
I don't mind people shipping Alastor, after all, it's just people having fun, but you can't ignore that he is aroace and how this affects his relationships. So yeah have fun and respect and aroace community :)
ok thanks for hearing my rant bye
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naeviskz · 2 months
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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship
words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread
this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.
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“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.
you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.
hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.
“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”
“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.
he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.
“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.
“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.
how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.
the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.
so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.
“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.
no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.
hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”
* :.・゚゚・ ✿
“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.
the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.
you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.
“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.
a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.
just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.
“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”
your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.
once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.
“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”
“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.
maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?
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- 完 ♡︎
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gurugirl · 3 months
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Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.
Word Count: 9k
Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption
Can We Start Over? masterlist
“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”
You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.
“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”
You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”
And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.
The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.
You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.
.           .           .
You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away. 
You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.
You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.
When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.
You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica
You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!
You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.
You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.
It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.
.           .           .          
Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.
He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.
The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.
“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”
The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.
So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.
Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.
“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”
Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?
“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”
Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.
Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.
Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.
The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.
As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.
“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”
“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”
“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.
Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.
“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“
“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”
Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.
He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.
“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”
“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”
She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.
Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.
He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.
“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.
But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.
“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.
“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.
But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”
You stopped and turned to look at him in question.
“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.
You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?
“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.
“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.
“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”
Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.
“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“
“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”
What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?
But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.
“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.
Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.
You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.
When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”
You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”
You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.” 
Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.
“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.
Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.
You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”
Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.
“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.
“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”
Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”
You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”
Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”
You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”
Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”
“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.
Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”
You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.
Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”
Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.
You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.
“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”
You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.
You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.
He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.
Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.
You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.
“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”
“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”
“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.
“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”
.           .           .
“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”
You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.
You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.
But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.
“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.
You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”
“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”
Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.
“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.
Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”
Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.
.           .           .
You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.
But traffic is unpredictable.
“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.
“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”
You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.
And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.
When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.
“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.
“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”
You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.
You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.
“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.
You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.
He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”
“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.
He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”
You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.
After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”
Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?
You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual.  So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.
At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.
“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.
He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.
“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.
Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”
You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”
“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”
You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.
In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.
“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.
“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.
Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”
“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”
Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”
You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”
It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.
You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.
After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.
“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.
“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.
You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.
“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”
You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.
You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.
Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.
Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.
You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”
You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”
“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”
“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.
Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.
Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.
“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.
Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.
When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”
“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.
He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”
“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.
He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”
You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.
You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.
.           .           .
You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.
Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.
“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”
You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.
.           .           .
You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.
“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.
“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.
Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.
But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.
Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.
The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.
“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.
“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.
Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.
“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.
He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.
Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.
“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.
“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.
Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.
You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.
“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”
“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!
Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.
“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”
“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”
You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”
Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.
“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.
Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.
“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.
“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”
You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”
Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.
But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”
Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.
“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”
Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?
He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.
“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”
When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.
He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.
Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”
You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.
When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.
Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.
Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”
He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.
When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.
He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.
“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.
Part 3
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
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leveling the playing field XII
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.2k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). use of a derogatory term (pr*stitute) implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)
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a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)
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"Coryo!" You grin, running out of the house and down the front porch steps, throwing your arms around his shoulders as soon as you can reach him. It had only been a few days since you'd seen him, but you had to do what you had to do. Truth be told, you did miss him, though.
He chuckles as he catches you, carefully letting you down after a moment. "Hey, Y/N/N, how's it going?"
"I'm good." You grin, turning back at the sound of people laughing inside the house. "You have to come in to meet Ash. He's gonna come with us today, and Lucy Gray is packing a picnic! It's gonna be so fun."
"Who?" Coriolanus asks, but you're already gone, heading back up to the house. An uneasy feeling settles in his gut as he follows you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he enters the home. The kids are trying to gather things into bags, and Lucy Gray is packing some food to bring with the group out to the meadow.
You, on the other hand, are wrapped around the arm of a boy who looks like he belongs in the Capitol Zoo. "Coryo, this is Ash. We met at the Hob the other night." You explain, looking between the two of them as Coriolanus clenches his jaw.
"Nice to meet you." He says through gritted teeth, reaching out out of habit to shake the boy's hand. He's got dark hair, and somehow darker eyes. Immediately, he doesn't trust him.
"You too, man. Love the peacekeeper getup." He chuckles, shaking his hand briefly and Coryo quickly recoils to wipe his hand on his pants.
"Oh, Coryo is a peacekeeper." You explain, smiling up at Ash as he drapes an arm around your waist.
"We're in the business of trusting those monsters now?" Ash asks, somehow maintaining a lighthearted tone. Like it was a joke, like Coriolanus was nothing more than his position.
"Only a couple." You laugh, shocking Coryo completely. Not so much as a word in his defense while this district trash said such horrible things about him. He was back to not even being able to recognize you. "Coryo is my best friend. We've known each other since we were kids. Sejanus too."
Best friend... That's it?
"That makes sense then." Ash nods, and Coryo stands up taller as Ash not so subtly sizes him up.
"You know, Sejanus has been awfully chummy with Billy Taupe and his friends. Ash is one of them." You say to Coryo quietly, taking up the rear of the Covey as all of you walk out to the meadow behind the house. "Have you noticed?"
He hums in acknowledgment, thinking it over. "It is odd." He agrees. He has noticed your mutual friend sneaking away on any nights out they could spare, and just generally being more cagey than usual. And it makes more sense that his name would mean anything to your new friend.
"Have you asked him about it?"
"No." He shakes his head. "You should, though. He trusts you more."
"That's not true." You laugh. "You are his best friend, after all."
"As are you." He raises an eyebrow at you.
"Oh, please. He throws that term around too loosely." You roll your eyes playfully.
"And you don't?" He asks, obviously referring to how you called him your best friend earlier. It's working. This was evidence that referring to him that way was driving him crazy- you had him wrapped around your finger, and you loved the feeling.
"Nope." You grin, bumping him with your shoulder. "Have I told you the haircut is really working for you? Because it is."
"Thank you. It wasn't by choice." He explains, smiling at the compliment but shrugging it off.
"I figured." You laugh, reaching up to run your hand over his shaved head. "I miss your curls, though..."
"Y/N! Come here!" Ash calls from up ahead, walking backward now as he waves for you to join him.
"Coming!" You call back, immediately ditching Coryo to catch up with him.
Coryo cringes at how his boots sink into the dirt and how you let Ash yell at you like that. Like you were a dog. You'd hardly known the guy for a few days and he's already talking down to you, Coryo is appalled at your taste. You run up to Ash, immediately reaching up and sticking your hand in his unbrushed hair. If Coryo was a brunette and didn't shower ever, that's probably what his hair would look like. It made him nauseous.
The following night, after Coriolanus complained endlessly to you about the birds he had to spend most of his days trapping, you had a stroke of absolute genius. He really, really hates those birds, just as much as you can tell he already hates Ash.
As the sun is setting over the field surrounding the hanging tree, you tell Lucy Gray you're going for a walk, and off you go into the woods with only your mind to keep you company.
They'd set so many traps it was unbelievable, and a good amount had trapped some of the songbirds inside. They were beautiful creatures, timid, too, for birds who were typically so vocal. They were products of the Capitol, so that would only make sense. You were careful not to make a sound as you opened every trap you could reach. You could just hope that by the time Coryo and his group arrived in the morning, they hadn't been trapped again.
You knew this was likely considered treason, interfering with government projects, but you didn't have a whole lot to lose, and seeing the frustration on Coryo's face when he ranted about how stubborn these birds were made the risk well worth it. It wasn't the revenge you were used to doling out to people who had wronged you, but you had been working on changing, after all.
After setting free no less than twenty birds that blew your hair back out of your face as they shot out of their cages, occasionally thanking you by singing your footsteps back to you or clawing at your arms, you made your way back to the street to head back to Lucy Gray's home.
You sucked your teeth over the stinging in your skin from the small cuts and scrapes that nnow littered your forearms. You suddenly understood why Coriolanus hated the creatures. They were beautiful singers, but clearly so inconsiderate. They'd be trapped again anyways, you were just delaying the inevitable to piss off your friend. They got scratches on you, but your people would still win the war.
You lift the excess fabric of your skirt to pat the beading and drying blood off of your arms as you walk. The town was quiet, only a few people scattered around very rarely. Either homeless or drunk, minding their business as you silently made your way down the dimly lit streets toward the seam. You recognize you're almost home when you pass the Hob, through the alley where Coriolanus graced you with his subpar apology. Squinting toward that same back exit as the door creaks open, you move across the alley to hug the opposite wall as you walk, trying to mind your business.
"Yeah, okay. I'll arrange for that. Thank you, yeah. We'll work it out. I promise." Was that... Sejanus? Your theory is confirmed when the speaker steps out into the alley. It was quiet, a weeknight. If the Hob had been open, it was deadly quiet by this hour.
"Sejanus?" You call out, speaking without thinking.
The boy jumps, slamming the door behind himself and looking toward you quickly. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" You can see the panic in his eyes as you get closer, tucking your bloody and exposed arms behind your back.
"Just out for a walk. I wanted to look at the stars." You nod up to the unpolluted and clear sky to accentuate your point. The sky didn't look like this at home. "What about you?"
"Oh! Uh, same." He lies. "It sure is beautiful out tonight."
"It is." You agree, looking up at the stars for a beat while you cross your arms over your chest in the silence. "Who were you talking to?"
As he panics you try and tuck your arms back once more, the stinging of movement reminding you of why you hid them in the first place. "Just, uh, no one. Myself."
You hum in response. Sejanus made his fake story hard to believe. "Why don't you trust me?" You ask, tilting your head at him. "I feel like after all we've been through, you should trust me more."
"I do trust you." He replies quickly. "It's less about that, more about... I don't want you to get involved. It's better for you."
"Is Coriolanus involved?"
"No. No, he doesn't know anything. Same as you."
You nod slightly, looking him up and down. "Well... If you need help or you're in a tough spot, come to us, okay? There are few people you can trust out here. We have to have each other's backs."
"No, no, it's not like that." He assures you. "But okay. If I need help, I'll ask."
You smile. "Well, you better get back. Don't want to get caught out so late."
"You too, Sage."
You chuckle, giving him a quick wave as you walk back away from him.
Even in the dim lighting, he could see the marks across your arm that you tucked away with your turn, sauntering away casually in the direction of your current home on the Seam.
Coriolanus was walking a beat alongside the market almost a week later, the one his bunkmate usually took, but today he was too hungover to crawl out of bed. Coryo didn't have the stomach to watch you drool all over that district boy today, so he decided to just take the shift for his new friend instead of bothering to see you. Maybe, this would result in Beanpole owing him a favour anyway, and that was always nice to have.
It was a Thursday, so not all that busy at the market. It was mostly just mother's gathering food and supplies, which left him incredibly bored for most of the morning. He was wallowing in his self-pity when something finally drew his attention. Your laugh. He would know it anywhere. He scans the street again, posture straight as he tries to track you down, which doesn't take long.
Of course, there you are with your new friend, his arm over your shoulder as you hold his hand against your chest. God, Coriolanus hopes you don't spot him. He looks straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek and wishing he could disappear. You were torturing him, the fact that you couldn't see that, or you just didn't care, was driving him insane. It was worse than if you had just stayed in the Capitol.
Now, he can't help but focus on your voice on the mostly quiet street.
"No, I know!" You giggle, looking sideways at Coriolanus who stood at the edge of the street. You're sure by now he had seen you. You didn't know he would be here, normally he wouldn't, but it makes the task of agreeing to spend time with Ash more bearable. At least it was for a reason. "I've never touched a mandolin before, how could they expect me to pick it up in one night?"
"Well, I'd sure be surprised if you could. No one learns that fast." Ash replies, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You hate it, you want to shove him off and hit him where it hurts, but you can't. At least Coryo was here to witness it.
"True." You nod, walking with him slowly past the stalls, browsing at some of the small trinkets and goods they had. It seemed to be all random things, which was foreign to you. Back home, every store had a purpose, even after the war the Capitol held onto this sophistication. "This is so pretty!" You smile, spinning out from under his arm to get a closer look at a dress someone had made. It was shorter than your skirt, typically one that would be worn by a child in this region, but it was oversized enough that you could wear it and it would land mid-thigh.
"How much is this?" You ask the woman sitting behind the wooden table, holding up the dress that she had clearly made.
"Forty." She answers, nodding to you. "It's steep, but I put a lot of work into it. It'll last your daughter a long time."
"Oh, no." You giggle, shaking your head. "I was thinking for me." You say, lifting part of the fabric to admire the stitches.
"For you?" Ash asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Yes, what do you think?" You reply, holding it up in front of you. "I like the red accents. It's beautifully made."
"You'll look like a damn prostitute," Ash replies without missing a beat. "That's what I think."
You bite your lip, face going red as you look down at it draped against your body. You're not sure if it's from anger or embarrassment. You sigh, folding it up again and turning to the woman who looks shocked. "I'll take it." You smile suddenly, placing it back down while you dig out some cash from your pocket, handing her fifty. "And don't worry about making change, I just hate carrying coins around."
"Thank you, dear. You enjoy." She smiles gratefully, taking the money and tucking it away in her pocket. You nod at her, and before you even turn around with the new dress under your arm you feel a firm grip on your skin, yanking you away from the stall and into a side street.
"Hey! Let me go!" You shout, trying to peel Ash's grip from your arm where it's digging in so tight it's already flushing the areas and opening your healed scratches from the birds, smearing the drops of blood across your skin.
"No, you listen to me." He says, dropping your arm in favour of pointing a finger right in your face as you're backed up against the wall. "If you're gonna be my girl, I'm not letting you walk around like some kind of whore. Do you understand?" He says, clearly fumingly angry by now.
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You don't scare me, you're a district-born loser with no fucking job! How dare you try and tell me what to do with my-"
You're cut off when he smacks you. You take a shaky breath, instinctively holding the side of your face where his palm made contact. You feel your confidence faltering with the heat pulsing under your skin, and with your eyes closed in this back alley, suddenly you're back home. But you're not. You're not home, and he's not your father, and here, you're free. You're gonna kill him.
You open your eyes and stand up straighter, looking him dead on as your chest heaves with anger. You shove him back, pulling your arm back in his moment of shock to take a proper swing at him as he scrambles to push you back up against the wall. In your rage, you failed to account for the fact that he was much bigger than you.
"Hey! Back off her! Now!" Coriolanus shouts, clicking the safety off his gun before Ash can lay another hit on you, gun aimed unwaveringly at the boy as he quickly walks toward the two of you.
Ash panics, and you feel this as the forearm he had pressed up against your throat, pinning you to the wall loosened its hold and you shoved him off just in time for Coryo to push his way between the two of you, the barrel of his gun now inches from Ash's nose.
He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, we're cool. I didn't do nothin' to her."
Coriolanus is fighting every urge to just pull the trigger on the loaded weapon in his hands. For you. For this asshole hurting you, for touching you, for the crime of even looking at you, he should do it. He breathes heavily, every muscle in his jaw constricted so tightly he's sure it'll ache for weeks.
You watch over your friend's shoulder, watching the gears turning in his head. Do it, you want to tell him, but even in your anger you can see that's irrational, so you keep your mouth shut.
Coryo sighs, lowering his weapon to use it to gesture to the street. "Get out of here." He mumbles, deciding to let him go. "And never so much as look at her again, understand?" You're almost a little disappointed as Ash spits on the ground at your feet, starting to walk away when Coryo turns the gun faster than you can process and jabs the butt end of it into Ash's face. A chilling crack echoes out against the crumbling walls surrounding you and he hits the ground, unconscious with an obviously broken nose.
Coryo is panting as he turns back to you, quickly throwing the gun back over his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asks, reaching out and holding your shoulders, hands running down your arms quickly to look over the injuries. "Did he do this to you?" He looks over the scattered cuts and scratches. He could tell they were healing, and they were inconsistent with what could be done with a blade or a man-made weapon, so he deducts quickly that you must have fallen into the wrong bush or something. Maybe when you were gardening.
You shake your head quickly, eyes locked on the boy on the ground.
"Hey, no, look at me. Are you okay?" Coryo asks again, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. He nods expectantly, waiting for you to answer.
"Yes. Fine." You whisper shamefully, giving a slight nod under his gentle hold.
"C'mere..." He mutters, pulling you closer to hug him. He sighs, holding the back of your head and gently smoothing down your hair. It shocks him when you start to shake, trying to muffle your crying in the fabric of his uniform. He shouldn't have waited so long. He took his eyes off you for less than a minute to maintain his own sanity, and this is what happened.
You knew you were safe with Coryo, this was your fault for straying from that over some petty anger. He had betrayed you, sure, but he told you it was because he only wanted to help. If you had listened, none of this would have happened. You should have known he was right. At least he hadn't abandoned you, he'd even saved you. You were lucky he was even around.
"He hit me." You sniff through sobs, gripping tightly onto the back of his grey uniform. "I didn't, I don't know why, I-"
"Hey, hey, hey..." Coryo shushes you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you. You're safe now. I'm here."
"I'm sorry..." You sniff, overtaken by the foolishness of your own decisions. For denying your feelings for him in a way that only resulted in hurting the both of you.
Coryo has to fight back a smile as he takes in the familiar scent of your hair. "Don't be." He whispers, kissing your head. "I'll always protect you."
You nod against his chest, locking yourself firmly into his grasp. Even as your blood dried and stuck to his coldly grey uniform, you found it hard to let him go.
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starry-eyes-love · 4 months
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Darlin', You're Beautiful
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Pairing | Best Friend Joel Miller x Curvy F!Reader, AU (no outbreak)
Summary | After having been stood up from another date yet again, you went to the park with Joel Miller, your best friend, to hang out. You're lost in your own head, not believing that you're beautiful when Joel reminds you of where beauty truly lies, from within.
Warnings | 18+ Minors DNI, age gap (she's mid 20s, he's early 40s), reference to reader being curvy, language, self esteem issues and discussions, terms of endearment (honey, sugar, baby, darlin'), heavy kissing, sexual tension a bit, brief reference to smut, fluff.
Word Count:  2.6K
A/N: This one comes from a space that's been taking up my personal headspace for far too long. She’s a little emotional, but that’s ok. Remember, beauty comes from within. Enjoy :) 
Joel's words lingered in the air, “baby, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he whispered, while slowly thrusting inside of you. He was giving you a gentle reminder that beauty, true beauty, was seen from inside a person's soul. 
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Joel leaned back against the old oak tree in the park, the soft rustle of the leaves above him providing a calming backdrop. His heart was pounding in his chest, nerves taking root in his body. Man, she’s beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.  And you were, you were beautiful.  You were beautiful because you had a beautiful soul.  
For all of your life, you didn’t believe that you were beautiful.  Society had a specific version of what beauty was, and you felt like you never lived up to that expectation. You were not skinny with a flat stomach, you had a little bit of a tummy on you.  You were sitting in the park, watching the Texan sunset with your best friend, Joel Miller, and you were silently scolding yourself yet again. Your second date with a guy last night didn’t go as planned, the man never showed up.  Somehow once guys saw that you weren’t the super skinny woman with a big chest, they didn’t want to be with you, and they’d bail on you every chance that they had.  
Joel hated seeing you like this, berating and belittling yourself over not being what boys thought were beautiful.  And that's who you were attempting to date, boys.  Joel, being a man in his early 40s, saw women differently than what men in their 20s did.  You weren’t a baby in life, being in your mid 20s yourself, but the men that you attempted to date were.  They were too egotistical, caring more about getting laid and the final score at the end of the night than treating a woman with any real respect. 
So after sitting with his back against the tree for a bit, and taking in the beautiful Texan sunset, Joel tipped his baseball cap back slightly to look at your face. As he stared at you, he noticed that your once warm eyes that were full of life and happiness, now looked lost. Without giving it another thought, Joel opened his mouth and said the thing that he’s wanted to say to you for a long time. 
"Darlin', there's been somethin' on my mind that I wanted to tell ya," he stated, his voice heavy with that slow Southern drawl.
Glancing over at Joel with curiosity you said, “What is it, Joel?"
While grabbing a blade of grass and beginning to twirl it between his fingers, a nervous habit that he had, he said "well, sugar, I've been thinkin' a lot about the type of men that you’ve been tryin’ to date. And well honey, they’re just little boys. Little boys who think they know what’s right for a woman, but they don’t. They don’t know what’s right for ya.”
You told him “ok” in a voice that you didn't quite recognize as your own, one that was so meek and mild. You weren’t the girl who usually got down on herself so much. But recently it had been too much with being stood up on dates, or just being told no in the most embarrassing and rude way possible.  Usually a few situations like this wouldn’t bother you, but recently, it has become too much. 
Joel, shaking his head, looked back over at you and said “Darlin’, when are ya going to stop believin’ all the garbage these boys say, and start believin’ in something that matters?”
“What matters Joel, huh?” you said, straightening up and shooting him a dirty look with your eyes. This was not the conversation that you wanted to have right now, one that discussed your choices.  Yes, Joel was right, but you didn’t want to hear him say it right now.  You didn’t want him to rub your nose in the fact that you couldn’t seem to pick a good guy to go out with ever. 
“Ya gotta start believin’ it honey, that you’re beautiful, and not waiting on some dumbass guy to say it to you. Y/n, you are beautiful.” Joel said, looking at you tenderly, trying to communicate the feelings that he’s felt for you inside for a long time.
You just stared at Joel, pondering why he would go to this length to say this to you. In the last 5 years that the two of you have been friends, not once did Joel Miller ever say that you were beautiful.  It’s just not something that the two of you have ever talked about before. And if you were being honest, you wondered why now he chose to bring it up. 
"Joel, you're sweet. But come on, let's be real. I'm not exactly the definition of beautiful." you said, looking over at him.
Joel sighed, trying to make you understand what he saw. "You may not see it darlin’, but I do. I see it every time you smile with the way your eyes light up. Or the way you snort when you laugh, especially when you find something really funny. When you talk ‘bout things that you love, I see you open your heart up to the person you’re talkin’ to. Or even that cute little blush that ya get when you get embarrassed. Beauty isn't just about appearance darlin’; it's about the way you carry yourself, the kindness in your heart, and the way you make other people feel."
Shifting uncomfortably, clearly not used to receiving these types of compliments from anyone, but especially a man and your best friend. "Joel, you're exaggerating. I appreciate it, but I'm not the type of girl people describe as beautiful."
Joel once again shook his head. He wanted you to see what he saw, the beauty that you had within you. "That's where you're wrong darlin’. You have this unique charm that goes beyond what people think is beautiful. It's about you being genuine, and baby, you are as genuine as they come."
“Well, I’ve never felt like it.” You looked over at Joel with soft eyes, wanting to believe everything that he was saying to you.
“Well that’s what’s wrong darlin’. You are the best type of beauty possible.  Beauty of the soul. And baby, I can’t get enough of it if I’m being honest.”
“Joel, what are you- what are you saying?” you asked softly, with slight irritation in your voice at how in-depth this conversation has gone. 
Joel scooted closer to you, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m saying that it’s your uniqueness that makes you beautiful darlin’. That it’s something rare to find, that you’re something rare to find. And baby, I find you incredibly attractive because of it."
A soft blush tinted your cheeks at Joel saying that you were attractive. "Do you- do you really mean it?" you asked, trying not to get your hopes up, but secretly hoping Joel was flirting with you.  Sure, you two have been friends for five years, but you’ve secretly have had a crush on Joel Miller ever since the start of your friendship. You didn’t think he’d ever look at you the way that you hoped, that he wanted to be with you in the capacity of being ‘more than friends.’  You always thought that he liked women that didn’t have curves like you did. 
Joel looking at you with hooded eyes said, "Baby, I've spent enough time with ya to know that there's more to beauty than what meets the eye. It's about the way you make people feel, the way you make me feel.  That genuine kindness you show me and others. That’s what makes your truly beautiful darlin’."
A thoughtful silence hung between the two of you, as you absorbed his words. It wasn't that you didn't believe him. But when people, specifically other men, have made you feel less than beautiful for many years, it took its toll. You couldn’t help but slowly start to believe those inappropriate statements by others, when it was others that were constantly saying it to you that they didn’t find you beautiful or sexually attractive. 
"Joel, it's not that I don't appreciate your words, I do. It's just that, it's hard to change when other people are mean for so long, and where they have made me feel less than beautiful as a woman.”
Joel slowly nodded, understanding the depth of your silent struggle. After a moment he said, “I get that darlin'', I do, it's just that-” Joel found himself standing at the precipice of no return with you. After contemplating his choices, he decided to throw caution completely out of the window, and he decided to act on the feelings that he’s had with you for a long time.  Joel leaned forward and cupped your cheek, gently running his thumb up and down it. “If ya don't believe my words darlin'', then please believe this.” He then leaned forward and gently kissed you softly on the mouth.
What started out as a gentle, soft kiss quickly turned heated. You softly whimpered into his mouth when his one hand went to the back of your neck, that spurred something deep inside him. As soon as he heard you moan he took the kiss a step further and gently ran his tongue along the seam of your lips, asking you for access into your mouth. When you opened for him, he dove his tongue in and started a slow caress. Gentle and smooth strokes, back and forth, inside your mouth, against your tongue. You two were doing a slow dance of passion and love behind your kiss. Nothing rushed, just gentle exploration.
When you moaned into his mouth, that’s when caution once again completely went out the window. A switch inside of Joel had flipped, and his kissing became more heated. Joel gripped the back of your head in a firm hold and tilted your chin up so he could lean forward and deepen the kiss into your mouth. It was at this moment that you realized two very important things. One, Joel Miller was an excellent kisser. And two, you wanted to sleep with your best friend really bad.
As you pulled away, gasping for air, you heard Joel let out a low growl. When you looked over at him he had very dark eyes.  His pupils were blown wide, and the air around you two crackled with sexual tension.  Joel moved back towards you and started kissing down your neck, nipping and biting over your pulse points and the areas of your neck that he knew were your most sensitive zones. “No one's ever kissed me like that before” you said, while moaning softly at what Joel was doing.
“That's a damn shame darlin''. A beautiful woman like yourself should be kissed like that all the goddamn time.” He said while sucking on your neck and then running his tongue over the love bite that he just made to soothe it. 
“I want more” you gasped, moaning again at Joel’s minstrations on your neck.
“Good, you should want more.” He said, moving to the other side of your neck and continuing his exploration. Joel was trying to find out what made you moan, squirm, and call out to him; making sure to keep doing that to intensify what he wanted to do again, and that was kiss you once again. He wanted to make sure that you knew without a doubt what he felt for you, and that any real man would know how to make a woman feel beautiful.  And goddamn, you were hot as hell and so sexy that he barely could think straight. 
With a slight smile, you gently shook your head while pulling away from him and finally admitting out loud to him, the thing that has been your biggest secret. “No Joel, I want more from you, with you. I have for a very long time.” You then reached out and gently cupped Joel’s cheek, running your thumb over his patchy beard. 
Joel looked at you with intense eyes, heart pounding hard and fast in his chest at the realization of what you were asking. Finally, after all these years you wanted him the same way that he wanted you. When you two first started hanging out he didn’t think you’d like him in a boyfriend type of way, as all your interactions were more based on friendship than anything else.  Now he felt stupid, hooking up with random women periodically over the years, having you play wingman with him at the bar, thinking that you never wanted more. I’m not gonna fuck this up anymore with her, he thought, focusing on showing you what he wanted.
Joel leaned forward and gently whispered in your ear, “well darlin’, why didn't ya say something. How ‘bout this, I take ya back to my house and show you what a real man does to make a woman feel so fucking sexy. Would you like that baby, for me to show you?”
When Joel pulled back to look at you he saw that you eagerly shook your head yes for him.  He tsked at you while resting his forehead against yours and said with his eyes closed, “Now come on baby, ya know better than that. Use your words, darlin’ tell me what ya want, please.”
When Joel pulled away from you gently, you nodded your head and then leaned in. Your mouth was right next to his ear when you gently whispered “fuck me Joel, that’s what I want. I want this, I want you. Help me forget about all those other men.”
Joel's eyes glazed over at your admittance. Pulling back he whispered “filthy girl” but then gave his own head a little nod, telling you that he understood what you wanted.  When Joel stood up, he reached out to help you up.  As the two of you walked back to his truck, he laced his hand into yours, showing you how much he actually cared. Once inside his truck, Joel kissed you passionately yet again, telling you with his actions of what he intended to do with you when he got back home. As he pulled away he then ran his hand through your hair for a moment, enjoying the quiet intimacy that was present.
 “I'm gonna treat ya right baby, the way you should’ve been treated all along. My only wish is that I wish I would've done this a lot sooner. For that honey, I’m really sorry.” And with that admittance Joel gave you another tender kiss on your lips. Once he settled into the driver's seat of his truck, you silently reached over and took his hand in yours. The 30 minute drive back to his house was done in silence.  But this silence for once wasn’t awkward, nothing with Joel ever was. You didn't know why you didn't see any of this feelings before, but now you were glad that the two of you communicated.
As the sun faded and dipped below the horizon, two souls were intertwined and connected. Joel's words lingered in the air, “baby, I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he whispered, while slowly thrusting inside of you. He was giving you a gentle reminder that beauty, true beauty, was seen from inside a person's soul. Joel spent the rest of his life, and yours, reminding you of this. And with each reminder it always ended the same way, you two wrapped up into each other’s arms. He told you each and every day how much he loved you, both inside and out, with saying just one simple sentence, “Darlin’, you’re beautiful.”  And you were, you were beautiful both inside out. Not because a man told you, but because you finally started to believe it yourself. 
The End
Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42
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mikareo · 6 months
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megumi doing smth pls
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⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)
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⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.
contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)
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i. what is love at first sight
it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.
but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.
there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.
humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.
okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.
"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.
megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"
"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."
"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."
"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."
ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.
"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.
"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"
he hates him so much.
"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"
it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.
"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."
love you?
"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."
he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.
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ii. what is love that is forbidden
you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.
after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.
"uh, fushiguro..."
he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"
"i think i locked us in here."
dammit.
"you forgot the key?" he asks.
"i forgot the key." you confirm.
of course you did.
with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.
it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.
"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.
with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.
your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.
"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."
"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."
to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"
"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"
the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."
"fushiguro..."
"call me by my first name."
"...megumi."
you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.
megumi fushiguro is a coward.
...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.
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iii. what is love that is hopeless
"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."
his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.
"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."
his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."
"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."
"you're not going."
he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."
"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"
"life isn't a game!" he's furious.
"well mine is!" you're angry as well.
why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?
"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."
without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.
it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.
but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.
"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"
he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.
1.) find a way to save you.
2.) tell you he's yours forever.
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iv. what is love everlasting
he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.
from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.
megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.
"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"
he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."
a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."
why are you saying all of this?
now of all times?
you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!
"...megumi..."
"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.
"...i don't want to die."
a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.
"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."
he's a monster.
you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.
gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.
he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.
"i love you."
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊。 reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹
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iamthat-iam · 2 months
Text
"Ego", The Final Boss
Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.
The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.
Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."
She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.
One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."
"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."
"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."
Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."
Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."
"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."
"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"
"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"
"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."
"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.
"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"
After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.
- -
One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."
"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"
Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."
Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"
Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.
"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."
Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"
Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"
Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."
"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.
Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."
"You're so welcome, sweetie."
Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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Hi my love. Can you do a quick little blurby with whoever you think will fit this. The request is the reader was literally forgotten by her coworkers. They were all going to go out after work but they forgot her and went out without her. Just a comfort fic because this literally happened to me and I want to curl up and cry
Hi my love, I'm so sorry that this happened to you but I really hope things have been sorted out and/or you're feeling better now. Thank you for requesting sweetheart <3
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 957 words
Steve wonders if maybe he’s holding you too tight. He’s got one arm around your ribcage and the other curled over your shoulders so he can hold the nape of your neck, but he keeps having to squash bouts of his own indignant fury to focus on comforting you. 
Unfortunately, this is not something he can handle with a bat. 
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to,” he mumbles next to your head. Your cheek is pressed close to his, your arms hung loosely around his shoulders. You’d come home to find him on the couch and simply draped yourself over him, desperate for affection he was all too happy to give you, even if it’s a bit less fun and games when you’re upset. You’re not even really crying, just clinging to him as a slow, relentless stream of tears flows out of you. 
“I know.” You sound so dejected Steve feels like someone’s taken the bat to him, your voice croaky and tired. “I don’t think they were trying to be mean, they just…didn’t remember me.” 
“Being inconsiderate still makes them a bunch of douchebags,” he says, thumb stroking the baby hairs on your neck. 
Steve likes to think he was never that much of a douchebag, but witnesses would probably testify otherwise. Robin would gleefully skip to the front of the line. She’d actually referred to his past self as a douche-canoe once. Steve isn’t sure what exactly that means, but he’s guessing it didn’t make him a whole lot better than these guys. 
“You should come work with me and Robs,” he offers, only half joking. You normally love your job, but he hates seeing you like this enough to think that maybe that doesn’t matter so much. “The pay’s worse, but we’re way more fun to be around.” 
You sniffle, tightening your grip around his shoulders affectionately. “Thanks, Stevie. But it’s not that I don’t like them. They’re cool, usually.” Steve makes a reluctant grunting sound, though he knows this to be true. Prior to today’s incident, he’d actually been looking forward to meeting some of them. “I just wish I weren’t so forgettable.” 
It takes Steve a second to actually process what you’ve said, and then his heart sputters in his chest. “Hey, what?” He pulls away from you, curling his hands around your upper arms. “Babe, this hasn’t got anything to do with you.” 
The look in your eyes is less despair than resignation. You seem almost sorry to contradict him. “It’s not like they didn’t invite me. They were trying to be nice, they just didn’t notice that I wasn’t there when they left. What else do you call that?” 
“Not your fault,” he insists, nose scrunching bewilderedly as he shakes his head at you. “That’s what I call it. Listen, I” —he sighs— “I don’t want to sound like I’m advocating for these assholes, but you know how things can get when you’re in a group like that. Everybody’s all excited about whatever you’re all going to do, and if somebody says they’re ready to go, you go. They were probably each thinking you were with someone else. Actually, I can almost guarantee they weren’t thinking at all.” 
Your mouth pulls to one side, dissatisfied but considering. You give a little shrug. “I guess.” But you’re just appeasing him, Steve can tell. 
Fuck, he hates talking about this. The things he does for you, he swears. 
“Look, I was an asshole kid once too,” he says, and he’s aiming for lightness but he can tell by the way your eyes lock on his that you know the significance of him bringing this up. It’s not a legacy he’s proud of. “I could…okay, I’m not happy about it, but I could kind of see myself doing something like that a few years ago. I was an idiot, right? We agree?”
Almost despite yourself, you give a little smile. Steve goes on, encouraged. 
“So I can say, practically from experience, that I wouldn’t have been thinking about who was there and who wasn’t. I would’ve been too caught up in the idea of what we were doing to pay attention. But that just makes me a dick, it doesn’t mean anything about you.” 
You tilt your head, giving him one of those thoughtful, open looks he loves so much. He likes it when you let him see all of you on your face. Makes his boyfriend duties a lot easier. “You’re not a dick,” you say softly. 
“I was,” he says, and it’s not hard to admit when you’re here in front of him, living proof that he’s got to be doing something right these days. He rubs your upper arms roughly. “But you’re not forgettable.” 
You sniff again. Steve is pleased to note that your tear ducts seem to have emptied their reserves enough for the time being. He’s not sure whether that’s because you believe him or because you’re just choosing to let his affection outweigh your coworkers’ callousness for the evening, but either is alright with him. He can love you enough to make up for all of those fuckers. 
“Can I hug you again?” you ask, and he’s quick to oblige you, slotting you back between his arms where you belong. 
“When you go back to work, I bet they’re all going to feel really bad,” Steve grumbles, letting his grip tighten slightly around your ribcage. “But if you want to just avoid all that, the option to come work at Family Video is still open. I know a guy.” 
Your laugh is croaky but real, and the sound of it makes Steve want to squeeze the life out of you for happiness. “I’ll think about it.” 
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miracleonice87 · 9 months
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from uncle trav to killa dad
part of the kissing kelce universe
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a/n: apparently she writes NFL fic now. no one is shocked. the first installment in the kissing kelce miniseries / universe! sharing the first 3,400ish words of the 8,100ish I already have written... "alright nah" 😈 hope y'all enjoy! (also, will make a masterlist for this universe specifically -- until then just use the "kissing kelce" tag)
warnings: swearing, sickness / vomiting, alcohol, mentions of menstrual cycles / unprotected sex / pregnancy / babies, allusions to not keeping a pregnancy / not being ready to have kids, basically don't read if pregnancy / having kids is triggering for you
word count: ~3,400+
___
February 2023
It was only the end of its second month, but 2023 was already one of the best years of Travis’s life. 
First off, this was the first calendar year he had ever begun as your husband, not your boyfriend or your fiancé, which still delighted him to no end, hence why he was constantly referring to you as “Mrs. Kelce,” both publicly and, his favorite, privately. Two weeks ago, he’d won his second Super Bowl after competing against his big brother and best friend, Jason – a literal childhood dream come true. And in one week’s time, he’d be hosting Saturday Night Live. Saturday. Night. Live. As in, “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night.” As in 30 Rockefeller Plaza. As in who in the fuck was about to let him do that?!
Travis Kelce had the world on a string, you by his side, and he could not ask for more. 
Except for you to shake the illness that had been plaguing you for the last several days.
You’d always been an expert napper, but usually for no more than an hour or so; this week you’d been going to bed early, sleeping late, and napping for two or three hours at a time, and Travis was highly concerned. He didn’t like seeing you stub your toe, let alone seeing you struggle with such low energy. He had a growing feeling this was more than just you catching up on your rest after a jam-packed week of team festivities and visitors. 
This especially worried him knowing that the two of you needed to leave for New York City first thing tomorrow morning. For a normal event appearance, he’d be moving flights or changing dates, making any adjustments necessary to tend to you and make you as comfortable as possible, but he didn’t exactly have that flexibility with SNL, and he was beginning to panic a bit. 
After a Zoom call with his agents and the SNL producers walking Travis through the schedule for his upcoming rehearsal week, he flipped his laptop shut and immediately hustled up the steps to the primary bedroom, where he assumed you must still be sleeping, as he hadn’t heard any movement upstairs during his call – not even that of the dogs, who usually found their way downstairs to him when they heard his voice as he was taking calls.
Your husband couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off. 
Travis made quick work of striding down the long hallway and sneaking into your bedroom, trying not to make the hardwood floor creak beneath his large frame as he sidled up to your side of the bed. Sure enough, he found both Rambo and Chauncey snuggled at your feet, popping their heads up when he entered the room, clearly on guard and ready to defend their sleeping mama should the need arise. He ruffled their fur upon his approach and made a mental note to reward them with treats for that later, then focused his attention back on you. 
Usually, you rested serenely on your back or side, with a single pillow beneath your head; today, you obviously couldn’t get comfortable, because you were curled into the fetal position with an arm flung between two pillows messily folded under your head, another pillow shoved between your chest and your knees. Even in your sleep, your brows were drawn together in discomfort. He hated to wake you, but his intuition was nagging at him to ensure that you were okay. As he slowly lowered himself to the edge of the bed and traced your bottom lip tenderly with his thumb, you stirred, blinking bleary eyes. 
“Hey, sweetness,” Travis whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “How’s my girl doin’?”
With his lips still resting against your skin, his hand cradling the back of your head, you groaned. You weren’t one to complain, but whatever this sickness was that you’d been dealing with was kicking your ass, and he knew it. 
“Mm, I’ve been better,” you admitted, grasping his forearm with both hands to keep him close, ever comforted by his presence and touch. “It is flu season — must just be some bug going around.” 
Travis hummed contemplatively, then broke away to peer down at you carefully. 
“Maybe, but if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, we’re gettin’ you to a doctor, even if it’s in New York,” he announced, gently palming your stomach which had been uncharacteristically sour all day. The warmth of his touch soothed your whole abdomen like a heating pad. “Capisce?” 
“Yes, captain,” you muttered, hiding your face in his sizable bicep as he snickered. “I’m due for my period soon so that’s probably not helping either,” you added, a throwaway comment on any other day… 
But not today. 
Though you couldn’t see it, Travis’s eyes narrowed at that remark, flickering around the room wildly as his mind began to race. 
Nah, he mused silently. Couldn’t be.
But it seemed you arrived at the same possibility on your own, because seconds later, you gasped, exclaimed “oh, my fucking god!” and sat up straight, leaning your arms against his thigh for strength as the room seemed to spin around you, the dogs hopping off the bed, annoyed at the interruption of their own naps.
“Travis, what’s today’s date?”
He bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s the 28th, baby,” he said evenly. 
And with that, you flung the covers off and ran for the bathroom once again, dropping to your knees on the marble and leaning over the toilet just in time. 
As Travis followed closely after you, he knew. He couldn’t believe that, in all of the Super Bowl hype and hysteria, he had missed it up until now. It was so obvious. Your monthly visitor always arrived on the 20th of the month – when you’d asked once how he remembered to bring home Diet Cokes and chocolate-covered pretzels, items you purposely didn’t keep in the house and only indulged in when you were PMSing, on the correct day, month in and month out, Travis often teased that you were so regular, he could set his watch to you. 
He hadn’t purchased those items this month, though. Hadn’t even thought of it due to all of the post-win, postseason pandemonium.
And apparently, neither had you. 
He hastily did the math. Today was February 28th, which meant that you were now eight days late. His pulse quickened at the realization, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The Chiefs had won the Super Bowl on February 12th, and unsurprisingly, the two of you had taken every single available opportunity since then to celebrate his big win behind closed doors – even if they were occasionally car or coat closet doors. And though the chances of getting you pregnant during that window were not exceedingly high, it was certainly far from impossible – plus, he thought immediately of the many times he had teased his brother Jason about his “super sperm,” having gotten his wife Kylie pregnant every other year since they’d been married. And it was a well-known fact that the two brothers shared many genetic characteristics, including their size and their athleticism.
Maybe this particular trait was no different.
Though you were busy actively being sick, you were doing the same calculations in your head. 
Shit. Shit shit shit. You were always so careful, so meticulous, so diligent about timing your intimacy with Travis, taking extra precautions during those prime times and consistently warning him verbally when you were ovulating, as you never wanted him to feel like you were trying to “trap” him, even though you’d now been married for nearly a year. He gently poked fun at you and playfully rolled his eyes in those instances, assuring you that he, first of all, would never question your intentions regarding your relationship and, second, would be absolutely thrilled if and when that time came for the two of you. 
But in other conversations, outside the bedroom and the heat of the moment, the two of you had mutually agreed that since you yourself weren’t 100% ready to start a family just yet, you would wait. You respected Travis endlessly for that, because anyone who knew him knew how desperately he longed to become a father. But if you didn’t want that right now, that was the end of the discussion – Travis was adamant that nothing was happening in that department until you made the call.
But these past couple of weeks… there had been so much emotion, so much energy, and so much alcohol involved that admittedly, neither of the two of you had given timing or protection a second thought. All that each of you wanted was the other, and nothing – not the calendar nor visiting parents nor the prospect of arriving late to the celebratory parade nor being in Travis’s Range Rover when the desire arose – was going to keep you apart physically. You’d thrown caution to the wind as you enjoyed being in your little fantasyland bubble together, and now, reality was sinking in.
As you finally finished coughing and sputtering, Travis broke from holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail in order to pour a small cup of mouthwash and offer it to you. You graciously accepted and swished it around generously before flushing it away. As you leaned back from the bowl, he gathered you into his arms with a quiet but firm “come ‘ere.” You both sat on the tile, backs against the glass wall of the shower beside you, and he rested his cheek atop your head, looping his long arms around your waist.
“Better?” Travis inquired simply. 
You groaned, eyes falling closed as the now-familiar weariness enveloped you again. 
“Yeah…” he answered himself with a sigh, sensing your utter exhaustion. 
The two of you sat in wordless contemplation for what felt like an eternity. 
Finally, you broke the deafening silence. 
“Trav?” you croaked. 
“Yeah?”
“I think I need to take a pregnancy test…”
He tipped his head backward against the glass, guilt wracking his every cell. 
“I think so, too,” he echoed. 
After a long debate on the bathroom floor about how to go about obtaining the home tests – with Travis arguing “you wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me, so it should really be on me” against your “I’m way less likely to be recognized in the aisle of the drugstore” – you finally reached a compromise, which was to DoorDash a wide variety of tests straight to your door, avoiding the need for either of you to be seen out in public. Kansas City was a larger city with a small town feel, and most of the time, you loved that about your adopted hometown, but today, the prospect of being recognized sent your anxiety into overdrive. Photos of either of you purchasing pregnancy tests being splashed all over social media two weeks after the Super Bowl was truly the last thing you both needed, especially if it turned out to be all for nothing, a false alarm. 
So, instead, you had waited the fifteen long minutes until the bag full of tests arrived at your doorstep, peering through the blinds until the driver was completely out of sight before opening the door and retrieving the delivery. You grabbed a Solo cup from the pantry and quickly climbed the steps back up to your bedroom, where you found Travis sitting in a lounge chair, hands folded together, elbows on knees, chin to chest – obviously deep in thought. He didn’t seem to hear you coming until you purposely rustled the plastic bag. As you held it up weakly, his eyes met yours, and he offered a soft smile which seemed forced. 
Travis Kelce forcing a smile. A rarity.
“Secured the bag,” you said quietly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Literally.”
He nodded and slowly stood as you extended a hand, which he grasped in his as you headed into the bathroom together. When you reached the counter, you climbed atop it and shook out the contents of the bag, revealing half a dozen boxes of all shapes, sizes, types, and colors; contained in them were sixteen tests in total. You gazed down at them with pursed lips for a few quiet moments, then Travis cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him.
“Honey, before we do this, I just need to…” he swallowed thickly as his hands found the tops of your thighs, and you could tell that whatever he was about to say was weighing painfully heavy on him. You weren’t used to seeing him so serious, and you reached out a hand to rub his shoulder in support. “Listen… you know I’ve always been excited about the prospect of… well, not just having a baby, but having a baby with you, but… it’s really important to me that you know that we do not have to do this. Not now, not ever. Not if you don’t want to.”
The sincerity in his icy blue eyes was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and you hummed appreciatively, cupping his stubbly cheek in your hand. 
“Thank you,” you whispered as he turned your wrist to press a featherlight kiss to the inside of it. “And I can’t tell you how much I love you for that. But… one thing at a time, okay? Let me go take care of this, and we’ll go from there.”
Travis nodded, concern etched on his brow. It wasn’t an expression he commonly wore, and it certainly didn’t suit him. 
“Yeah… yeah, alright,” he said, sniffing. “You, um, you want me to stay in here with you, or…”
You shook your head, a small smile at play on your lips. 
“No, I’ve been peeing on my own since I was about two, so I’ll do that part myself and report back, captain,” you teased, and Travis offered a shy smirk. You rested your forehead against his. “Okay?”
He nodded, head still pressed to yours. 
“Okay,” he said, caressing your jaw before standing up straight to allow you to shimmy down from the counter. He took a few steps toward the door leading into the bedroom, then turned back. 
“Hey, one more thing?” he said solemnly. You stared at him expectantly. “No matter what the test says… doesn’t change how bad I fuckin’ love you.” 
You stood floored, forcing back tears. “I fuckin’ love you so bad,” you softly concurred. 
Then, your normal playful Travis was back at least for a moment as he winked at you, clucked his tongue, and pulled the door closed as he encouraged, “Do your thing, girl.”
You rolled your eyes, then “did your thing” as instructed. You returned to the counter with the plastic cup sufficiently full and opened different tests from four of the boxes that looked the most promising, meticulously following the instructions for each. You turned them all so that the windows were face-down on the counter, washed your hands, then took a deep, shaky breath before opening the door with trembling fingers to find a pacing Travis burning a hole through your bedroom floor. You said his name softly, then tilted your head in the direction of the tests, inviting him back into the bathroom with you while you waited. He met you at the edge of the tub, where he wordlessly pulled you into himself and held you there. You closed your eyes and breathed him in, more grateful than ever that you’d chosen this man as your life partner, and that he had chosen you. 
“How long we lookin’ at, sweetness?” Travis asked, resting his chin atop your head, gently swaying the two of you back and forth. 
“Longest one takes three minutes,” you answered. “Figured we’d just wait until then and check them all at once.” 
You felt him nod and check his Apple watch. He grew quiet again for a few moments, then he heaved a sigh.
“I’m sorry for putting you – us – in this position, baby,” he apologized, immediately breaking your heart. “I should’ve been more responsible and mindful in the moment. I just got caught up in you and I… I just, I’m sorry.” 
You stood up straight, holding him at arm’s length, your brow creased ruefully as you realized how badly he was beating himself up over this. 
“Trav, honey, don’t,” you pleaded. “You did nothing wrong,” you assured, reaching your hand up to rest against his neck. “We both got us into this situation, and to be honest, I wouldn’t change how we got here. We could have been more careful, yeah, but… all I was focused on was being as close to you as possible. I mean, these past couple of weeks with you have been some of the best of my life. I feel closer to you than ever.”
He studied you diligently, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. 
“Yeah?”
You nodded, sliding your hand to the nape of his neck and bringing his lips to your level to kiss him softly. 
“Yeah,” you whispered in reply. 
He drew in a deep breath and squeezed your waist. 
“‘Bout ready to check?” he asked timidly. 
You nodded, arms falling back to your sides. 
“Do it together?” you requested hopefully. 
He nodded, too. 
“Just like we do everything else,” he replied with conviction, taking your hand in his and pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s go.” 
Hand in hand, you approached the counter, four eyes boring into the upside-down test sticks. 
“You take two, I take two?” he suggested. You nodded, biting your lip and grasping the two sticks closest to you as he did the same. 
“Ready? One…”
“Two…”
“Three…” 
Both of you flipped the cheap plastic tests at once, gaping silently down at the counter.
For the past hour since you’d realized you’d missed a period, anxiety, nerves, and even dread had been coursing through your body at the speed of light.
But as soon as you saw those test results, inexplicably, the fear, the worry, the anxiety, the anticipation… it all melted away. The little blue plus sign and the pink double lines and the blinking “YES +” and the word “Pregnant” all laid out in front of you unmistakably brought an unexpected swell of peace and joy to your soul. 
Travis’s hand flew to his mouth as he processed the results himself, and his fingers didn’t leave his lips as his eyes stayed fixed on you in quiet anticipation, refusing to react in the way that came naturally to him until he allowed you to react in your own authentic way. 
So, when you looked up at him with your chin quivering, eyes rimmed red, tears threatening to spill over at any moment, his heart flipped inside his chest, then sank into his stomach…
But then you smiled. 
“Looks like we’re having a Super Bowl baby,” you told him decidedly, starting to giggle. 
His brows shot to the top of his forehead, his hand slowly falling away from his mouth. 
“Really? You want to?” he asked softly, and you could tell by his tone that he was still focusing all his energy on suppressing his pure, unadulterated excitement. You nodded. “You’re sure this is what you want?” he confirmed, cocking his head as he surveyed you closely. You nodded again and stepped closer so that your feet were planted between his, leaning your body into him. 
“I’m sure, Trav,” you promised as he tenderly combed some of your hair behind your ear. “I honestly wasn’t sure until we flipped the tests over, but… I’m sure. I’m ready for this with you, Travis. It feels right. Let’s have a baby.”
At that, he allowed the floodgates to open. His broad shoulders began to wrack with quiet sobs as his arms folded you against his chest. You cried along with him, sharing in his relief, his elation, his bliss. 
“I love you so much,” he choked out between shuddering breaths. “Fuck, I love you so much. You’re everything to me. You always have been, but this… this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you.” 
You smiled into his pecs, sniffling. “I love you, too,” you replied, pulling away just far enough so that you could meet his eyes. He wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as you continued. “Thank you for the way you handled this. There’s nobody I’d rather do this with than you.”
Travis beamed and leaned in for a kiss, certain that he’d never received a more meaningful compliment, and certain that he had never been more in love with you.
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Honey, I’m Home! ~ Alhaitham x Liyue!Reader
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“Girlfriend?! You?!” Kaveh’s face showed nothing but utmost shock. “I don’t believe a word you say! Nobody would! I mean -- You?! There’s no way any sane woman would stay around you!” “I am not one to respond to baseless provokation, however, I have to point out that you directly insulted my partner intellect and mental well-being, to which I cannot remain silent - Though, I suppose you are intoxicated and there’s little I should care about. No word coming out of your mouth is ever worth taking into account to begin with.” Alhaitham, much to his mate’s irritation, didn’t even raise his gaze from the book he was reading. “Hey, you--! You’re SO insufferable!” the poor architect growled in anger. “Since when? You never told me about her, and we’ve known each other for enough years! You’d have let it slip somehow - Or, at least, your arrogance would’ve!”  “Your impression on my personality has nothing to do with any kind of potential slip you think I might have had. As a matter of fact, the existence of a significant other had never been a secret to begin with. You just never asked, therefore, I had no reason to go out of my way and brag about my perfectly accomplished life, considering not only your living conditions, but your infinitely tragic luck. I did not want to bother with you crying again, out of nowhere.” Kaveh threw a random book at his mate’s head, which annoyingly enough, he masterfully caught without as much as blinking. “GAHH, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” the man whined, slamming his face into the table. “FINE! TELL ME! ENLIGHTEN ME! WHO IS THIS MYSTERY WOMAN THAT MANAGED TO IGNORE THE INFINITE AMOUNT OF NEGATIVE TRAITS AND THAT STUPIDLY ARROGANT AND UNAPPROACHABLE FACE OF YOURS?! IS SHE BLIND?!” “There is nothing wrong with her eye function. In fact, she often compliments my appearance.” the scribe pointed out. “We have been together since a year before we presented our graduation thesis.” poor Kaveh spit out the beer he was drinking. “HOW LONG?!” he was absolutely convinced he was lying. “There’s NO way that is, in any way, true!” “If you don’t believe me, there are plenty ways to search for proof on your own. The only thing I would have to warn you about is not to use your usual barbaric ways of speaking to her, if you manage to find her. You will scare her away.” Kaveh couldn’t help but glare at Alhaitham, though, considering the amount of unceremonious yelling he just did, he couldn’t refute much. “Fine, whatever - Tell me about her. How you met. Something. Anything relevant. I’ll see after if I believe you.” Alhaitham had to fight the smirk off his face as he hummed in amusement - It was so easy to get a rise out of this fool. “Y/N is originally from Liyue, although you can say, after finishing her Amurta course and graduated, she would spend about half a year back home to take care of her family and help with the medicine aspect of the country.” Kaveh’s eyes suddenly shot open and he gasped. “Hold up! Is this the Liyue friend that Tighnari mentioned? They were in the same Darshan and -- They worked on their thesis together a lot and -- And Cyno too, on enough occasions -- Is that her?!” Alhaitham shrugged his shoulders, though he knew it was the truth. There were a lot of references that one must use in the bibliography, and the practical percentage of her thesis she did on the comparison of Fauna and Flora from Sumeru and Liyue was done for the most part with Tighnari. Y/N often mentioned the fennec boy being her only friend for the many years she in Akademiya. 
Alhaitham knew, no matter how nice of a person you were, if you had a unique brilliance, the common flock of mindless sheep were bound to be rude to you. He was no stranger to the endless amount of insults he received from many, although, in almost the same ponder, he also had many more compliments of all kind, be that on his intelligence, on his work, or... His looks especially. Tighnari and Cyno were no strangers to this kind of treatment, but at least they had each other - For the most part.
Back then, having a new student, from another country no less - A country with a rich history, though not as much focus on studies as Sumeru - A new student that, through thorough examination, was able to start her Amurta studies not from the first year, but skipped about a half of the years required to graduate.
From the get-go, Y/N was a bit of an odd one, and the students of Akademiya were no less lenient with her, nor did they bother teaching her about cultural differences and what not. Alhaitham, too, noticed something strange, but it was different from everyone else. Was it that he never heard her speak, even once? Or that, were it not for the amount of gossips and bullying he witnessed, she’d have been walking the halls of the House of Daena like an invisible ghost, unseen, unwanted, unneeded by all around her?
Or, perhaps, it was that there was a large amount of books that she was reading - Manuals, text-books, works, thesis of all kind, from different Darshan courses even - And for the most time, she’d read them all outside, in the forest, far away from the Akademiya; As far away as possible, if need be.
And despite the awful treatment she received, and the amount of diligent hard-work she was putting into her courses, she never seemed to frown or let things affect her. She wasn’t smiling either, and her tiredness was showing - Still, it almost looked endearing; A brilliant woman, so effortlessly beautiful and graceful in everything she did, wearing a passive, demure smile on her face, even if none wanted to appreciate it.
Were all women from Liyue like this, he wondered? Most Sumeru women he had the displeasure of conversing with were so obnoxious and emotion-driven; Oft times, he even wondered if the inspector examining them did his job well enough, because he himself could see no ounce of anything clever in their bleak, dark minds of theirs. No that the men were any different, but they had the courtesy of avoiding him like the plague, to which, Alhaitham was grateful. He never cared for idle chatting for no reason.
Hence why, he needed to concoct a proper conversation reason, otherwise, there would be no sense to start speaking with the new student.
Luck had always favoured him for some reason, and instead of wasting his time with needless research, it was Y/N herself who came over to him. She nodded her head at him as a courtesy greeting, and introduced herself as Y/N from the Amurta class. She explained that, although her thesis was based on biology, she had plenty of interests in many other areas, and having heard him as the most remarkable student from Haravatat, it was a no brainer that she’d come to him requesting aid for some book and course recommandations.
Though his reply was a simple yet positive one, informing her that, once he gathers some time, he will see what he could do, she offered him a grateful, princess-like smile, and this time, a brief courtesy, before leaving. For a split second, Alhaitham had to wonder if this Y/N had any amount of noble blood in her lineage - No woman could act so perfectly elegant all the time without some proper training from before you even begin breathing into this world.
Regardless, Alhaitham found himself completely abandoning his work for a whole day in search of accommodating Y/N, and when he searched for her with the piles of books he had for her, all of them old, dusty and tattered, she was outside, under a tree, reading a story to a little fox. Such odd behaviour - Though the fox seemed to enjoy it, as it was purring in her lap as it was being stroked. It was quite the sight for sore eyes, he had to admit.
“Ah, so fast, you needn’t! You are far too kind - There is no way to repay you for your kindness. Allow me to treat you to some tea and a meal tomorrow, please.” Alhaitham shook his head, sitting down next to her. “There are few people actually interested in proper research and academics. If someone came to me, willing to learn, there is no reason why I should decline.” he answered simply. “I do not require any reward. Simply put, I did it because I wanted to. However, if you want to repay me, then tell me - Why do you read so many books, when a lot of pointed information can be found out by simply asking through the Akasha terminal.” Y/N smiled at him enigmatically. “That is a question to which I cannot provide an answer. Not because I am unwilling to disclose the information - In fact, it’s quite silly, rather. The reason behind my silence is that... Due to this device you are wearing, if there is anything that I tell you, whether you wish to share this information with anyone or not, the whole network of people using the Akasha device are going to know, by simply asking. The people wearing this device cannot control the information they disclose - It is actually quite frightening, I might say.” Alhaitham’s jade-like green eyes peered deep into her own; They were so gentle and warm, almost resembling those of a fawn, yet even he could discern the tint of sorrow and loneliness pooling behind them. “You almost sound like a criminal speaking like that.” at the faintest hint of a crystalline chuckle, Alhaitham’s heart skipped a beat - Just one, of course, he simply wasn’t expecting such a sound as a response to his words. Was there something amusing in what he said. “Well, I suppose, considering nobody taught me the laws of Sumeru, there is little I can say to refute such a statement. Who knows, perhaps, in my ignorance, I might have managed to stray away from the right path. Regardless, what I can say is - I am forced by conjuctures to personally gather the information I am seeking. Whatever you wish to do with that information, it is up for your own interpretation, and I am unable to either approve or disprove it.” the man couldn’t help but scoff a little, though he came up with an answer easily.
Somehow, this pretty little princess was just about as much of a fairy as he was, and she, for some reason, managed to trick her way into not wearing a Terminal - Or she made it malfunction. Either way, it would make perfect sense.
“Fascinating as it is to guess, I am no philosopher, I am a researcher who bases his work on the factual, not on stories. I will not lose time coming to an uncertain conclusion.” for some reason, his words made the woman next to him chuckle again, for the second time in less than half an hour. Interesting. “Then, may I be so bold as to ask for your aid again, should I require again some kind of help oh some kind?” the woman asked, seeing as he got up, picking up the large pile of books, yet he seemed to have no intention of handing them other. “If the time allows me to take a detour from my work, then I suppose I see no reason not to help.” he answered briefly. As Y/N stepped in front of him, placing her hands over his own, in an attempt to burden the heavy weight of knowledge, he simply stepped past her. “Just show me where to get them. You may be ignorant of Sumeru’s own law code, but I doubt you would be foolish enough to ignore the laws of physics and even delude yourself that you could carry them yourself and reach home without as much as one of them at least being damaged.” he spoke, walking ahead. 
Y/N couldn’t help but blink in surprise at the rather adorable and gentlemanly reaction of the otherwise stoic in inabordable man, however, she couldn’t help but smile in amusement, catching up to his pace and leading the way. “Judging by your your looks, there is no way you weight more than these books, therefore, given their mass, Newton’s law says that an object can only move another if its mass is greater. A single kilogram equals to exactly 9,81 Newtons. With this knowledge, we have to exchange the parameters with actual numbers, in the Law of Force, which says that Force equals the multiplying of the mass and acceleration of said object; And since acceleration is measured in meters per square second --” he continued ranting on and on about the laws of physics and the approximates he took, only to feel a hand powerfully slap the bottom of the book stack, making them all fly aimlessly in the sky - And be caught with the aid of Y/N’s Dendro vision powers. Y/N was smiling like an innocent child, though, with the way she was fighting back a smirk, it only made her look like a playful, mischievous vixen. “Alhaitham --” she said, a hand covering her smirking mouth. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are when you’re rambling with no sense?” the man couldn’t help but be rooted to the spot, completely unresponsive.
What did she mean? Him, ranting idly, for no apparent reason whatsoever? That was completely unlike him - Surely, she must be mistaken - He was trying to educate her; There is reason in everything he says. “Come along, I recently brought over some fantastic bamboo dew tea -- Oh, and I suppose, if you’re interested, I have some sweet Osmanthus wine also, the finest batch. Mr. Zhongli himself vouched for the quality, and there’s no other like him, a true connoisseur in everything fine.” with a delicate hand wrapped gently around his wrist, Y/N guided the speechless man toward her home - A pretty, tall house made out of wood, vines and leaves of all kinds, all of it, carved inside a grand tree. With a wave of her other hand, she created a staircase out of liana, allowing them to get up to the top-most part of her house, where her library was. “It isn’t much, but I hope you feel comfortable enough during your stay.” still, Alhaitham couldn’t utter another word as he went to sit down on the couch. Though he couldn’t help himself and analysed every inch of the chamber, he could still faintly feel the slight rise in his cheeks’ temperature, biological and physiological truth which irked him greatly, as it gave away the speed with which his heart beat, and, consequently, the fact that, despite his ration-based life, he was somehow able to be weak before the effortless charms of a woman like Y/N, who made him act like a fool.
But unlike him, Y/N seemed to be his own personal anti-thesis; Y/N seemed so calm and friendly, so warm and with just the right amount of conversation lines that didn’t border on the obnoxious type of talkative. In fact, Alhaitham might even have to admit, he didn’t mind the sound of her voice, in fact, he might as well admit that he found it rather pleasant to his ears. In only she’d know the stimulant effect her presence alone has on his heart’s rhythm, as though someone had secretly injected him with adrenaline... There must be something to be done about this.
As he asked her about her thesis, he swore, he could see sparkles in her eyes - Her infinite amount of love and dedication for the flora and fauna of both countries was insurmountable - Y/N was writing her thesis out of passion of the living beings, not necessarily out of sheer interest in research, though everything that she’s assimilated clearly set her on the right path. In must have been some kind of miracle that his plan on working on a thesis with that good for nothing Kaveh from  Kshahrewar; Simply, he erased his name from it, and moved on to a singular part of the research, though he had to admit, the environmental conditions weren’t the brightest - The subject, at least, was highly fascinating.
“Would you be interested in writing a project together?” he found himself asking all of a sudden. “A senior had previously proposed a thesis subject that interested me, alas, due to differences of opinions and views, the project fell through. The topic of my half of the thesis was the decoding of the ancient runes from the Ruins of King Deshret's Civilization.” “That does sound like quite the intriguing thesis, and I have to admit, I would also be interested in researching the history of the old civilization... But I’m not used to the harsh environment of the desert, I... Am not sure I would be a proper asset to the team.” Alhaitham hummed in understanding - Even Sumeru people had a hard time dealing with the desert, and knowing the landscapes and the weather from Liyue, he could see the reason behind her reticence. Still, he was passionate not only about this project, but about spending quality time with the woman before him, doing what they know best to do - Study. “As long as you’re willing to join the project, I can deal with accommodating you during the practical field research, as I’m more familiar with the country.” despite her skepticism, Y/N couldn’t help but accept, completely uncaring about any risk whatsoever. As long as she was able to spend time with the man in front of her, everything was going to be fine. “Alright, Alhaitham. Let’s make the most outstanding project the Akademiya has ever seen.” her positive outlook was a rather welcome change of pace, unlike Kaveh and his constant wish to either bicker with him, or complain.
For the rest of the years it took for both Alhaitham and Y/N to graduate, they went on a vast number of adventures - Considering the amount of time it took for them to reach the graduation, it was only fair that they extend their thesis for three major regions - Deshret’s desert area, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata’s Sumeru forests and Rex Lapis’ Liyue - Each of them, with their own distinct and fascinating manuscripts, writing styles, flora, fauna and civilizations that have been rapidly evolving throughout the years. Their project ended up truly being one worthy of envy, but not without merit.
The amount of times they got lost in the desert or had to fight mercenaries and treasure hoarders, got trapped inside pyramids, ruins and underground catacombs, had to solve puzzles and decipher codes, decode runes and languages lost to time, found relics and fossils, cave paintings and old manuscripts describing never-seen and never-heard before wildlife from all over the two countries.
“Are we ever going to find a way out of this mess of a tomb? I feel like a grave-robber that’s about to lose her sanity from the lack of food and water.” Y/N dramatically joked as she used her vines to propel herself up to some suspended platforms and activate some intricate mechanism that was going to open up the door - Hopefully, at least. “We haven’t done all this for all our work to be thrown down the drain.” as the door opened, he readied his sword to attack the activating perpetual robotic monsters, and together, they would fight - Yet Alhaitham especially felt a sense of protectiveness over Y/N - Whether it was over the fact that he’s practically responsible for her life, as he got her into the project... Or perhaps it was the fact that he feared anything happened to her. She was a talented healer, and she often used her vision power to shield him from imminent danger or mend some of the wounds he got from direct confrontation against multiple enemies that came in waves at once.
Though they had lots of practical field trips that involved a ton of travelling, the simpler parts of theoretical research was often done in far calmer environments, be it either of their homes, or a neutral place, namely the popular tea house, so they could also catch a bite. Unfortunately, Puspa cafe often hosted a ton of Akademiya students, and that more often than not meant some of their own classmates, that due to exceeding envy, ended up ruining their pleasant leisure time. Just like that one time when a junior from his own Darshan of Haravatat came over to their table - Masterfully and tactically chosen to be the farther-most, retreated from the majority of the people and in a corner away from the prying eyes - And put her hands on her hips, frowning down at them.
“What are you doing here?!” the stranger asked in a rather irritated voice, yet neither of the two even bothered raising their gaze and acknowledge her presence. “Hey - Don’t ignore me, you -- Gosh, you’re so rude.” still, no answer. “Alhaitham~! Why do you waste your time around such a boring woman? She’s no good, y’know? You don’t need to help her with her studies - She’s a plant lover from Amurta - Nowhere near our above-brilliant Haravatat intellect!” the girl whined, hoping to get the man’s attention, yet once again, she was met with no response. Infuriated, the girl threw herself on the couch next to him, clinging onto his arm and cuddling on his side. “Alhaitham~! You are my senior! You promised to help me with research. In fact - Let’s do our thesis together!” Much to her indignance, the stranger was shrugged off the sofa, and received an irked glare. “I have no idea who you are, nor am I interested in your identity, but I would like for you to stop bothering our study session, otherwise I will be forced to ask the patron to kick you out of the cafe for disturbing other customers.” the flabbergast expression on her face would have been amusing, were it not for her disgusting hostility. “Wait, no -- You can’t do that, I -- Alhaitham, don’t you remember me? I’m your Junior, Emiya! You gave me a book about deciphering ancient texts a month ago, remember?” she tried to plead, but was met with a firm, negative reply. “And you -- You have to stop parasiting him already! Do your own work, for once! Can’t you see you’re inconveniencing him?!” Y/N said nothing. “Say something!” “The Phoenix does not lose sleep over the idle chattering of mice.” Emiya’s eyes widened in complete confusion, though Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a breath of amusement. She fancied herself an Empress, how lovely. “Wh-What?! You make no sense -- Hey, you’re in Sumeru, not in Liyue anymore, y’know? Get it right already.” for the first time, Y/N rose her gaze to meet Emiya’s; the junior shuddered slightly, realising the cold passiveness of her intimidating demeanour. “I don’t know what kind of delusions you like to feed yourself, but I would ask you to leave our table, unless you wish to get permanently banned from Puspa. I would like to return to the research I was doing for our thesis, until you so rudely interrupted our tireless work. Unlike you, we are not so carefree and leisurely.” Y/N curt voice had a frozen edge, intimidating the girl. “Well, whatever! Go back to your stupid grass work. Alhaitham and I have more intelligent research to conduct - And some practical research, perhaps?” Y/N had to turn her head slightly to the side, demurely hiding her mocking chuckle. “I believe it unethical, stealing one’s project partner. Alas, willow blossoms go in dreams, only to find sorrows hidden on the moon.” Emiya’s eyes were wide, and her jaw to the floor - Her mind had gone numb from stupidity. “You pride yourself with being a Haravatat student, yet you fail to comprehend even the most forward of poems. I have no intention of associating myself with mediocre people.” Alhaitham dismissed the tearing up girl with a bored wave of his hand; Y/N and him had to look away from each other to avoid chuckling, “So... I actually found this interesting Zaytun Peach wine recipe -- And I have some Glaze Lily flowers and Sweet Flower to make tea - I’ve got this snow kept for special occasions - I find tea made out of melted snow to have the richest aroma.” Y/N said, disclosing the contents of the book she was reading; The farthest away from being a research-based book. “The history of the Guili plains and the Guizhong ballista are also rather intriguing. I would be interested in finding out the blueprints and the thought concept behind it and its making.” he hummed in acknowledgement, enjoying reading about the past of Liyue and what similarities and differences exist between it and Sumeru. “Do we have any more of that special delivery Dandelion Wine from Angel’s Share?” “Of course! Master Diluc just recently had a few bottles delivered to me through his brother Kaeya, who was on an errand here in Sumeru. He didn’t stay long for catching up, but he brought the goods, so it’s fine either way.” with a shared look, the two got up and moved their leisure reading back to Y/N’s home, delighting themselves with the most quality wine that Teyvat had to offer. “That’s a fine deal.”
At some point, just a year before their graduation, Alhaitham was going to purchase some alcohol to celebrate a massive breakthrough he had in his research - And consequently, escaping yet another death-nearing experience - His ex-project partner, the senior architect student from Kshahrewar, spotted him. This blond man with a volcanic personality ended up shredding his joined thesis in a fit of frustrating rage, only to end up gluing back together out of regret, once he ended up all alone, bankrupt, and realising his once friend’s harsh words were actually viable advices that he should have heeded long ago.
There was no reproach in his words - Alhaitham had nothing to gain out of making Kaveh feel even more humiliated by his own failures, brought upon him mostly by his overly empathetic nature. He had to admit, bit of this precious and rather naive selflessness he could very often see in Y/N, which only made him feel more afraid that there might be some brainless deadbeats upsetting her or taking advantage of her benevolence.
Still, interestingly enough, after getting drunk enough to spill out all of his grievances, Kaveh found himself speaking of some rather interesting rumours. “Ever heard of the flower fairy rumour?” he asked. “They say once a month, at midnight, there’s this mystical being, beautiful as no other woman, and she dances on the sheen of the lake.” “You don’t seriously believe such ridiculous children stories, do you?” Alhaitham scoffed, raising the beer bottle and drinking a bit, yet his eyes never once left the blond. “I believe it more than the Wisdom Seelie, the children of the forest or the Aranara.” the architect grumbled. “How ridiculous.” still, he couldn’t admit, Alhaitham had his own suspicions on who this might be, and his professional curiosity had him want to come to a concludent answer. “Honestly, if that flower fairy is real, she might be the only living being capable of liking someone as arrogant and insufferable as you. No human woman could ever stand you.” Kaveh hiccuped as he sneered at his refound friend. Such a proposition sounded so much like a challenge, that Alhaitham found himself internally accepting.
Thus, every night for a whole month, Alhaitham hid behind a tree and investigated the lake area for any signs of this supposed fairy - And finally, his hard work came to fruition. From the direction of Y/N’s home, followed by an array of forest animals, the glowing silhouette of a gorgeous woman playing a sorrowful tune on the flute piqued his attention. Indeed, it was Y/N, just as he suspected, yet now he could see why she would be mistaken for a fairy. Wherever her barefeet would step, flowers would grow. Her long, light pink dress, flowy and embroidered with the finest gold thread, made her look like a lotus bloom. Her long hair of the most beautiful shade was embellished with royal-looking jewellery, and even her make up, so soft and delicate, yet so feminine, made her face look prettier than the moon itself.
Placing the flute inside her sleeve, Y/N stepped on the mirror sheen of the lake that seemed to sparkle with zircons from the silver light of the celestial body up on the dark night sky, and accompanied by what no doubt was an old Liyue melody, Y/N performed a dance, so enticing, so fluid, like a willow tree in the gentle breeze of spring. Every move she made, every little twitch and tweak of her joint, her body, all of them were perfectly calculated, even the amount of green dendro magic that made her performance even more alluring and worthy of being mistaken with a fictional mythical being.
By the time she was done, Alhaitham was leaning back on a tree, applauding. From the shock of being discovered, Y/N’s cheeks flared red with warmth and embarrassment. “Of course it had to be you who would find me out.” “It was actually a senior of mine who mentioned the rumours of this supposed flower fairy. I had my suspicions, and I felt compelled to have them approved or denied.” the corner of his mouth slightly twitched upwards in a smug smirk. “It seems my intuition hasn’t failed me yet.” “Tian na!” Y/N found herself softly shaking her head, a gorgeous smile gracing her features as she stepped on the soft grass next to him. “Fate sure has the weirdest ways of bringing people together.” Alhaitham found himself scoffing in distaste at the sheer notion of destiny. “Don’t use such foolish words. We are humans, and we create our of path in life. It is our actions and choices that define us, not the biblical or religious concept of a life already chosen and woven for you since before you are conceived and brought into this wor--” before he could continue rambling on about his own views on fate, Y/N reached up to pick his chin, bringing him down to her level, and with one hand on his shoulder to lean up, she captured his soft lips into a kiss that left him speechless from surprise.  “For years we have been friends, yet I cannot tire of how adorable you are when you’re so flustered that you end up ranting over the weirdest things.” Alhaitham wanted to scold her for doing something so uncharacteristic and unexpected, wanted to refute her claim of him ranting over ‘weird’ things - Or simply, the idea of him ‘ranting’ was ridiculous - Somehow, instead of all that, his body moved on his own and his brain took a short break, and the otherwise stoic man found himself cradling dearly Y/N’s form in his strong arms and sharing a much more loving and intimate kiss that seemed to allow the river of emotions to flow and come undone and expose itself in all its glory and vulnerability.
“You are bulshitting me because I’m drunk.” Kaveh growled at his friend. “You just randomly remembered those stupid rumours about the fairy thing and use that against me.” “I already told you, it’s not my job proving to you that I’m speaking the truth.” Alhaitham simply took another gulp of his beer. “But you said the fairy was just a stupid joke! And you never mentioned working on a thesis with someone else! Or having a friend, let alone a girlfriend! Hell, I thought nobody liked you! I still do!” the architect pointed an accusatory finger in his face. “I refuse to bother replying to your ridiculous disbeliefs anymore.” the scribe huffed, ready to take out his headphones and tune out the noise pollution that Kaveh was providing. “HEY, DON’T IGNORE ME! GIVE ME ANSWERS! I DON’T BELIEVE THAT STUPID STORY--” just as Kaveh shot up to his feet, slamming his hands onto the table, the front door was opened, and a beautiful woman entered the living room. “Honey, I’m home~!” her crystalline voice chimed, making Alhaitham smirk smugly and putting back his headphones in his belt pouch. “I brought some Osmanthus wine and moon cakes!” Kaveh’s eyes bulged out of their orbit and his jaw was to the floor, watching the beautiful woman plop down on the couch next to his friend and sharing such a tender kiss with him. “Oh - You must be Kaveh! I heard so much about you! I’m Y/N. Alhaitham’s fiance. I came to Sumeru from Liyue and enrolled in the Amurta Darshan course and graduated with a joined thesis written with him.” “F-F-Fi... Fi... Ance...?!” the blond fell back on his seat. “I-I thought you said... Girlfriend...” “I actually used the word ‘partner’, to be precise. You simply assumed, and I didn’t bother correcting you. If I were to correct every wrong supposition you’ve had since we’ve met... Well, I have better things to do with my time.” Alhaitham declared, his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her subtly to lean on his side, planting a kiss on her temple, purposely annoying his friend. “S-So... You mean... She -- And the Fairy -- And Tighnari’s friend -- And your Thesis partner -- They’re all the same person?!” the crestfallen expression on his face only made the beautiful lady hum in amusement. “Yes, I suppose that is me - I should thank you for the nickname - I think being called a Flower Fairy is highly flattering. Here is my gratitude.” with a graceful swish of her hand, Y/N created a flower crown on the architect’s hair. “...You may be lovely, but I swear, you almost have the same kind of mocking cruelty as he does, hidden behind a pretty smile.” Kaveh groaned, getting up and stumbling towards the other chamber, where his bedroom was. “HEY, HOLD UP! IF YOU’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR SO MANY YEARS, WHY HAVE I NEVER SEEN YOU OVER?!” “No thirds wheels allowed on our dates.” seeing that annoyingly taunting smirk, and the implication behind those words, Kaveh let out another frustrated groan and shot into his room, not wanting to see either of the two anymore. “Perfect timing as always.” Alhaitham praised, pulling Y/N onto his lap. “Yes, well, I have to admit, I was getting cold out there, leaning on the door and waiting for you to finish that story already. Regardless... I think it’s adorable that Kaveh didn’t pick up that the reason you were so intrigued to continue speaking to me was because I fooled the Akademiya not to wear that Akasha device.” Y/N laughed lightly. “One of the many.” he said, bringing her flush against his chest. “Or perhaps, one might say, I was trapped under the charming spell of a certain flower fairy.”
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angelsdean · 5 months
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I need people to understand how S&P (standards and practices) works in television and how much influence they have over what gets to stay IN an episode of a show and how the big time network execs are the ones holding the purse strings and making final decisions on a show's content, not the writers / showrunners / creatives involved.
So many creators have shared S&P notes over the years of the wild and nonsensical things networks wanted them to omit / change / forbid. Most famously on tumblr, I've seen it so many times, is the notes from Gravity Falls. But here's a post compiling a bunch of particularly bad ones from various networks too. Do you see the things they're asking to be changed / cut ?
Now imagine, anything you want to get into your show and actually air has to get through S&P and the network execs. A lot of creators have had to resort to underhanded methods. A lot of creators have had to relegate things to subtext and innuendo and scenes that are "open to interpretation" instead of explicit in meaning. Things have had to be coded and symbolized. And they're relying on their audience to be good readers, good at media literacy, to notice and get it. This stuff isn't the ramblings of conspiracy theorists, it's the true practices creatives have had to use to be able to tell diverse stories for ages. The Hays Code is pretty well known, it exists because of censorship. It was a way to symbolize certain things and get past censors.
Queercoding, in particular, has been used for ages in both visual media and literature do signal to queer audiences that yes, this character is one of us, but no, we can't be explicit about it because TPTB won't allow it. It's a wink-wink, nudge-nudge to those in the know. It's the deliberate use of certain queer imagery / clothing / mannerisms / phrases / references to other queer media / subtle glances and lingering touches. Things that offer plausible deniability and can be explained away or go unnoticed by straight audiences to get past those network censors. But that queer viewers WILL (hopefully) pick up on.
Because, unfortunately, still to this day, a lot of antiquated network execs don't think queer narratives are profitable. They don't think they'll appeal to general audiences, because that's what matters, whatever appeals to most of the audience demographic so they can keep watching and keep making the network more money. The networks don't care about telling good stories! Most of them are old white cishet business men, not creatives. They don't care about character arcs and what will make fans happy. They don't care about storytelling. What they care about is profit and they're basing their ideas of what's profitable on what they believe is the predominate target demographic, usually white cis heterosexual audiences.
So, imagine a show that started airing in the early 2000s. Imagine a show where the two main characters are based on two characters from a famous Beat Generation novel, where one of the characters is queer! based on a real like bisexual man! The creator is aware of this, most definitely. And sure, it's 2005, there's no way they were thinking of making that explicit about Dean in the text because it just wouldn't fly back then to have a main character be queer. But! it's made subtext. And there are nods to that queerness placed in the text. Things that are open to interpretation. Things that are drenched in metaphor (looking at you 1x06 Skin "I know I'm a freak" "maybe this thing was born human but was different...hated. Until he learned to become someone else.") Things that are blink-and-you-miss-it and left to plausible deniability (things like seemingly spending an hour in the men's bathroom, or always reacting a little vulnerable and awkward when you're clocked instead of laughing it off and making a homophobic joke abt it)
And then, years later there's a ship! It's popular and at first the writers aren't really seriously thinking about it but they'll throw the fans a bone here and there. Then, some writers do get on the destiel train and start actively writing scenes for them that are suggestive. And only a fraction of what they write actually makes it into the text. So many lines left on the cutting room floor: i love past you. i forgive you i love you. i lost cas and it damn near broke me. spread cas's ashes alone. of course i wanted you to stay. if cas were here. -- etc. Everything cut was not cut by the writers! Why would a writer write something to then sabotage their own story and cut it? No, these are things that didn't make it past the network. Somewhere a note was made maybe "too gay" or "don't feed the shippers" or simply "no destiel."
So, "no destiel." That's pretty clearly the message we got from the CW for years. "No destiel. Destiel will alienate our general audience. Two of our main characters being queer? And in a relationship? No way." So what can the pro-destiel creatives involved do, if the network is saying no? What can the writers do if most of their explicit destiel (or queer dean) lines / moments are getting cut? Relegate things to subtext. Make jokes that straight people can wave off but queer people can read into. Make costuming and set design choices that the hardcore fans who are already looking will notice while the general audience and the out-of-touch network execs won't blink and eye at (I'm looking at you Jerry and your lamps and disappearing second nightstands and your gay flamingo bar!)
And then, when the audience asks, "is destiel real? is this proof of destiel?" what can the creatives do but deny? Yes, it hurts, to be told "No no I don't know what you're talking about. There's no destiel in supernatural" a la "there is no war in Ba Sing Se" but! if the network said "no destiel!" and you and your creative team have been working to keep putting destiel in the subtext of the narrative in a way that will get past censors, you can't just go "Yes, actually, all that subtext and symbolism you're picking up, yea it's because destiel is actually in the narrative."
But, there's a BIG difference between actively putting queer themes and subtext into the narrative and then saying it's not there (but it is! and the audience sees it!) versus NOT putting any queer content into the text but SAYING it is there to entice queer fans to continue watching. The latter, is textbook queerbaiting. The former? Is not. The former is the tactics so many creatives have had to use for years, decades, centuries, to get past censorship and signal to those in the know that yea, characters like you are here, they exist in this story.
Were the spn writers perfect? No, absolutely not. And I don't think every instance of queer content was a secret signal. Some stuff, depending on the writer, might've been a period-typical gay joke. These writers are flawed. But it's no secret that there were pro-destiel writers in the writing room throughout the years, and that efforts were made to make it explicitly canon (the market research!)
So no, the writers weren't ever perfect or a homogeneous entity. But they definitely were fighting an uphill battle constantly for 15 yrs against S&P and network execs with antiquated ideas of what's profitable / appealing.
Spn even called out the networks before, on the show, using a silly example of complaints abt the lighting of the show and how dark the early seasons were. Brightening the later seasons wasn't a creative choice, but a network choice. And if the networks can complain abt and change something as trivial as the lighting of a show, they definitely are having a hand in influencing the content of the show, especially queer content.
Even in s15, (seasons fifteen!!!) Misha has said he worried Castiel's confession would not air. In 2020!!! And Jensen recorded that scene on his personal phone! Why? Sure, for the memories. But also, I do not doubt for a second that part of it was for insurance, should the scene mysteriously disappear completely. We've seen the finale script. We've seen the omitted omitted omitted scenes. We all saw how they hacked the confession scene to bits. The weird cuts and close-ups. That's not the writers doing. That's likely not even the editors (willingly). That's orders from on high. All of the fuckery we saw in s15 reeks of network interference. Writers are not trying to sabotage their own stories, believe me.
Anyways, TLDR: Networks have a lot more power than many think and they get final say in what makes it to air. And for years creative teams have had to find ways to get past network censorship if they want "banned" or "unapproved" "unprofitable" "unwanted" content to make it into the show. That means relying on techniques like symbolism, subtext, and queercoding, and then shutting up about it. Denying its there, saying it's all "open to interpretation" all while they continue to put that open to interpretation content into the show. And that's not queerbaiting, as frustrating as it might be for queer audiences to be told that what they're seeing isn't there, it's still not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is a marketing technique to draw in queer fans by baiting them with the promise of queer content and then having no queer content in said media. But if you are picking up on queer themes / subtext / symbolism / coding that is in front of your face IN the text, that's not queerbaiting. It's there, covertly, for you, because someone higher up didn't want it to be there explicitly or at all.
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