#i'll message support again about this eventually

[littlelovingmouse]

i will say this about getting shadowbanned: it has in fact led me to engage a lot more with posts than i used to, i.e. i talk a lot more in the tags than before

knowing that no one but the people who follow me, and who are active on tumblr at the same time as me, can see my tags, it's been freeing, actually

like, i reblogged a post a few days ago, that i'm still thinking about; it said that the wonderful thing about tags is that it's impermanent commentary that only your followers will see, so it doesn't bother the op like a direct addition to the post might

but in my experience, that has never been true, even before staff added the feature that lets you see what tags people add to your posts and to the posts you share when they reblog from you

i got yelled at a few times in my asks by people who disagreed with my tags or just didn't like them, so while i used to tag things properly, i have since stopped using tags almost entirely, and most things on my blog are untagged and impossible to search nowadays

like yes, don't make original posts about how you hate a thing, only to tag them with the thing it's about, so that users who do enjoy it don't have to suffer your negativity, that's just basic courtesy

but it used to be that, as long as you didn't name the thing in the first five tags, no one would see it, and reblogs don't show up in main tags either

and now everyone can go on their activity page and see what tags people added to a post when they reblogged from you, and all the tags people add to your original posts, too

and even before that, people would often check tags!

but like

if i use tags to keep track of things, and be able to find them again later, i should be able to use whatever tags i want

and if i want to add commentary that will only show in the tags, i should be able to do so; i should be able to give my opinion on things on my own damn blog

and truth be told if poll votes weren't anonymous, or if i knew people could see my tags, i wouldn't add any at all, and i wouldn't touch polls with a ten foot poll pole

sorry for the rambling, but i'd been wondering why it was taking me so long to poke staff again about un-shadow-banning me (de-shadow-banning me? shadow-un-banning me? shadow-de-banning me?), and i think that's why

i've often felt like i wasn't actually welcome to interact with the fandoms i'd joined, which is why i'm almost always a lurker, who only likes things, but does not reblog them

and then i always feel bad when i see posts complaining about this, but like, idk, i'm not sure what i'm trying to say here, i do understand that artists and writers can find it upsetting when people tag their work with triggering or squicky things, or when their original content gets tagged with character names and ships and stuff they don't like

... anyway, my conclusion here is that i've always chosen wrong on those super power quizzes, my ideal power isn't telekinesis or flight, it's clearly invisibility

i just don't want to be invisible all the time, otherwise it's kind of lonely

[radmista]

jesus fuck i feel bad for your poor girlfriend. just tell her you're a radfem

My gf knows I hold radical feminist views. Even before we've dated, I've talked openly and loudly about female liberation and sex based oppression, abortion access, hookup culture making young teens think theyre abnormal for not craving sex at 15, my thoughts on shaving, etc. She's even told me that talking about these things has helped her not feel the compulsion to shave her arms anymore.

She knows I'm a feminist and that I have radical views. The only thing I've never explicitly stated is that I'm gender critical of the trans movement as well (bc in general, this is social suicide and I have a career I want to protect). I have spoken about my gender critical views, I just don't call them that in conversation. Like I've ranted about the usage of terms like "boy clothes" and "boymode" to describe comfortable lounge clothing and that clothing has no gender. We've even debated about single sex spaces and even talked about JKR's funding of Beira's place. Like shockingly, we can disagree on things and still be together.

Idk what the point of your message really was. Is it "your poor gf" bc I complain about her very gendie/tumblr-q***r viewpoints? Or do you feel bc I'm a radfem it makes me a bad partner and that my gf is suffering by being partnered with me? I love her and want the best for her, but it doesn't stop me from being frustrated when she supports a movement that infringes on womens rights. I feel like I'm allowed to complain on my personal feminist tumblr about that lol

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

?

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.6k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 |

An:It took me a little longer to post, sorry! I'm in my week of college exams, the finals are approaching. I'm studying a lot, feeling very tired. Thanks for the sweet messages! I didn't expect to receive so much support! I appreciate it!💕💕💕

Chapter 1: Sunset

As soon as the sun rose, Leon was already awake, it's not as if he'd managed to sleep through the night in any case, he was too anxious for that. That morning you would arrive at the castle, and consequently start living here. It was a big step, certainly, but it was more than necessary, especially as the wedding approached.

He himself couldn't believe that he was getting married in the next few days, it had all happened so quickly that he hadn't even had time to think about it properly. Just like that, his life was turned upside down, a pang in his heart every time he thought about it. Every time he thought that he was being forced to marry a stranger, someone he didn't have a shred of affection for.

All these thoughts disappeared once there was a knock on his door, causing him to push down his sheets and start getting ready for the day.

"Your Highness, your father wants to speak to you." The familiar voice of his butler, Ausdret.

Leon lets out a tired sigh, only muttering a small, "I'll be there."

He knows what his father wants to talk to him about, to reinforce his duty once again, to remind him about the dynasty.

There was no escape, and that was all that was on his mind as he got ready. He took longer than necessary, on purpose, just not to leave his bedroom now.

After he'd finally finished, he went to look in the mirror, just to make sure he was properly dressed and polished, after all it was supposed to be a big day. But his eyes stopped wandering over his face, and hovered on a lipstick mark on the collar of his shirt, enough to bring a small smile to his face, eyes sparkling with the memory of his beloved, his only one.

Knowing he would have to hide it, he took one last look before tucking the collar back into place. Making sure no one else could see.

As soon as he left his room, his butler was waiting for him outside, making several attempts at small talk, which Leon wasn't interested in, though. His mind was far away, as if he had never been here in the first place.

Once he arrived in his father's chamber, he was greeted with a big smile, which was not reciprocated by Leon. Only a small nod came from him.

"So everything's settled?" A small whisper, a question that Leon already knew the answer to.

His father proudly replied, "Yes, I've already arranged everything with Vladimir. You and she are getting married in the next few days." His father speaks, looking at the other man in the room, Duke Vladimir, his father's best friend.

However, Leon didn't seem at all excited about the situation, in fact, he seemed rather upset.

"This will be great, we'll finally be able to expand our business." This sentence came from Leon's father, who was more than happy with the pact.

It was a long-standing interest of the king, of course, who wouldn't want to expand their business with one of the richest royal families?

But on the other hand, Leon had other plans. Plans that were not accepted by his father.

"Cheer up, the girl is a beautiful princess, very kind from what I've seen. I'm sure you'll get on well." Vladimir says, trying to console Leon, but frankly, it only seems to have gotten worse.

"How long do we have to stay in this marriage?" Perhaps he was still hoping it would only be for a short time.

"Indefinitely. They will be the source of our success, especially the princess. We need to collaborate with them, just as they collaborate with us." The king says, somewhat obviously, that he won't be breaking the contract any time soon.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll talk to the other servants. We need to organize the wedding invitations." Vladimir says as he leaves, just after bowing to the two members of royalty in the room.

Silence followed, Leon too upset with his father to speak a single word, while the king was daydreaming.

An ambitious king who would slowly make his reign the most prosperous in history, he couldn't ask for more. This would make everything perfect for Leon to take the throne and make the nation of Italy even prouder.

"I don't know how far your greed will go." A plausible complaint coming from Leon, directly confronting his father.

"I only want what's best for you and, consequently, for my nation." They both knew where this conversation was going, but since they were both hard-headed, they would continue anyway.

"What's best for me? You've arranged a marriage with a stranger and you think that's what's best for me?" By now, Leon's voice had changed considerably.

King Leonardo didn't like arguing, least of all with his own son. However, he would never tolerate his disobedience, never.

"And what would be better for you? Marry a paltry lady? Honestly, you need to think bigger." And the king hit the nail on the head, because that's exactly what Leon was getting at.

Ashley did come from an affluent family, but she wasn't as rich as the British family. Which in this case was yours.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that." Leon was once again affronting his father, which would certainly have serious consequences.

"Listen, if you want to continue your affair with this so-called Ashley, go ahead, I won't stop you. Now don't expect me to let you ruin your own future, too."

The two of them looked at each other not very kindly, especially Leon.

It seemed like he was being generous. What's the point? Living a life on the sly with the woman he loved? It didn't seem fair. It wasn't fair.

"You still have a lot to learn, my son." The king spoke with a certain heavy heart, and at the same time a jaw-dropping arrogance.

But how could Leon calm down? He didn't even know the woman he was going to marry and, even worse, he couldn't commit to the person he loved, Ashley.

But what irritated him even more was the fact that he knew it was all his father's whim.

But even this marriage wouldn't stop the prince from having a relationship with this woman, even if it meant an extramarital affair. And Leon didn't care if that had consequences, not even for his future wife.

"All I ask is that you don't complicate things. I'm still being kind enough to allow you to have these affairs, whether with Ashley or any other woman." That would even sound gentle if he wasn't talking about extramarital affairs.

"... Alright, Father." Once again, Leon swallowed his pride and let it happen. But then again, it's not as if he could do anything against his father's wishes.

Leon stormed out of his father's chamber, strong, heavy footsteps echoing down the so far empty corridor, and he didn't even look back. His mind was in the purest of shambles, fists clenched and an expression that wasn't the friendliest.

As he walked quickly through the corridors, he couldn't help but notice the commotion outside, expensive carriages arriving in the castle courtyard, making room for butlers to work and remove whatever was inside.

He imagined it was the arrangements for the marriage, since it would take place in the next few weeks. So it wasn't anything that caught his attention for long.

However, as soon as he looked up from the mezzanine, he saw the familiar figure, it was you. Wearing a simple blue dress, delicate gloves that covered up to your forearms, and of course, he couldn't forget your soft features.

As soon as you saw him from the hall, you gave him a discreet smile, making him let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. Even for a brief second, his expression softened, but that didn't make him any less upset by the whole situation.

Queen Sarah spoke to you politely, saying how grateful she was for the courteous company of the princess, who was in fact being awaited by the other residents of the castle, at least most of them.

In fact, the queen felt lonely, since apart from the governesses, she had no other female companion to talk to during the day.

Slowly, Leon descended the grand staircase, stepping onto the red carpet, his steps light and slow, as if he were analyzing what he would do next.

Your eyes met his, and you smiled gently, bowing to him as you should. And he reciprocated, of course.

"Princess." He said, giving a nod to his mother, who politely curtsied to you.

"I'll get your bedroom ready." She says, her voice sweet and calm, as she moves gracefully through the castle.

You felt a shiver run up your spine at the thought that you were about to share a room with him. Since you weren't married yet, you were just going to sleep next to each other, a door that could be opened to connect one room to the other, since couples who hadn't made a commitment weren't supposed to sleep together until they were married.

"You have a beautiful home, prince." You murmur, the sweet smile always on your lips.

He chuckles a little, offering you his arm to hold, "Let me introduce you to the castle itself."

You smile, taking his arm and letting him lead you, obviously he was only doing it out of politeness, but you'd love to spend a little more time with him.

When your covered fingers curled around his arm, you couldn't help but feel the muscles that flexed with every slight movement, without any effort. Just as you couldn't help but notice his eyes every time he looked at you and explained something, the way his voice echoed through the empty corridors.

You walked side by side, your footsteps echoing through the unoccupied hallways, giving off a calm and intimate atmosphere somehow. You noticed the paintings, the properly placed decorations.

Even the curtains matched the carpets, as much as you were used to this sort of thing, it was still breathtaking to see such a sophisticated place.

You felt that despite your enchantment with the prince, you could see his lack of enthusiasm for you, you could see that it sounded more like a duty than anything else.

What did you expect? That it would be a fairy tale? In this life you were leading, the heart didn't always follow the rules of fairy tales.

"Let me take you to the courtyard, it's a nice day." You notice the sigh at the end of the sentence, as well as the distance he kept.

Even with all his explanations, all the talk about royal life, homework, the explanations for every painting in the corridor, you didn't pay much attention. Your attention was focused completely on him, perhaps because you were hoping for a hint of feeling, whatever that was.

Too bad you wouldn't find it even if you looked hard enough.

As soon as you left the large building, you were presented with a landscape that looked more like a hand-painted picture.

The courtyard was perfect, full of roses and other types of flowers, a wooded area, the grass all at the same length, without a single flaw. Meticulously cut bushes, flowers that adorned the greenery and gave it extra life, it seemed magical.

The afternoon sun shone down on the whole place, bringing everything to life. The birds humming and bathing in the water fountain, nature stretching as far as the eye could see.

"I hope you are pleased, princess." Leon says, his calm, velvety voice immediately making you look at him.

"Certainly, it's very well appreciated." With a sweet, polite smile you answered him, approaching the fountain and sitting down on one of the edges.

And he repeated the gesture, sitting down next to you.

Just as you were about to engage him in conversation, a strong wind whipped against you, causing your hair to tangle, the softly combed strands to fall into your face, undoing a good few minutes' work in an instant.

Then you felt a warm, robust hand on your cheek, brushing the strands behind your ear.

A gesture that was intimate, no doubt about it, and that was able to make you blush slightly as soon as you felt his hand graze your cheek, but which he pulled away.

"Thank you." You say with a gentle, shy smile, tidying up a few more of the strands that were still getting messy.

Despite his smile, you could see the piercing blue gaze, without much emotion. His gaze, which seemed to be as cold as ice, was still so attractive.

"My pleasure, princess." The warm tone didn't change his placid expression, not even if he tried very hard.

As the two of you stood in silence, all you could hear was the gentle breeze and the birds singing, everything seemed so peaceful.

Except for the restlessness of your heart, which stubbornly pounded every time he looked at you. And you mentally plagued yourself every time this happened.

Why was he doing that? Out of courtesy? Politeness? Decorum? Or were you thinking too much? Creating too many expectations?

And so you remained, gazing at the horizon and watching the sun slowly set, watching the magic of nature while your minds were in a whirl.

Your hand on the edge of the fountain, as well as his, fingers almost grazing each other, and you were tempted to make a move.

However, it would have been inappropriate for a lady, to say the least. Especially knowing that the chances of him taking your hand away were high.

So you'd better make the most of what you had.

As the garden began to darken a little and the sunlight slowly faded, Leon stood and looked around, seeing that it was already getting dark.

You've spent the whole day walking around the castle, so time has passed too quickly. At least for you.

"We should go, dinner should be ready by now." He was the first to break the silence, once again offering his arm and his company to take you to the dining area.

And there you went again, walking slowly through the courtyard back into the castle.

However, halfway there Leon stopped, picking up a red rose that had fallen to the ground. As soon as he knelt down to pick it up, he turned to you and planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand, his warm lips brushing against your gloved hand. It sent shivers through your body.

"Red looks good on you." He murmurs, placing the flower in your hair, very gently so as not to mess it up.

You made a little chuckle, the blush clear on your cheeks. Was he doing it out of politeness? Or just to keep up appearances?

It would have been a beautiful, subtle, gentle and even romantic gesture. That's if you hadn't noticed the lipstick staining the collar of his shirt.

Oh oh, poor you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting tubal ligation, eloping with my two girlfriends, adopting a cat and moving out, all in two weeks and without telling my mother?

🏥💍🐈🏠

So, I (F, 21) have been planning for a long time to sort out my life. I live in a European country, I'm in college and work part-time. For years, I've been saving up money to get financially independent as fast as possible and move out of my parents' apartment. I also wanted to have enough to pay for tubal ligation procedure, because I don't ever want children and would feel much more at ease when I'm certain that I can't physically get pregnant. My mother from the beginning was very against that idea, telling me I'll change my mind later and not to do anything permanent.

Two years ago, I've met two wonderful women, A (26) and K (23) on a discord server dedicated to our shared hobby (writing fanfiction). We'd been talking and messaging for months, eventually creating our own server and sharing our irl names and faces. It naturally progressed to a point where we chose to call it a relationship (I'm on the aroace spectrum, we're all neurodivergent and have a weird relationships with gender so it's not a traditional romantic/sexual relationship by any means). We're all from the same country so we met up a few times before deciding to all move to one city and live together. K and I are finishing our bachelor's degrees and A works from home so there weren't any obstacles. We found a flat and A moved in, waiting for me and K.

My mother knew I was bisexual and dating A and K, but thought again that it was "just a phase" and that we were only friends pretending to date for some reason. I love my parents, they are great and supportive people but sometimes it can be so exhausting to convince them of something when they believe they're absolutely right. So, I just stopped talking to my mother about my relationship and plans for the future. I visited A (and K after she moved in) in our apartment without permanently staying there yet.

A, K and I got an idea to celebrate us finishing college and A getting a job promotion by going abroad for a week. K jokingly suggested that we could visit another country and get married (gay marriage is still illegal in our country). Obviously, polyamorous marriages are not legal anywhere in Europe, but A told us at the beginning of our relationship that she never wanted to get legally married for personal reasons (but a non-binding marriage ceremony was fine with her). So, all three of us could have a ceremony and K and me could get legally married (the marriage still wouldn't be legally recognized in our country though). Then I also realized that I could get a tubal ligation in the country which we wanted to travel to (tubal ligation procedure is also illegal in our country).

I knew my mother would be against both of those decisions and I didn't want to argue with her the entire time before I left abroad. So, I just told her I'm going on holidays with my two friends for a week and she accepted that. I've also been slowly moving a lot of my stuff from my room in my parents' apartment to our apartment and was ready to completely relocate.

Anyway, the wedding went great (the witnesses were six people we knew from the discord server where we first met, who lived close by and could get to the wedding site easily), my operation went great, the trip was great, and just as we returned a friend asked if we wanted a kitten, because their cat had recently had some. We agreed.

When I was sure everything was settled, I called my mother and told her about the wedding, the operation, the move and the kitten. She was shocked and angry, said she felt disappointed and betrayed I hadn't told her about any of my plans, didn't even invite her to the wedding and that I damaged my body and would regret having my tubes tied. I tried explaining that I didn't know how she would react, that based on our previous interactions I hadn't thought she'd be supportive and that I wanted make my decisions without also having endure her disapproval. She cried, told me I hurt her and to give her some time to deal with all the revelations.

I feel terrible for upsetting my mom, but honestly, I think I did the right thing and that informing her beforehand would've ruined my mood and I'd have had to argue with her on the phone constantly during the trip.

So, Tumblr, AITA?

[nsfwflint]

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs/Official Goodbye Post

Well this was clearly going to happen eventually after retirement but I think it's for the best that I finally step away from this blog.

First things first, I want to thank everyone who supported me throughout the years. I started this blog in the middle of 2020 and all of you who supported me helped me get through some tough times, including the death of a family member. For a while, this blog was tons of fun. Ideas and words were flowing onto pages and the creative spark was immensely satisfying. Seeing people enjoy my own niche but vanilla works helped me feel good about my writing.

Like I said, this blog was a lot of fun. Until it wasn't. The pressure to perform, the idea that each piece had to be better than the one before it, even if nobody expected that. The growing "meta" of the community with certain idols becoming "mainstream". While I never tried to focus too much on notes, it did quickly get demoralizing to see pieces I poured countless hours of work into get less notes than some random pieces just because the idol I chose was less popular. It wasn't even really about the notes, it was about wanting to feel like the work I put in was acknowledged. Even though I shouldn't have let it affect me, as someone who always struggled with acknowledgement of others, it was tough on me. Eventually it felt like more and more of a chore to write because why bother if I'm not going to be acknowledged for my effort anyway?

This combined with drama from other writers (since this is goodbye post I don't feel bad about airing the dirty laundry, Peach you're still a bitch whose fragile ego couldn't take the same trash talk you dished to countless other people) and the community shifting to younger and younger idols to the point that I felt massively uncomfortable just communicating with some of the other writers in this circle of the internet, killed the spark I had for this hobby.

So I decided to retire. I flirted with a comeback every once in awhile, tried to finish at least a few of the multitude of partial drafts I had started to varying degrees over the years. But despite all of these efforts, I found that my love for this community truly died. But I still held onto to whatever vague attachments I had to this blog and tried to transform it into a random space to geek about my various hobbies since this was the biggest platform I've ever achieved while also messaging the few writers I still talked to. But as more and more of those writers also disappeared, it's time for me to accept that it's time to say goodbye.

Over the past few months I've been taking big steps to get my life into a place I want it to be and I think a big part of that now also involves laying this blog to rest. It's not fair to you guys who are still here expecting some type of possible comeback, and it's not fair to me to hold onto these feelings that at this point can only be reduced to nostalgia. While my catalog might not be as long or extensive as some of the other writers in the community, I'm still pretty proud of the work I put out for the most part.

If by any chance anyone still even reads any of my works, don't worry. The blog itself isn't going anywhere, I'm not deleting it. It'll stay here for a good long time. It just won't be a place I visit anymore.

Even though most of the following people are now gone, I want to take this time to thank some of the most influential people behind my time on this blog.

First, huge thanks once again to the amazing @lockefanfic and @sinsatmidnight. I've said it a million times but you two were the whole reason I started writing in the first place. You helped me onto this amazing journey and I'll always appreciate you for it.

@ggidolsmuts, @cataboliac, @themanthemyththeverite, you guys were some of my best friends in this community and I appreciate everything you all did for me. I love you guys.

A special shoutout to @kingmaker-a, you were my biggest fan and you were a huge reason why I kept going for a while. My last couple of pieces are definitely out because of your support.

A giant thank you to the 9,500ish who were here over the years. While I never quite got to 10k followers or hit 1k notes, the fact that there's still so many of you here never ceased to amaze me, especially since I never expected to get 100 followers, let alone almost 100 times that. Truly amazing and you all hold a special place in my heart.

And finally, to quote a manga I enjoy, "if you liked my work I'm happy, and if you didn't, I'm sorry but I can't do shit about that."

I'll stay on for a little bit to answer any potential farewell asks but I don't know how long that will last.

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs and keep on rocking!

[eyebagshawty]

Is It Really You? (Part 1)

Pairing: Astarion x Spawn!Reader

Summary: While Astarion is roaming the streets for Cazador's next meal, he stumbles upon someone crying near the edge of the lower city. Turns out, you wouldn't be a worthy victim, and you're a lot closer to him than you may imagine.

Song Inspo: Is It Really You? By Loathe

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/cruelty, mentions of abuse, mentions of trauma, NSFW (18+ ONLY), Cazador is his own warning

Other Tags: Slow burn, eventual smut, fem!Reader, soulmates

A/N: Hello! I wanted to make a self indulgent first installment to this playlist event I’ve got linked below. This will probably be more than 2 parts. I'd love to create a tag list if folks are interested, but alas I do not know how. If you would like to be tagged in future updates, please comment below or message me and I'll make sure to add you.

Part 2 Part 3

Your dagger sliced through the belly of a dead sheep, your hands immediately moving to inspect the entrails. While magic in Faerûn was quite advanced, nobody had succeeded in finding out how to perfectly see the future. This meant that most had to resort to unusual forms of divination, such as haruspicy. This involved the sacrifice of an animal, inspecting the entrails, and speaking to the god that blessed one with this ‘talent’.

Your thumb rolled over the small intestine, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull. “Well girl, what do you see? Say it,” Cazador hissed, his nails digging into the sides of your throat. The dark lady, Shar, whispered into your thoughts.

“Lady Jannath will agree to your request to meet, you will acquire 6 spawn,” you mumbled, your mouth dry and lips trembling. Your head reeled as your eyes rolled back into place, your vision a little blurred as you got your bearings. You were so hungry, but you knew the vision wasn’t good enough to acquire more than a rat.

“And what of the deal?” His nails clenched harder, just breaking the skin of your neck. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, fear nestling into the depths of your stomach.

“The dark lady knows nothing of the deal. The shadows were too great to understand if you would gain control over the area. All she told me is that you will keep the power you have now at least, my lord.” You choked out. With the grasp he had on your neck, he threw your head into the sacrificial table in front of you. You crumbled to the ground, hands immediately covering your head in defense. “Please my lord, I am hungry. It is all she allowed me to see I beg of you.” He tugged you by your hair onto your knees and bent down so that both of you were eye level with one another. You felt the all too familiar intrusion of your mind, your every vulnerable thought being exposed to him. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him; his thumb traced the ridge and squeezed it when he had pried all available information from you.

“I see you do not lie. Leave and fetch another animal, something larger. We will do this again, and you will tell me how this deal ends. Once you do, you will be fed.” You stood, and were roughly pushed to the door, feet tripping over each other as you grasped the door frame for support. “Now! Leave. My. Sight,” he hissed, the door slamming closed behind you as you stumbled through the darkness of the castle halls.

Astarion kicked a pebble with his shoe, slowly walking through the quiet streets of the lower city. His goal for tonight was the Elfsong, maybe a lonely human down on their luck and 5 drinks deep. His skin crawled at the thought, disgust with himself, with Cazador, worming it’s way through his veins.

He let his mind drift, thinking about the past 200 years — he at least thought it was around 200 years, but he had honestly lost count around year 5. He was nowhere near the Elfsong, instead walking near the edge of the city near the woods. Cazador surely can’t punish me more if I get his meal back to him an hour late, he thought. His feet stopped in place as he heard sniffling and stifled sobs nearby. He snuck closer, peering around the stone wall of a house, and he saw her.

His heart lurched, feeling a strange pull towards her; he wanted to see her face, maybe comfort her. His nose scrunched up and he averted his gaze. He shouldn’t be doing this, he needed to stick to the plan lest he end up with Godey for a fortnight. He looked back to her to see her looking straight at him, eyes the same color of red as his with her fangs peeking through in her shocked expression.

Warmth flooded his body as he stared at her. He had heard about true vampire mates from Dalyria whenever she gabbed on and on as he tried to fall into a trance. Could she be his? No, she can’t be. You’re just a spawn. This couldn’t possibly happen to you, you imbecile. He shook his head free from all thought and walked over to the bench she sat on. “Is this seat taken?”

If you had the blood to blush, you’re sure your face would be beet red. You’d never seen another spawn while out in the city, nevertheless the castle. Cazador only ever allowed you to interact with Leon, the longest favored spawn waiting hand and foot on his ‘cherished’ haruspex. You looked up into his eyes, the same wine red color, and you felt warmth flood through your cold skin and a tug at your unbeating heart. You nodded and patted the space next to you.

He sat with very little distance next to you, and glanced down at the wolf below you. He looked over your features more and noticed the fresh scratches and dirt covering your form. “Forgive me for asking… but were you fighting a wolf?” You let out a defeated chuckle.

“I’m the haruspex for our lordship. The vision Shar granted me tonight wasn’t to his liking so he sent me searching for a better, more sentient animal,” you looked down to the cobblestones below you, sighing weakly, “I’m not sure the vision will change. I can’t control what she tells me, which probably means no food for a month until his next request.”

Astarion placed a hand on your shoulder, scowling at the same ground. A shock raced through both of your bodies at the contact, jumping lightly. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry,” as he spoke, a thought entered his mind. “How come I’ve never seen you before? Surely I would have recognized your face you’re…” he trailed off. Your head tilted in question, waiting for him to continue. “Beautiful.”

You smiled at his quiet admission, looking over to his stark white curls, his pointed ears, his gaunt but perfectly sharp cheekbones. “He keeps me next to his personal quarters. I’ve never been allowed to see another spawn except for Leon, who oversees my practices and brings me the occasional rat— or cat if I’m lucky. We’ve become quite close. Well, as close as we can be with Godey’s supervision.” You heard a light growl at that. “I don’t love him of course, I’ve kind of lost any hope for that kind of relationship since I was turned,” you quickly assured, not wanting Astarion to get the wrong idea. You’d only just met him, you didn’t even know his name, but you felt deep down that you wanted to please him. “I also think you’re quite beautiful,” you whispered, looking to the sky in shy embarrassment.

Astarion didn’t understand why his stomach filled with rage when you spoke of being close to Leon. He wanted you to be close with him. He wanted to learn everything about you; what you loved, what you hated, who you were before this new life. He slid his palm from your shoulder to your hand, stroking your thumb gently as you looked back to him. “What’s your name?” He asked, already knowing it would be the most beautiful word to flutter from his lips.

You gave your name to him, your eyelids becoming hooded as you slowly leaned closer to him. He smiled and fully intwined your fingers.

“Astarion.” His lips met yours, and the tugging at your heart strained even more, an inseparable bond being created. You reached your free hand to his curls, pushing one behind his ear. As your finger stroked across the shell of his ear he let out a breathy moan into your mouth. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

He knew that you were his; his true mate.

He nipped softly at your lips and pulled away reluctantly. You both stared at each other with eyes full of adoration and soft, tender love in the mix. You smiled and cupped his cheek, eyes never leaving his. “Tell me about yourself, Astarion.”

He looked off to the side. “Hmm… well. Before all of this, I was a magistrate. There’s not much I remember except for that,” he sighed softly and you stroked his cheek with your thumb, encouraging him to continue. “I was attacked in an alleyway, beaten within an inch of my life. Cazador found me, offered help and more, and I took it. Now I’m here, I’ve been here for quite a while. 200 years perhaps. Seducing, silencing, and bringing back unaware victims for Cazador to consume. It’s monstrous,” he snarled.

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” you mumbled, searching his eyes which softened before you. “I think you’re just trying to get by. Same as me, same as Leon, same as all of the others. I think people often forget that spawn are victims to him just as anybody else. Sure, the longer end of the stick, but we’re all grasping at the same one.” He leaned into your hand, nuzzling your palm with his cheek.

“My dear, you might be the only one who sees that. But nevertheless, thank you. Now, enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” he gently smiled, rubbing your lower back with the hand wrapped around your waist.

“Well I don’t remember much of my family, but I remember my mother. Not her face, or anything specific, but how she made me feel. She made me feel so loved, supported. I cried a lot after I was turned. Because all I felt was this loss for her,” you sniffled a bit mentioning her, and Astarion squeezed your waist in a comforting gesture. “He must have loved me in his own fucked up way, because the next day I was bathed, dressed, and taken to a mother superior of Shar to learn haruspicy. It’s been about 350 years since that day, but I remember it like it was just this morning.”

He quirked his brow and the corners of his mouth turned downward. His concern flooded through your chest. “What do you mean by ‘loved’?” You filled with shame and broke eye contact with him. You maneuvered his arms from around you and stood, worry flashing across Astarion’s face. You motioned him over to undo the laces of your simple blood red gown. “If you also have one of his poems I wouldn’t be sur-“ his breath hitched as he took in the state of your back.

Near every inch of skin was marked by Cazador, each bite mark, bruise, and scratch in various stages of healing. “I don’t know if I would call it true love, he’s completely insane about me speaking to anyone. That’s why I can only talk to Leon, someone he knows wouldn’t turn their back on him. He’s tried to… be with me a couple of times. Each time I turn him down it’s a week in the dungeon.”

The emotional pain radiated off of you into Astarion’s heart. He could feel the pain of his mate, how she had been used. He brought her to his chest and wrapped a protective arm around her back, the pain being replaced with pure hate. “I want to get you away from him. I don’t want him to touch you ever again,” he growled. He buried his face in your hair and kissed your head. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. As long as you’ll have me.” He nuzzled the spot that he kissed.

You looked up into his love filled eyes timidly. “Astarion, I want that too, but I truly don’t know you very well. I don’t know why I feel so strongly for you, like I was made for you, but strangely I’m falling for you. I want to see where this goes first. And I don’t think Cazador will ever give up on finding me if I’m gone.”

He kissed your neck again and rubbed your sides. “You should ask Leon about true mates, without Godey if you can,” he mumbled as he looked to the sky. The blackness of the night had faded to a dark blue. He needed you to get back to the palace safely; the sun would rise soon. “Darling, we must go.”

Your head popped up, gasping at the lightness of the night sky. You let him take you back to the palace, frantically running away from the early morning Baldurian sun, the dead wolf cradled in your other arm. You were now a block away from the palace. Astarion took your wrist and nipped it. Your heart lurched in its place from the bond and you felt it might snap in two from how tight it had gotten. “Astarion… when will I see you again?” You looked frantically to the castle and then back to him, your worries being calmed ever so slightly by seeing him before you.

“Whenever the time is right, make sure Shar obscures one of your visions. I hunt for him every night. I will wait at the Elfsong tavern every night to see you again my love.” He kissed you fervently, lips moving affectionately with yours. He squeezed your hand and let it go. “Now go on darling, I would never forgive myself if you got punished for being out too late.” You walked backwards toward the palace, only breaking eye contact with your mate when you looked up to the window, clutching the wolf’s body tighter to your chest as you saw Cazador looking down to you in the courtyard from a tall window in his quarters. Astarion was just out of eye view from him and mouthed, “I’ll be right behind you, my sweet.” He was less scared of the punishment he would be receiving later, as he finally had something — someone — that was his.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I'm asking for a big favor.

My life is a waste! Everyone knows it. I'm not smart. I'm not good-looking. I have no friends. And, the only girls that look at me are the ones trying to look past my fat-ass body to see whatever I'm blocking. I'm a senior in high school with no future.

My dad will want me to go to community college. He'd even pay for it and support me to eventually going to an actual university. But, he just doesn't understand I'm a lost cause. I've started thinking my youth would be better suited to someone else. Someone who wouldn't waste the opportunities youth can bring.

Then I began to think ... no one is a better candidate than my dad. He had me in his mid 20's. My mom died soon after I was born. Being a single dad, his only focus was to raise me. Any dreams he had for himself were buried with my mother.

But, I guess I let them both down. My dad is the opposite of me. Now, in his 40s, his body is still strong. He has some pudge from age. He is smart and charming. If he'd get a do over, he'd make the most of it. Sometimes, he'd talk about plans he'd have but then shuts up. I guess he doesn't want to make me feel worse considering the bullying at school. The worst part is how much he actually wants the best for me. But I can't do anything right.

I hope this is not too hard. My dad already has all the good traits. The only main thing I want swapped is our ages. And, maybe a reality swap. I'd be his dad. I'd support him financially somehow. I'll drive him to his football games. And, then to college. He'd vist me, and I'll see how good his life turned out. And, eventually, when he is ready again ... I'll see his new ... hopefully better children. My grandchildren.

That seems easy enough. You want your dad to notice his glory days. And while you said he had you in his 20s why not restart the clock right then?

It’s a week before you are going to college and it’s already seemed like it’s been so long since you made this wish. You’re about to turn 19 and you even forget that you made this wish before until your father gives you a hug as you’re packing your bags getting for college. A weird electric shock goes through both of younger you touch. It was odd. Before you know you’re both saying goodbye and you get in the car and head off going to hang out with some friends for the night.

That night you feel ill. Every part of your body aches and your sweating. Ignoring that your father has messaged you asking if you’re feeling alright because he himself is feeling bad too. You taken a few shots and hope that is makes the feeling go away but it doesn’t do anything to make the feeling go away.

The next day you get up and you’re not feeling any better. If anything you are feeling worse. Granted you did drink enough to paralyze a horse last night. You go home and your dad is waiting there but he looks different. He looks…younger…he stops and looks at you. And just says “how’re you feeling bud..”. Fine fine your tell him. And he I just follows you around like sick puppy. Finally you snap demanding to know what it is. And finally he says. “Look in the mirror…I don’t know what’s happening but I started feeling sick last night and I woke up feeling great ! And I have a feeling…you feel bad. And I don’t think it’s because of the alcohol…”

You look in the mirror and you’re shocked. Staring back you is the reflection of someone who is definitely not about to turn 19. It’s more of a reflection of someone who is about to turn 29! A thick mustache rested over your lip. You could see shoulder hair creep long over your back and a thick mat of a chest hair forming. Wrinkles were staring to form at the edges of your eyes.

“What’s happening to me!!” You demand to know but your dad is quiet. You demand to know but he tells you he doesn’t know. But isn’t possible that he looks even younger now that he did when you first got home!! What the hell was going on!! It was like you two were swapping ag….and then it hit you….”oh no…no no no!!!!” And then you admitted to your father. How you made that wish a long time ago. That you felt like a failure and wished for him to be able to live out his youth and you wished to swap your ages. He was so supportive. But it was so odd. Coming from a man that looked younger than you now. “So what do we do?” He asked. You didn’t know yet. You really didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. You being forced to become older and he younger. A permanent age swap !

Your clothes quickly stopped fitting as your father’s clothes became a better fit. Even his shoes. It only made sense for you to retire to each others bedrooms at night. You even developed his habits without wanting to. Smoking. Drinking a 6 pack of beer during the day. By the end of the week you were no longer hesitant on the swap. You were living it to the max. You had become hairier and older. Aging to 43 and balding and even deviling a slight beer belly. You were the dad and treating your new son as he needed to be treated.

The difference was that you knew your son was going to have some confidence issues so you had to make sure that you being the alpha of the family were going to keep him in line. When you dropped your son off at college you took him to the wrestling coach and made him sign up for the team. He was going to be an all star. He needed to live out your dreams after all. He had some big shoes to fill and you were going to sure he filled them and he worked hard to do it.

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes. 

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though. 

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city. 

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around. 

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s  Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top  of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer. 

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately. 

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid  fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from  afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle  anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back. 

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making. 

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat,  admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair,  exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of. 

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle  scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer. 

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking  her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there” 

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck. 

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave. 

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction. 

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips. 

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer. 

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely. 

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was. 

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck. 

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before. 

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips. 

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release. 

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster. 

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart. 

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter. 

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud. 

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along. 

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release. 

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that. 

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man. 

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release. 

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time  to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was  stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again. 

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer. 

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested. 

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

[seospicybin]

ONE DANCE.

Hyunjin x reader. (s)

CHAPTERS: ONE MORE DANCE / VESPER.

Synopsis: If it wasn’t because of your support, Hyunjin would have been given up to be a painter. One day, he finally get to sold one of his paintings and he decides to celebrate it by getting himself a lap dance. (6,3k words)

Author's note: I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Feel free to let me know :)

It's 3.30 am.

Hyunjin's phone rings because he set an alarm earlier to wake him up right at that time. He turns on the bed and turns it off, might as well check any messages just in case you send him some when he was sleeping.

There are two unread messages, you letting him know that you got a ride home from your friend and that you're getting off work just now.

Hyunjin composes a reply: "I'm waiting for you. Be careful on the way home, beautiful."

He gets up from the bed fast and heads out of the room, turning the lights on in the kitchen to warm the dinner for you.

He does this routine almost every day, especially on the weekends when you usually will come home really late.

The food is being reheated in the oven and while he waits for it, he goes to the bathroom to start filling half of the bathtub with cold water and he would add the hot water later when you get home.

Back in the kitchen, he prepares plates and cutlery and doesn't forget to take a can of your favorite juice from the fridge. When the oven signals that the food has done being reheated, he carefully takes the roasted chicken out and slices it with a knife with so much attention.

He arranges the food on your plate so beautifully and put everything in place so you don't have to do anything else but sit and eat in peace.

He hears a car pulling up downstairs and he goes to the window to check if it's you, smiling when he sees you getting off the car and probably thanking your friend for the ride home before entering the apartment building.

He opens the door and holds it open with his back, waiting for the elevator that takes you to arrive.

When it dings open, you walk out of it looking exhausted while carrying your duffel bag on one shoulder but when you glance up and see him, your face lights up almost instantly like a night turns to a day.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" You ask him and come into his hug.

It feels good to finally have you back home, as if everything is just right again, right where it belongs. He doesn't need to worry about anything else, having you in his arms washes all of his weariness away.

"Welcome home!" He says as he presses a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, and eventually your lips.

He could stay there and kiss you all day but he guesses that you must be tired from work. He quickly takes your duffel bag from you and leads you inside.

"Your dinner is ready!" He informs then squats down to take your shoes off and put them on the shoe rack for you.

"I told you, I can reheat dinner myself," you scold him with a glare.

He puts his hands on your shoulder and leads you to sit on the stool facing the kitchen island with the food already served.

"Just sit and eat well!" He orders and not taking any objections from you.

You turn to flash a smile at him and grab his hand that is resting on your shoulder, "I'll eat it well, thank you!"

Hyunjin smiles back knowing that his effort is being appreciated.

Then you suddenly get off the stool.

"Do you need something?" He quickly offers help to you, "I'll get it for you!"

You chuckle and saunter to the kitchen sink, "I'm going to wash my hands."

Hyunjin let out a 'duh' gesture of slapping his forehead along with a subtle eye-roll. He then puts your duffel bag away where you always put it, next to the vanity table in the bedroom then heads to the bathroom to start filling the rest of the tub with hot water.

He kisses the top of your head once he returns to the kitchen and sits next to you on the empty stool, "How was work?"

You take a moment to swallow your food and sigh, "tiring but it was a full house tonight."

"How was your day?" You ask back and resting your hand on his thigh.

To be frank, Hyunjin didn't do much that day, he tried so hard to paint but didn't get any inspiration. He ended up wasting most of his day staring at a blank canvas and it has been like that for the past few days.

"Stuck on ideas again?" You ask with a pout while rubbing his thigh as a way to soothe him, you already know the answer even before he says it.

"That's okay, baby!" You add with a reassuring smile, "you'll work it out!"

It amazes him how you still manage to comfort him despite the exhaustion visibly drawn on your face. It should be him who comforts you, not the other way around.

"Oh... this is so nice!" You hum in delight as you slowly soak your body in the warm, nice-smelling water. You make a room for Hyunjin as he is about to get into the tub as well, carefully lowering himself into the water to not let it slosh out of the tub.

You rest your back on his chest to let him bathe you like he usually does, dipping a bath sponge into the water to softly rub it on your skin, washing the night away from your body.

Your skin is wet and warm just like the bathwater, he has to stop a few times just to plant kisses on your silky smooth skin and let his hands freely roam around your body, touching you in places only he knows.

"You're so beautiful, angel!" He whispers sweet praises into your ear.

"Can't get enough touching you," he sweetly murmurs with a tender kiss on the nape of your neck as his hand goes to the delicate flesh between your legs.

You bend your knees and spread them open for him, guiding his hand under the water to get there faster while giggling, making the water ripple.

Hyunjin let out a sultry sigh with his plush lips so close to your ear shell as his fingers easily locate your clit and gently circling on it.

He feels the most selfish when it comes to your body, he has a reason for it and he bet you know it too.

"All mine!" He sighs.

You bring his face close by pulling him by the chin to capture his lips in a kiss, a slow kiss that is both needy and hungry. He lets you take over from there, let you take him wherever you want it to go. Whichever you choose, he will follow, it stops there or… take it further?

From the way you steer him to the bed, he knows you've made up your mind. 

Further, it is!

He sits on the edge of the bed while you straddle him, naked and glistening wet with beads of water rolling down your flushed skin. He surrenders himself, letting you take him places where no one can.

Your lips lather his skin and suck on it, leaving marks on it even though the ones you made haven't fully vanished yet.

This is also why he likes to keep his hair long, no one can see the bite mark you left on the nape of his neck that he believes was still there.

He's okay with it because it's your way of claiming that he's yours. People wouldn't get it but for him, it's a romantic gesture.

You let him do the same to you but he chooses not to, he knows that it will only give you a hard time to cover them up and he prefers another way to claim you.

Another thing that he considers a romantic gesture is to eat you out. With the knowledge that you like his red, plump lips so much, there's no better way to put it to better use, if not with kisses, he would go down on you and please you to no end.

He likes giving it to you because of how much you enjoy it. Thanks to your honest and open communication let him know what pleases you or not without offending him, resulting in his skill improving a lot to the point that he no longer needs to think a lot in his head before the deed.

His head buries deep between your legs, his tongue incessantly lapping on your wetness, heating, dripping. Your arch your back to meet his slick tongue making its way to your entrance and his nose pressing on your clit whenever you do it.

Your hand in his silky dark hair, tugging, pulling depending on the intensity of the pleasure he brings on you.

"So close," you mumble, almost incoherent as you speak between your moans.

"Oh... close," You try again a little louder.

Hyunjin maintains eye contact with you as he buries his mouth deep in your wetness, running his tongue down your slit repeatedly to bring his mouth on your clit, making out to it until you come to your climax.

Hyunjin stays between your legs, kissing your inner thighs while you're relishing your orgasm with your hand no longer tangled in his hair.

He takes your hand with him while crawling over your body, hovering above you to put both of your hands around his neck to let him hoist you, fixing your sleeping position to let your head comfortably rest on the pillow.

He endearingly caresses your cheek. then kisses it, "You can rest now, sweet baby!" He murmurs.

The two of you can always pick it up in the afternoon or before you leave for work.

You sleepily smile at him and shake your head, "Just give me a moment," you say, still trying to reorganize your breathing.

His admiration for you grows bigger each day, he knows you're tired yet you still make time for him, making him feel loved and pleased.

He gets to lay back down while you ease yourself down his cock with that blissful smile on your face, "oh... yeah, baby... mmh..." you hum with your eyes closed, immersed yourself in the pleasure of his stiff member entering you.

You let out a soft mewl with your face making a painful expression for a millisecond and your satisfied grin replaces it after.

You open your eyes and find his right away, then exclaim, "My happy place!"

His cock is buried to the hilt inside you and he can feel your velvety walls wrapped so tightly around him, it's his happy place as well, being inside you.

You put your hands on his chest as support to slowly start rolling your hips, feeling his whole length inside you.

"Have you always been this big, baby?" You ask him, grinding, pulsating your hips against him.

Hyunjin whimpers underneath you, his hands gripping each side of your waist with his nails digging into the flesh, keeping you steady while you move on top of him.

You say his cock is big but you take him well every single time. It makes him a little cocky and a lot more confident in himself.

"But you're riding me so well, my love!" Hyunjin praises between his beautiful, low grunts.

A seductive smile plays on your face and you start to set a steady pace, while he's watching you have no problem riding his big cock.

"My little cowgirl, aren't you?" He teases you as the bed starts rocking to the movements you make on the bed.

You crack a laugh at his remark and take his hands, using them to fondle your breasts together. The ample flesh molds into his big hands with his rough fingertips playing with your hardening buds.

"Hyunjin..." you call his name with a lustful sigh.

His head is hazy with pleasure but he forces an answer out of him, "Yes, love?"

The pace becomes sloppy and your breathing turns heavy, your fingers clawing the muscles on his chest yet you're still chasing the high.

He senses that you are getting tired and he understands why, "Want me to finish it for you, mmh?"

You accept his offer and let him turn you over on the bed, pin you under him to let him continue with your pretty noises guiding him where he needed to go.

Your legs wrapped around his dainty waist, providing him with more depth to thrust into you. He starts slow and adds more speed as he goes.

"Oh my God!" You exclaim when his cock nudges you on the right spot.

He doesn't want to be in his head, he wants to be present at the moment. He focuses on giving you the most pleasure but at the same time enjoying the sex that is more than just a physical fulfillment, but to share a special bonding time with you, making you feel adored and loved.

"Hyunjin, you make me feel so good," you mutter to him.

He picks up the pace and the skin-slapping sounds echoing in the room that he notices start to fill with bluish lights of the dawn.

"Hyunjin oh..."

Your hand tugging on his dark locks as a broken moan escape your mouth, "cum inside, fill me up!" You say.

His eyebrows knitted and a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, his body blushing red, blood rushing all over him at a high speed. He is determined to get you to your high.

He takes your hand and laces it with yours, his forehead presses on you with your warm breath fanning him.

"Hyunjin, please..." you say again with a quivering voice.

It's the way you call him that makes him feel like THAT man, that man who provides for you and fulfills all of your needs, while in reality, he's just a struggling artist who hasn't sold any paintings yet.

"Please, Hyunjin, give it to me!" You softly say right to his face with your eyes screwed shut as if you can't really take it anymore.

He thrusts into you harder, deeper with eyes boring into yours and hands holding yours so tight as if you will float away if he didn't.

"Please, please... Hyunjin!" You say again, making him feel like the only man who can give you that release you need.

You sink your mouth onto his shoulder to muffle your broken moans as waves of pleasure washing over your body, the pleasure intensifies as he keeps thrusting you past your climax.

Nothing gets him off knowing that he successfully makes you cum around him, your body writhing and fucked out underneath him.

He pushes one deep thrust into you to finally earn his high. This is his way of claiming you, by planting his seed deep inside you.

He won't pull out to make sure it stays inside you, kissing your face with his hands roaming on your body, touching you as much as he can.

"I love you," he whispers into your ear, saying it squeezing out all of his emotions to the point that his heart hurts.

As the three words registered in you, you hold his face in your hands and smile at him with such loving.

"I love you," you say back.

What's the best feeling in the world than having your feelings reciprocated?

-

He wakes up after a few hours of sleep, kisses you on your forehead, and cuddles you for a few minutes before he starts his day. He keeps the lights dim and the blinds shut so you can rest comfortably.

His routine is pretty much the same every day and that's doing the household chores. He cleans the house, does the laundry, prepares food, and does everything he can do to fill his part because it's obvious that you bring the most money to the table.

When all of the chores are done, he goes to his small studio by the balcony to start painting. Even all of his art supplies are bought with your hard-earned money, he knows that you voluntarily agreed to provide for him and never minded it. Deep down, Hyunjin has a guilty conscience for it.

But today, he feels exceptionally good, so he pushes all those negative thoughts away and he holds all that good feeling as he starts mixing paints on his palette, envisioning his ideas onto the blank canvas while at it.

He doesn't know how long he has been painting until you suddenly appear behind him, two mugs of steaming hot coffee in your hands.

His eyes glance at the clock through the window glass to see the time, "It's hardly 2 pm," he says to you because you usually wake up late in the afternoon.

You hand him his mug and put a hand around his neck to kiss the top of his head.

"You should sleep some more," he adds, kissing the skin on your forearm.

"Nope, I want to spend more time with you," you answer while looking into his half-finished painting.

He takes a sip of the coffee, feeling refreshed the more caffeine he takes into his body system.

"Let me prepare lunch for you!" He offers.

"I already ate lunch!" You reply and carefully sip your coffee.

There's a subtle frown on his face hearing your answer, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I can prepare my own lunch, I'm not a baby!" You tell him with a sassy eye-roll.

He puts his coffee mug away and puts a hand around your waist, "but you are my baby," he says with a pout.

You chuckle and sit on his lap, "that's true!"

"But I don't want to disturb you when you're painting," you explain, holding the hand he puts around your waist.

"You might be stuck on ideas again," you playfully remark.

He puts his other hand around you, hugging you close, "nonsense!" He disagrees with you, his mouth dives into the crook of your neck to kiss you there.

"You're my muse!"

You turn your head to let him kiss your lips, letting him take his mind off things for a little while. You're so used to him saying all those sweet words to you but that doesn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering around.

Slowly pulling away from the kiss, you say, "That's enough interruption."

With a peck on his lips, you get up from his lap and take your coffee mug with you.

"Where are you going?" He asks, his hands clasped with yours, not letting you leave him alone.

"I'm going to sit there and watch you paint, of course!" You gesture to the loveseat on one side of the room.

He nods with an endearing smile and his eyes form two crescent moons, "okay then."

He continues painting with you watching him from the corner of the room, drinking coffee while playing some music from the portable speaker.

He finishes an hour later and wipes his hands on a cloth before coming up to you for some cuddles on the small sofa with you, talking about things, or just enjoying each other's company while the sun is slowly sinking.

When it's time to cook for dinner, you leave for the bathroom for a quick shower while Hyunjin takes care of the cooking. While waiting for the soup to simmer, he comes to the bedroom to see you putting on your underwear in front of the mirror.

Gosh, you're so alluring, enchanting, one sight of your body and it's enough to make his mind go blank.

"Dinner is ready, princess!" He says with his mouth peppering your bare shoulders with kisses.

You giggle in response and turn around to face him, kissing him on the lips, "I'll be coming in a few minutes!"

You only have a limited time after dinner and he needs more if he wants to please you, he consoles himself by touching you more and kissing you deeply, making out at the end of the bed to last him for the night.

You have dinner together in the kitchen, sitting next to each other and talking in between spoonfuls of food.

"I'm taking a day off this Wednesday!" You inform him.

He brushes your hair to the side and puts it behind your ear, "do you have anything you want to do, baby?"

You pursed your lips while thinking, "Movies?"

"Okay," Hyunjin agrees without complaint.

"And pasta after?"

"Sounds good!" He comments with a sweet smile.

You're so so sweet to him. You provided for him but what you ask in return is simple: quality time with him. And he'll give you that and more, if you ask for his life, he would give it to you without a doubt. Heck, he'll do everything just to make you feel his love and prove his devotion to you.

That's how much he loves you.

Hyunjin's heart gets inexplicably heavy when he lets you go to work, he watches as you check your make-up with the help of the little mirror on the visor while the car is parked on the lot next to the place where you work at.

He takes your bag from the backseat and hands it to you, while you pull him by the neck to kiss him.

"Don't stay up late for me," you warn him.

"Not listening!" He teases you and kisses you to stop you from complaining.

"I'm serious!" You say to him with a glare.

"Okay."

You bet he's just saying it but not planning on doing it then roll your eyes at him, "I'll get going!"

"See you at home, sweet angel!" He says for the last time and insists on getting a peck on the lips from you before you close the car door.

"Relentless, aren't you?" You grumble but do it anyway, he knows you are prone to his charms.

He watches you walking across the parking lot before entering your workplace, where your love is no longer free.

-

A few days later, Hyunjin receives the good news that someone bought his painting. It's the first one he sold after a year of nothing.

He drives to meet his agent first to confirm the purchase and signs some paperwork. It's a big sum of money and it would take a day or two to transfer all the funds to his account.

But the first thing he wants to do is to share the news with you, it's a pity that he just dropped you off for work and you probably turned off your phone already.

But it's a good thing he knows just how to deliver the news to you.

He can hear the music blasting even before he enters the club, he knows he's underdressed and it gives the impression that he has not much money to spend in a place like this.

Yet the bouncer lets him in and a few girls notice his arrival, eyeing him and a few even offer their service to him. He tries not to make eye contact and goes straight to the bar, and orders a drink to loosen up a little.

It's still a little after midnight and the club is in full swing.

He orders another glass as soon as he finishes the first one, he hesitates to ask the bartender who is cleaning the countertop, and he gestures for him to come over so he can ask it privately.

"I want to ask for a specific.... for uh..." he pauses to find the right way to address the profession.

The bartender seems to get his intention without him needing to elaborate and calls someone else from across the room, a lady who dresses in provocative lingerie with long dark hair and blunt bangs, the make-up doesn't quite cover her ripe age but she seems authoritative, probably the one who manages of all the ladies working in the club.

"He's asking for someone!" The bartender informs her.

She smiles at him, a polite, professional one, "what can I help you, darling?"

He keeps his eyes at her eye level to avoid looking elsewhere and being disrespectful.

He fiddles with his glass, and hesitates to ask for it, "I'm looking for... Vesper?"

Vesper, a name you choose for yourself as a pseudonym. You chose it because Vesper means 'evening star' in Latin.

A smile appears on the lady's face, "Ah, I know a Vesper!"

Hyunjin let out an inaudible sigh and shyly smiles at her, reminding himself to not look elsewhere but at her face.

"Are you asking for a lap dance, sweetie?" She asks again, clearing his intention because no one knows that he's your boyfriend. You are restricted to share any information about your private life at work or anyone for that matter.

Hyunjin stifles a nod.

Looking at his adorable reaction, the lady can't help but smile, "You're a cute, handsome fellow, aren't you?"

Hyunjin feels like a schoolboy being praised by his favorite teacher in elementary school. Something about her makes him feel like a little boy.

"You can wait there by the booth while I'm getting your Vesper!" She says, pointing to the vacant booth at the corner of the club 

He drinks his drink and asks for another so he can have something with him while he waits. He sips his drink little by little, trying to act calm while in fact, he's very nervous.

A few girls pass by his booth and wave at him if not seductively smiling at him, he gives them a nod in response. He had never seen so much skin in one night until now.

"Is this the Vesper you're looking for?" The lady asks.

She returns with a girl with a blonde wig and slinky, sexy lingerie with black stockings on. There's so much skin exposed that he doesn't know where to look. The make-up you put on makes you look different and he almost can't recognize you until you recognize who he is, then smiles at him.

The only smile that no one knows better except him.

"Yes," he answers.

The lady taps your shoulder, then says one last thing to Hyunjin before leaving him alone with you, "Have fun, cutie!" 

He nods at her and mutters, "Thank you!"

You slowly walk toward him, not showing any signs of struggle to walk in those six inches heels, then stops right in front of him, "I heard you're looking for me?" You say, keeping a straight face even though he knows you are silently smiling under that professionalism mask.

He nods, he can't provide a verbal answer. Not when he looks at you in a different light and with a different personality.

"What's that?" You ask with your hand cupping your ear to hear him better, bending so low he can see your breasts hung inside your bra.

He quickly mutters an answer, "Yes."

One corner of your lips curled upward and he can see how much you enjoy seeing him stunned like this.

"You're asking for a lap dance?" You ask him with a sultry voice.

Hyunjin hurriedly gropes around his jacket pocket to pull out money for you, "Yes, please!"

You shake your head and take a step close, standing between his spreading legs, "Put it anywhere you like!"

He doesn't get what you said by that until he sees the other guy slipping money into the dancer's underwear.

He folds the money and slips it on the elastic band of your underwear, making sure it stays there before he lets go of it.

"Now, relax and enjoy!" You say, turning around to suddenly plop down on his lap, intentionally hard with your ass right on his crotch.

He softly grunts while you enjoy torturing him this way, rolling your body to the slow, sensual tempo of the music playing in the club.

"Is this your first time at a strip club?" You ask him, putting your hands on his knees and slowly lifting your ass, hovering above his crotch.

How can his brain works properly when your ass is making friction with his crotch, he closes his eyes to get himself together, "Yes."

"Why?" Rolling your hips in a clockwise direction.

"Uhm..." he almost loses it, "that's because I have a girlfriend."

"You can come to a strip club even though you have a girlfriend," you say, looking over your shoulder at him.

He shakes his head, "my girlfriend, she's uh... everything."

He pauses to take a sip of his drink to dull his senses a little, "she's beautiful, smart, and..." he takes a second to sigh while his eyes lust over your body, "sexy!"

"She's very lovely, very nice, anything I asked for in a girl. I'm a lucky man," he says all that while looking straight into your eyes.

You let out a low giggle, in contrast to the slow movements you make on his lap, "but then why are you here?"

"I'm celeb—" he pauses midsentence as you recline on his chest, rolling your body and hooking your hand around his neck.

"If your girlfriend is so great, why are you here?" You ask again.

Hyunjin swallows hard and his body responds to the urge of touching you, he places his hand on your stomach.

You immediately put his hand away and click your tongue at him, "Touching is not allowed!"

Hyunjin puts both of his hands away fast, resting them on his sides and letting you arouse his body even the visual alone already does the deed.

He struggles to retrace where he left the conversation and blurts out, "I'm celebrating something tonight."

"Yeah?"

He nods.

"What are you celebrating?" You ask, batting your eyelashes at him and jutting your ass up right in front of him, slowly shaking it.

Hyunjin has to work his brain twice as hard to come up with the simplest answer, "I sold one of my paintings just now."

He sees you pausing for a second before slumping down his body until you kneel on the floor.

You turn around to face him, your head between his legs and your hands resting on his thighs with your nails painted red, moving up then stopping so close to where he wants you to touch him the most.

It's like all the blood rushing there abruptly stops as well, he feels faint, drunk on your touch.

"Have you told her?" You ask with a sneaky smile.

He shakes his head.

"Will your girlfriend be jealous that I received the news first before her?"

He shakes his head again.

"She's the most understanding person I know, she provided for me the whole time I'm struggling as a painter so I'm sure she'll be okay with me celebrating it with a lap dance," He explains with a sly grin on his face, doing it so confidently.

You slap on his thighs and snap his senses awake once more.

"Well, you just sold a painting, you must have a lot more to share with me," you say.

Hyunjin feels stupid for not remembering it, he withdrew some money specifically for this but forget to tip you. He pulls out a few bills at once, folds them into a big wad, and slips it into the elastic band of your underwear on your left hip.

You get up from the floor, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders, and bring your mouth close to his ear, "For that, you deserve a special lap dance."

It's a newfound experience for him, one that unlocks a fantasy that he doesn't know he has until that very second you plop down his lap and start dancing in a piece of garment that leaves a little to the imagination.

It's a calculated look but the fact that he has seen you naked doesn't make him less attracted, if anything, it makes him so damn aroused he feels like shooting his load at any given time if he lets himself go. He so badly wants to take it off you piece by piece or fuck you in it, he can't decide yet. Fuck, he wants you so much.

And earning your love with money gives him a new kind of rush and a realization that he's indeed so lucky to have your unconditional love for free.

You move your hands down his chest as you slowly grind on him, teasing his confined cock despite knowing that it's growing hard under you.

Hyunjin's mouth has been open the whole time you stare down at him, in awe, falling under your spell.

Before he forgets about it again, he pulls a few bills out of his pocket, and this time he slips them inside your stocking.

"Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with you spending so much money on a lap dance?" You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He finishes his drink until the ice cube hits his lips and gasps, "Didn't you tell me to relax and enjoy?" He pokes fun at the remark you told him a second before you start the lap dance.

You tip your head to the side and smirk while he lays back on the vinyl seat, looking up at you as you give him the lap dance of his life.

Your hand creeps up his neck and holds him by the jaw, "that's right..." you say in an incredibly low voice but loud enough for him to hear.

"Just relax and enjoy!"

You start to touch yourself in front of him while your hips roll, grinding on him then lean in so close, leaving a few inches of space between your face and his, "I'll make sure you have the time of your life!"

And he's indeed having the best time of his life.

-

Hyunjin is the happiest whenever he sees you coming home.

Tonight is one that he has been waiting for, seeing you smiling so brightly at him knowing that he achieved something great with his art.

You drop your bag and dash towards him, he's more than ready to catch you, he lifts you while you wrap your legs around his dainty waist.

"I told you, I told you!" You keep saying to him with your hands around his neck.

You pull away just enough to look at his face and hold it with both hands, "I always believe in you," you say with a proud smile.

"Thank you for always believing in me," he sincerely says.

You run your thumb along his plush red lips before lowering yours on it, kissing him with so much love with your heart brimming with contentment.

He smiles as you break the kiss, your lips wet and red from the blood rushing to them.

"Let's go inside, I want to spoil you more," he says while looking up at you.

"You spoil me every day," you say, simply stating a fact.

He smiles with one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other, "and you deserve more," he adds.

He puts you down and collects your bag from the floor, a hand on your back guides you inside.

Despite your body still dripping wet from showering, he lays you down on the bed and makes sure your head hits the pillow just right.

He tenderly kisses you all over your face, then drags his mouth close to your ear to whisper, "just lay back and enjoy."

It's only fair if you do your part too, but it's also wise to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you which is pleasing you with whatever he has in him.

His soft lips, his beautiful long fingers, his hands, and his skillful mouth always know how to make you squirm under him.

But when it comes to his cock, you suddenly get so impatient for it.

He has been teasing at your entrance with the tip, making you drenched as you already are.

"Want it that bad?" He asks but not pathetically, but in the most empathetic way because he's just as impatient as you.

"So bad!" You shamelessly answer, you know your bluntness is kind of arousing to him.

"What my angel wants, she should get it, mmh?" He says.

He then aligns his cock with your hole and slowly pushes it in, he whimpers with his eyes watching his length disappear into you.

He seems to enjoy it more than you, entering you and claiming you as his.

Maybe because he had seen what it's like to see you doing your job, he needs the assurance that you are his and he feels the need to earn you to obtain it.

"My love..." he coos with his lips only an inch away from yours.

"My love..." you coo back at him, looping your hands around his neck.

He tenderly kisses you as if you would break if he kisses you too hard and your heart quivered at how he treats you like a fragile object, "I love you," he says with his heart quivering with all the feelings he tries to keep inside.

You put your hands around his neck, then cup his jaws, "I am so glad that I am yours," you tell him because it seems like he needs to hear it with your hand putting his hair away from curtaining his face.

"And I love you," you unequivocally say to him with all of your heart that it aches.

His worry replaces with the guilt of ever doubting your feelings for him, but on top of that, he feels the happiest to know that you are his.

He's indeed so lucky to have your love for free. 

-

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[missingn000]

a note about tpg's hiatus

hi everyone!! i've missed y'all <33 i want to share a quick note on tpg's hiatus, and how long it will last.

first and foremost, the tl;dr: i will not abandon tpg. the story remains incredibly important to me, and this hiatus is only that: a hiatus. i will return eventually, and while i am not exactly sure when "eventually" is, i hope to begin updating again soon.

now the long explanation. tpg's hiatus has lasted much, much longer than i expected. it wasn't until i took a break that i realized how mentally and emotionally drained i was after writing 600k+ in 2 years, along with being an engineering master's student then starting a job in aerospace. especially after writing sukuna's backstory (75k+ words in one month), my brain was utterly fried. all in all, it's been a lot.

as some of you may know, i started watching one piece in september. and i love it! it's an incredibly fun, well-written feel-good series. it's been a refreshing mental break to engage with a new series, especially since jjk canon has been so disappointing in both content and writing quality. 

if you check my ao3, you'll notice i took a break from jjk with other series in the past: namely dr. stone, sxf, and natsume yuujinchou. this is necessary for me to remain creative and explore narrative themes that i bring back to tpg when i return to it. but by the time my recent hiatus started, it had been well over a year since i engaged with any other series than jjk, and it was starting to take its toll on me. i'm almost caught up on one piece now, which means i'll be able to focus on tpg again soon.

when i return from tpg's hiatus, updates may be slower. releasing 15k+ word chapters every 2-4 weeks was incredibly mentally taxing and required much of my time and focus to constantly be on the story. it wasn't healthy, and other areas of my life were impacted negatively. it can be easy to forget that i'm a real person with real-life responsibilities writing this story in my spare time for free -- even i sometimes forgot this. 

another note on why taking a break has been so necessary is my mental health. when season 2 released and toji + satosugu was animated, the fandom exploded and tpg's readership drastically increased. while this meant an influx of amazing love and support, i also started to receive rude and hateful comments and messages.

don't get me wrong: not everyone has to like tpg. that's totally fine! but as a very sensitive person, receiving hate took a huge toll on my mental health and motivation, and i have needed time to recover from it. i've been doing better mentally lately, and have taken some measures to reduce unkind interactions. i'm working on becoming less sensitive in the meantime so i can handle it better if/when it happens again.

since i've been feeling guilty about not posting jjk content, i haven't been on tumblr quite as much, but i'm still around online on both discord and instagram. mutuals can request my priv @chiidoriii on IG, and my discord is @MissingN000 -- just shoot me a message with who you are when you request! i'll still post fic updates on both new stories as well as tpg content and previews on tumblr, so please stick around :)

thank you so much for your patience with me! i love you all so much, and truly appreciate your support. love, chi <333

[mirandyficlists]

Hi hi! I’d like to know what your Top 10 Holy Grail fics are? Like I’m talking about fics you would reccommend in a heart beat, fics that you feel are written extremely well that they feel like they should be published or something, fics that have really good pacing, right amount of fluff, angst, or smut. Or even ones that are just silly and fun. It would be cool to read some of your favs!

Hey Nonnie

First my standard answer to the top ten query...10!!! 10!!! You think i can narrow it down to 10!! LOLOLOL

Secondly, I'm flattered you want to know my preferences as a guide...but then that's what my spreadsheet is all about I guess. lol

Okay I did manage to keep myself to 30 fics and I will say I would live quite happily if the first 10 were all I was ever allowed to read for the ret of my life. Just saying. Heh

I've also included my reviews of each fic from my Spreadsheet of 2250+ Mirandy fics to explain my love for the fics.

If you want the fics that are no longer online just message me privately with your email and I'll send my zipped file of deleted Mirandy fics your way.

Happy Reading Nonnie

All the Breast

XVNot15

Top ten and why?

The Lady And Her Dragons by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738811/chapters/51860098

(WIP) OMG!!!!!!!!!!  So amazingly wonderful and magical and well just damned hot!  Full of myth and magic, Miranda and Cruella are real Dragons and Andy is their Lady. Magical machinations and battles ensue. The story is compelling and Bearblue controls the content of magical information absolutely beautifully, you're interest is captured, but you're not over whelmed with more information than what is required for the story she is telling.  Again it has to be said. OMG!!! I have now read this fic over 500 times…and I mean that! Have read it once a week and sometimes 2 or 3 times a week for more than a decade.

Truth and Measure by Telanu https://archiveofourown.org/works/779826/chapters/1468543

The downfall of my anti Mirandy life that dragged me kicking and cursing into the heart of the Mirandyverse. This is what I call a Simchat Torah story. Much like the holiday in which the last chapter of Torah is read and then the first chapter immediately afterward to start the cycle again. And that's just what I did with this one. Miranda discovers after the separation with Stephen that she is pregnant and as she copes with that Andy helps her and eventually Miranda proposes a mutually beneficial relationship...which Andy then proceeds to turn on its head almost immediately. Excellently written and adored the characterisations of both women.

It’s All Relative by Hawkbehere https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884348/chapters/13561771

OMFG!! This is an amazing story. Well written and excellently paced as well. Post Paris H/C piece where Miranda is shot and Andy runs to her side to help and care for her.. A very complex and interesting characterisation of both M and A. The hints at Sub/dom with true love and respect were pitched absolutely meltingly perfect And the passion of Miranda's need for Andy is mind blowing.

Small Favors Series  by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793701/chapters/6270377

Andy wins a press award and sees Miranda. They talk and Andy acknowledges her feelings to herself. Andy sends a lily as a thank you. Hot first kiss in the conference room at the Mirror. The girls are very supportive as the relationship develops. INTERLUDE - Hot late night quickie in Miranda's office.  BEAUTIFUL THINGS - sees the development  of the relationship through some early rough spots. They're outed by Miranda's PR firm. Loved the twins with their pudding balloon bombs. HERE TO STAY - GOOD FORTUNE –

Fur No Thanks I’d Rather Go Naked by Writtensword (Deleted but I have the fic and can send it.)

Ooooooooooo so totally wonderful this story read it 3 times one after the other. Miranda is magically turned into a Mink and only Andrea can hear her speak and she takes care of her as they try to undo the spell. The characterisation of Mink Miranda is sooooooooooooooo terrific I want more Mink tales. heh  Lovely denoument when Miranda turns back to her human form.

Like Andrea Series by Ginstan https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940092

Ooooooooooooooo romance, mystery, intrigue and damn fine writing! Loved this fic! Andy is alerted to the fact that Miranda needs help when Runway does an edition where every single model looks like her. She comes to Miranda's rescue and their relationship develops super fast and super beautifully..  And beautiful mini FOL crossover! heheh I adore the characterisations of a vulnerable Miranda and a very soft butch Andy.

A Failure to Communicate by thelastgoodname https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300144

Miranda decides to Marry Andy and is busy dictating the plans to Andy just one problem... She hasn't actually asked Andy out on a date yet or anything else.  Cue a very confused Andy and a backpeddling Miranda. Ohhh my aching sides!!!! This is just soooooooooooo funny and sooooo well written.It's just brilliant!

Admiration by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936337

Swooooooooooon!! Total romance and way HOT sex too! Miranda has a secret (not to us though) admirer who is leaving her daily gifts and notes. She becomes smitten and isn't quite sure until the big reveal.  Beautifully written and I loved it, but it ends rather abruptly.

The Brutal Truth by Redcharcoal (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

Wonderfully well written piece. Miranda claims to only want the Brutal truth and ends up having a bet with Andrea that she can't get an exclusive interview with a famous designer and the stakes are one day of absolute honesty for Andrea and one week for Miranda. Andy outs Stephen as a predator and Miranda fires her...but then she gets the exclusive interview with the Deuchamps and they become her friends.

Miranda’s Runway series by Jehc https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242412/chapters/2552452

Oh the joy of a well written and well crafted characterisation piece.  Love this 4 years post Paris piece with Andy having a daughter she has actually named Miranda but who she calls Mandy who is somehting of an artistic prodigy. Andy has written a series of amazingly successful books on fashion but remains anonymous until she trades her privacy to foil Irvs latest almost successful coups against Miranda.  Things follow on from there, when little Mandy meets Randa and they fall for each other as hard as Miranda falls for Andrea.  Amazing fic.

The Fall and the Landing & 90 Days to Glory by Brithna/Ash_Mountain https://archiveofourown.org/works/481161

Warning: Character Death. My God almighty what a powerful piece of writing! This is not fanfiction, this is life, this is the most skillful playing of all that it is to be human, fragile, and to hold friendship and love as the reward for the pain and challenge that those prizes intrinsically bring with them. Have tissues ready, and be prepared to read with your heart and know that love is the force that truly connects all life.

On a Tractor by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696331/chapters/26333922

OMG! Absolutely brilliantly written long post Paris piece. Andy lends up inheriting a farm which she decides to run and she becomes quite the nature photographer as well. Miranda wants her farm for a photoshoot and goes out to visit and things take their natural course. Bear's writing is incredibly fluid and tinglingly evocative. Love the characterisation of Andy in this one. A Simchat Torah - immediate re-reader.

Break it Down With Joy by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394080

A drabble that is sheer perfection. A and M are friends, Andy has declared her love but Miranda has stated that they will never have a physical relationship, Andy stays anyway, suffering the pain of incompleteness, until that moment of decision. Excellently written, and soooo poignant.

By Heart by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673044/chapters/5976851

Swooooooooooon, mushfest!! With lovely hot sexiness too. A H/C tale where Andy ends up with a broken leg on a ski weekend and Miranda cares for her in their cabin as they get snowed in for a couple of days and the heating fails heheh. But there is a fireplace and while 'keeping warm' one thing leads to another.

Basic Black by Beachbum https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045490

Brava BB, a lovely piece set post Paris. Nigel who has stayed friends with Andy decides to play matchmaker for the two women in his life. The description of Andy's suit was totally droolsome. And the love scene, wow, took my breath away. Loooooooooved the ending, god Miranda in nothing but a white dress shirt, but still so totally confident and in control of the situation. Yowsa!!

Disarming Athena by Politic X https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921940/chapters/26942895

Wonderful but sometimes distressing psychological exploration that occurs between Miranda and Andy. Many of the interactions take place in the elevator. Miranda appears to be torturing Andy with invitations and demands for her to touch her clothes but not her. Then she fires Andy and this behaviour continues as Andy works her notice.  Eventual happy ending.

Hidden Yet Bright by needled_ink https://archiveofourown.org/works/97340

Swoooooooooooooon, a beautiful and well written short of a developing friendship gently shifting into more but without strings. Loved the chartacterisations of both Andy and Miranda.

In Some Quite Casual Way by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/621060/chapters/1120824

Holy mother of mountains what a fic. From a request for a story that involved a character with wings. Miranda is a fallen angel of sorts and saves Andy when she falls out a skyscraper window. Declarations of love, and serious sweaty snugglebunnies followed by major storyline and escellent denouement. Gret writing, amazing story, just amazing.

Lost Treasures by Jazwriter  (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

  Wow! Andy works as a sales clerk and then a Window dresser in  a small boutique. Her window designs cpature Miranda's attention and fascination. She takes Andy under her wing and mutual attraction sparks. Great little fic.

Objects and Space by Stormashke https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126698

Absolutely Stunning!!!!  Compellingly written with just the right meter and timing. Wonderful internal dialogue from Miranda's pov in an established relationship. She travels through the different rooms of the house noting the evidence of Andy's presence that still bug her…but also noting their indications of Andy's space in her heart and the twins heart and the things she will live with in that space of love.

Rebellious Lock & When Locks Get Locked by Quiethearted http://ralst.com/RebelliousLock.HTM

Ohh soooooooo funny!!!! Miranda's hair has a mind of it's own and it's concentrating on one particular brunette. This is comic writing at it's best. I'm still chuckling.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee, sequel!  Woohoo, Miranda's hair has awakened an interest from Andy's hair and all is set for the clash of the tresses. Oh soooo wonderfully funny, I so hope this series continues, I want postcoital follicle frolics. Heheh

Sharp Relief by chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672990/chapters/5976701

AMAZING fic!!!!! Wow Andy gets a call reporting that Miranda has died in a car crash on her way to her weekend cabin. She goes into shock and faces the fact of how much she loved her. She helps with the twins and stays at the townhouse until there is another call that send her and the girls out into the night chasing a hope agaisnt hope.  So amazing this.

The Lily and the Crown by Telanu (now published) https://archiveofourown.org/works/750438/chapters/1400746

Andren is the reclusive daughter of one of the Empires most capable Station Masters. Assistant - her new slave is the dread space Pirate Queen Mir. Seduction, debauchery, abandonment and redemption in this Space Swashbuckler.Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Gaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwdddddddddd!!!!!!!!!  Wow!!!! Fluids!!!!!!! This is just soooooooooooo wonderfully hot and romantic and hot and well good god I loved it. Okay, perhaps the Andren character was a little bit tooo clueless, but perhaps wonderfully evocative of another time. Still it was a great story and really interesting.

Unexpected Grace by Silverie https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9092005/1/Unexpected-Grace

Amazingly well written fic starting with amazing dream sequances of ancient days and a Goddess/priestess Miranda, perfectly mirrored in a waking world of events. Andy expands her life into music when she comes to own a beautiful guitar decorated with a dragon...linking to her desire for a certain dragon lady.  Lyrically written. Brilliant!!!!

A not exactly storybook romance by writetherest https://archiveofourown.org/works/923207/chapters/1793725

An AU where Andy is independently wealthy and owns a book store which Cassidy starts to visit daily as Andy befriends her. Eventually Miranda and she meet and after a bad decision it's a wonderfully sweet love story. Absolutely wonderful romance done here, adore the shier sweeter Andy.

Farsighted by emeraldorchids https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129537/chapters/14047437

Excellent mid length piece. All from Miranda's pov, chronicling how she and Andrea slip into a wonderful and easy friendship after Paris, that several months later morphs into more. What I love is the realness of Miranda in this fic as a full fledged human being all balance and counter balance with strengths and weaknesses.  And I enjoyed the reality check and stunned Miranda after Andy kisses her. As well as the gradual exploration afterward. The upshot with the page six comment picture in bed is a perfect ending.

Four Corners by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039309/chapters/2073686

Truth be told, this is a ten star effort. I looooved it! A phenomonally wonderful piece, well written and amazingly characterised. All told from Cassidy's pov as she lives her parents divorce, the advent and demise of Stephen and the new and wonderful inclusion of Andy in her mother's and the twins lives.

Caught Between the Moon and New York City Series  by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/series/1027544

Brilliant story of Miranda as a werewolf and pack leadercaptured by a secret research facility that captures and studies paranormal creatures where Andy works.  Grat adventure unfolds as they escape and Andy's true nature is discovered. Excellently written and intriguing backstory.

After Dark by LiteraryAssasin https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560673/chapters/48807857

A wonderfully characterised slow burn, friends to lovers fic. Well written and engaging of course, from an excellent bard. Andy grows a backbone in the best and most proactive way…almost swapping some of her softness for some of Miranda’s firmness so that they can both balance themselves and each other. I adored Miranda’s oh so careful way of helping Andy while trying also not to overwhelm her with that help.  A nifty little sub pairing of a mirrored couple is so seamlessly done it’s just amazing.  Also touches on an idea I’ve had for quite some time…may have to dust that one off.

If and When by Kamuraskan https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821418/chapters/29271045

WOOT!!! No greater love hath a Bard for another Bard than to make an offering in a completely unfamiliar fandom. (Thanks Gin.) Most wonderfully well written and amazing Disaster/survival fic. Andy uncovers a terrorist plot to blow up the EC building the night the VP is attending a party there. She isn't believed by Homeland security so she approaches the new CEO of EC...Miranda they manage to evacuate the building but are still on the 20th floor when the bombs go off....suspense, love and amazingness commence.

[heli-writes]

Seven summers, part 6.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?

Disclaimers: Make-out session, allusion to sex, no full-on smut (they're still minors, y'all!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, July.

The weather in England has been cold and rainy lately. It doesn't seem to be July at all. Y/n longs for those warm, long summer nights outside in her parents' garden, playing cards and drinking bubbly lemonade. Instead, she's clinging to her umbrella and making herself as small as possible so that she doesn't give the wind too much space to attack her with its whipping water. She's waiting for Draco near the entrance of Diagon Alley. She watched several wizards enter and leave the place, but no Draco so far. Y/n wonders if he will actually show up. They've been exchanging letters via owl, as usual. At the beginning of the school year, Draco's letters have been arriving quite frequently but there were less and less letters the last few months. Y/n knows there's been some arguments with his rival Harry and a new teacher. Draco was appointed a certain position in a Club or something. He didn't really tell her what's it about but ever since he's been more reserved than before.

Y/n waits for almost an hour before she gives up. She walks through the pouring rain back to the bus stop. She stops by a Costa and treats herself to a hot cup of tea on the go in an attempt to warm herself up. On the bus, she plugs in her headphones and stares out of the window. She tries really hard not to cry and hopes that none of the other passengers notice th water dwelling in her eyes. When she gets off the bus, her head's pounding from the oppressing of tears. Y/n walks straight home and up to her room, without taking off her jacket and boots. She can hear her mother complaining about the water on the floor, but she doesn't care. She's just dropped onto her bed when she hears the soft clank of Draco's owl on her window. Y/n gets up and sniffs. This guy has some nerve, she tells herself as she walks up to the window. She takes the letter from the owl and throws some dried meat in its direction, a habit she picked up a while ago. She leans back on a chair and reads.

Dear y/n,

I won't be able to make it today. I'm really sorry but there have been some issues in my family recently and my mother needs my support. I hope the whole situation dissolves itself soon.

I'll send you a letter when it's possible to meet again. I hope you can understand.

Draco.

Y/n folds up the letter and puts it in a box beneath her bed where she keeps all of Draco's letters. She writes a quick response and hands it to the owl who is patiently waiting outside. She watches the owl fly away. I must've just missed his message, y/n thinks. Yet still she can't shake the feeling that something is off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco lets y/n wait for two weeks. Y/n got antsy with every passing day without hearing from him. Eventually, he sends her a letter and proposes a meeting in Windsor Great Park for a stroll and coffee. Y/n is nervous all morning and has to redo her makeup twice after ruining her eyeliner. Again, y/n is the first to arrive. She walks up and down the entrance of the Savill Garden.

"Hey", she suddenly hears behind her. Draco is standing right next to her with a loopy grin on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes, y/n thinks. She smiles at him nonetheless and opens her arms to hug him. Almost hesitantly, Draco hugs her back. It's a bit awkward. "Do you want to go inside?", y/n says and points to the garden. Draco nods. They take the tourist route but there aren't many other people around. It's probably because of the grey clouds that hang low above their heads. They walk along the path between rows of bushes and other plants.

Draco doesn't make an attempt to start a conversation, so y/n does. "So, how's your family? Everything alright? Your letter sounded quite serious.", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs and doesn't answer immediately. "I guess, we're alright. Things haven't been resolved but it will be ok.", he tells her. Y/n nods reassuringly but she feels that Draco does not really believe that last part. "If you don't mind me asking... what happened?", she asks carefully. Draco kicks a stone out of his way. "My dad has been involved in some stuff. He's temporarily contained.", he tells her. Y/n stares at him with big eyes. "Like jail?", she blurts. Draco gives her an angry look. "Yes. My mother did not take it too well.", he replies. "Oh.", is all that y/n manages to say. They walk in silence for a moment. "What about you? How do you take it?", she asks him. Draco shrugs again and does his best to look somewhere far ahead. "Draco...", y/n mumbles and touches his arm. "I'm fine.", he says harshly, "My mother needs all the support she can get. I can't be weak in a situation like this". Y/n steps a bit closer to him and rests her cheek on his arm while taking his hand. "It's not a weakness to feel bad about a situation like that. It only shows how much you care about your parents.", she tells him. Almost instantly, she can feel Draco's shoulders slump down. He turns to her and finally pulls her close. He hides his face in her hair. "I must do everything I can to clear my family's name. One way or another.", he points out. Y/n thinks about this for a moment. "It's not your responsibility. Support your family as much as you can, but don't let the weight of it pull you down.", she replies. Draco shakes his head. "You don't understand... my mother...", he starts. "...is an adult. We're only sixteen, Draco. There's only so much we can do. Somethings we must let the adults handle.", she points out. Draco shakes his head again. "No, my mother can't handle this. I'm the one who has to fix things. I've been chosen.", he tells her. Y/n frowns. "Chosen? By whom? For what?", she asks him. Draco lets go of her. "It doesn't matter. The point is I'm going to handle this. Don't worry.", he says coldly. Draco walks a bit ahead and y/n stares after him. She's got a really bad feeling about this but it's clear that Draco isn't ready to talk about this.

She jogs after him. "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. We haven't seen each other since Christmas and I really am happy we're spending time together today.", she announces and gives him a bright smile. She holds out her hand to Draco and looks at him expectantly. Draco sighs and then takes her hand. They continue their stroll and y/n tries to distract Draco with silly stories about school and her friends. She updates him on Olivia's situationship and manages to pry some stories about Blaze and quidditch out of Draco. The atmosphere loosens up a bit and soon she finds Draco genuinely smiling again. They wander deeper into the garden and don't notice how the clouds above them get darker and darker. They're laughing about one of y/n's stories when the first drop landed on y/n's cheek. Draco wipes it away carefully. They look up and notice how armageddon is right above them. Within seconds, it's pouring. Draco pulls her close and uses his wand as an umbrella. However, the wind whips raindrops onto their sides. They rush along the path, deeper into the rows of trees ahead of them. They're almost soaked when they finally find shelter in a stone pavilion.

Y/n is shivering but glad there are still some parts of her that are dry. Draco sits down next to her and puts an arm around her. Y/n nuzzles closer into his side. Draco leans his head against hers. They don't speak and when y/n finally looks up, she immediately meets Draco's gaze. He must've been staring at her for a while now. Immediately, he leans close and they meet in a kiss. For a moment, everything outside the pavilion seems to stop existing. Y/n kisses him back feverishly and grabs his collar. Draco's hand is tangled in her hair and his other hand wanders down her side. Y/n presses her upper body closer to his and Draco pulls her onto his lap. They kiss until they can't breathe anymore. Y/n leans her forehead against his as both of them catch their breath. There are no sounds besides the pouring rain outside.

"Draco?", y/n breathes. "Hm?", he mumbles in response. Y/n's heart leaps in her chest. It takes all her courage to say: "I think I love you". Draco leans back and looks at her with surprise in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't expect a confession of love. Immediately, y/n feels embarrassed. She wishes she could take the words back. "Y-you don't have to say it back. I just thought...", she rumbles but doesn't get to finish her sentence. Draco puts his hand onto the back of her head and pulls her lips against his again. He gives her a deep, longing kiss which leaves y/n breathless once again. When he lets go of her, he looks at her longingly and strokes over her cheek. Then he presses a kiss on top of her head and pulls her into a hug. Y/n feels warm and fuzzy inside and she almost forgets that Draco did not return the confession.

They stay in the pavilion until the heavy rain fades into a soft summer drizzle. Only then, they start wandering back to the entrance of the garden. They part ways rather quickly since the rain started again after some point. However, y/n proposes that he should come visit her soon. Her parents will be visiting her grandparents all the way up in Keswick and will be gone for a couple of days. They put y/n under house arrest for the time being (considering what happened last year), but allowed to have a friend over. They probably thought about Olivia but when y/n asked her, Olivia immediately declined saying that y/n simply must invite Draco. Draco is a bit hesitant to accept the invitation and says that he will have to see how things at home. They both decide to write soon.

On her way back to the train station, y/n has mixed feelings. On one hand she's over the moon about meeting Draco finally again, on the other hand, she's also worried about him. Having a father in jail is already troubling but it sounded as if Draco was ready to do anything to fix that. She wonders if that included more than giving a testimony in front of a court. One way or another, he said. She hopes Draco is smart enough to not do anything stupid, or illegal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, a few weeks later.

Anxious. That's how y/n feels as she waits for Draco at King's Cross. Y/n and Draco have been writing back and forth for the last couple of weeks. Draco's been really quiet about his father's situation and y/n didn't push too much. However, whenever y/n brought up Draco coming over, he kept saying it probably wouldn't be possible and that too many things were going on. Which clearly indicates that things haven't been resolved. Surprisingly, Draco sent her a letter a few days ago saying that meeting her would be possible after all. Apparently, his mother and his aunt visit a family friend, giving him a chance to slip away. When y/n got Draco's letter saying that he would be visiting after all, she immediately called Olivia who immediately rushed over. Giggling, they wrote lists and prepared the house for what y/n's parents assumed was a sleepover. It also leads to her parents being quite relaxed about leaving y/n alone for a few days.

Right now, y/n is waiting for Draco to arrive at King's Cross. Obviously, Draco does not take a muggle train. He arrives via floo powder somewhere close but they agreed to meet at the station from where y/n would take him home. Y/n nervously scans the crowd in front of her. Suddenly, she feels a tap on her shoulder. "Hey, there pretty girl.", she hears Draco say behind her. When she twirls around, he is mere inches from her face. "Draco!", she laughs and throws her arms around him. Draco almost drops his bag while trying to keep his balance. Y/n quickly retreats. "Sorry!", she says. Draco puts down his bag. "That's alright.", he tells her and pulls her close by her arms. He hugs her close and hides his face in her hair. Y/n's heart skips a beat. When he lets go of her, he looks over his shoulder nervously. Distractedly, he says: "So, uh... is your house close by?". Y/n tries to see what's behind him or what he's looking for but when he turns back to her, she gives him a bright smile. "We'll have to take the bus.", she tells him and takes his hand. Draco sighs behind her. "You don't happen to have a fireplace, do you?", he mumbles. Y/n laughs. "No, sorry! We have central heating.", she says as she pulls him along with him.

While Draco feels visibly nervous in the station, he relaxes once y/n and him have entered the bus. When y/n asks him why, he tells her that there are probably no wizards here who could see them. Y/n nods understandingly. It's a short walk from the bus station to y/n's house. Her house is one of these terraced houses with white, wooden windows and a small front garden. It's nothing special really but her parents had to save up for it for quite some time and they're really proud to call themselves 'homeowners'. Y/n thinks it's a bit ridiculous but then again she's never bought a house and doesn't even know how much it would cost. Y/n pulls out her keys and opens the door.

She holds the door for Draco. "Ladies first. You can put your shoes over there.", she tells him as she quickly pushes him inside. Ever since they made a turn into y/n's street, she's been the one looking over her shoulder. Can't have the neighbours see her sneaking a boy in. She's pretty sure that the nosy old lady from across the street would just love to tell her parents all about that. Y/n quickly closes the door behind her and pulls off her jacket. Draco is standing in the hallway looking around and feeling a bit out of place. Y/n points past him. "Go on, straight through that door. There's the kitchen", she tells him. They enter the kitchen together and y/n quickly puts the kettle on. "C'mon.", she tells him and leads him to the room to the right. It's the living room which has a small conservatory attached to it. It's her mother's favorite room since it's always bright and open. In the middle, there's a large couch with pillows and blankets. On the left is the telly and a coffee table. "It's cozy", Draco notes as y/n leads him to the coach. "Sit down. I'll make the tea.", she tells him as she rushes off back to the kitchen.

She prepares a tray with tea, mugs and some biscuits. When she enters the living room again, Draco still sits in the same position as she left him. I guess he feels a bit awkward, she concludes. After she pours him a cup of tea, she asks him: "So, what do you think? Is this how you imagined muggles to live like?". Draco laughs and rubs his head in embarrassment. "Actually, I'm not sure what I expected. But it's really nice. I like this room.", he says and points to the conservatory. Y/n pulls one of her legs under the other and takes her tea cup. "Hm, you really had no image in your head how I live like?", she asks. Draco shakes his head. "How do you imagine I live like then?", he replies. Y/n thinks about that for a moment. "I guess I imagine a big house, maybe a villa. An old one, maybe Victorian? I imagine a big staircase right when you enter. Old, but classic and high-quality furniture.", she explains. Draco looks at her surprised. "That's actually not that far off.", he tells her. "I can't imagine your room though. I feel like I can imagine your dorm room better than your room at home.", she says. Draco takes a sip from his tea. "Do you want me to describe it?", he asks her. Y/n nods excitedly. He crooks his head. "Let's see. My room is upstairs, in the East Wing. It has a window facing the East as well so that I can see the sunrise every morning. My walls are painted in a greyish-blue. My furniture is black. When you enter the room, you're standing in front of my bed. Opposite the bed is the window and in front of it is my desk. To the left of the desk, is my wardrobe which is always messy and to the right are some shelves with books.", he describes. Y/n tries to imagine the room. In her head, the room is kind of empty besides the furniture Draco described. "Is there anything else in the room?", she asks. Draco names some quidditch equipment and some other tokens that y/n has trouble imagining. Draco tried to explain quidditch to her one time but y/n fails to truly understand the game. Probably, because she's never seen a person riding a broom.

"Would you like to see my room?", y/n proposes and Draco nods. They walk back to the hallway and up the stairs that are on the left. "My room is all the way up, beneath the roof.", she tells him as they climb up the stairs. Y/n's room is the only room on the last floor. When she opens the room, there's her bed to the left and behind the door is her closet. Right in front of the door are three windows. In front of the middle one, is her desk. On the left is a little reading niche and on the right is a dressing table and a cupboard. A chain of lights is strung from one side of the room towards another. Y/n makes some space for Draco to enter. He looks around the room in silence. "So, what do you think?", she asks. "It suits you. I don't know how I'd imagine your room but this fits you perfectly.", he tells her. Y/n giggles and drops onto her bed. "You think so?", she says. Draco nods and turns around in her room before joining her on the bed. Y/n thinks the sight of him in her room is a bit strange. Like he doesn't quite fit into it. He's dressed in black (like always) and her room is dominated by beige and pastel tones. "Yeah, it's bright and warm. And girly. And cozy.", he replies. Y/n snuggles up to him. "You like it?", she asks him. Draco pulls her closer to him. "Yes. Actually, I like your whole house. Everything is very home-ly.", he murmurs and kisses the top of her head. He pulls her back and they fall on top of the comforter of y/n's bed. Draco turns to his side, pulling her closer to him. Y/n takes in his scent and puts her head on his chest, just beneath his head. Draco's hand finds its way into y/n's hair and he scratches the skin of her skull a bit. Y/n feels how the three magical words lay heavy on her tongue again, begging her to speak them out loud once more. She swallows them down quickly, however. She doesn't want to make a fool out of herself once again.

They lay there for a while and y/n is not sure whether or not she may have dozed off a bit. The room's colour faded to grey indicating that the sun was about to go down. Draco stretches next to her and sits up. "Are you hungry?", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs but y/n knows him well enough that that means yes. They end up ordering pizza and watching y/n's favourite movie. Setting up the telly, Draco is fascinated by the technology and asks a bunch of questions about how it works without magic which y/n definitely can't answer. She lets Draco choose a movie afterwards and they spend the evening rotting on the couch. Eventually, the titles roll and y/n sits up stretching. She peeks over to Draco whose eyes are closed. Did he really fall asleep?, she thinks and pokes his cheek. He wrinkles his nose and opens an eye. "Sleepy? Wanna settle for the night?", y/n asks and Draco yawns and nods. They get up and climb up the stairs to y/n's room. After brushing their teeth, they climb into y/n's bed and Draco pulls her close. Y/n leans her head against his and lets her hand rest on his chest. Draco gently strokes over her back and places soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks and her nose. Y/n crooks her head and meets him in a soft kiss. It's slow and sweet. Draco puts his hand into her hair and pulls her face closer to him, deepening the kiss. Y/n's heart starts beating faster. They kiss like this for a bit until Draco rolls her over so that y/n lays flat on her back. Draco hovers over her while continuing to kiss her. Y/n puts her hands behind his neck and one of Draco's hands runs up and down her sides. Y/n feels goosebumps forming all over her body. Draco's hand finds the hem of her shirt. His fingers dip under it, softly circling the skin of her hip. He leans his head back for a moment. "Is this okay with you?", he asks. Y/n nods breathlessly, not trusting her voice to say yes. She's expected it to happen tonight. Hell, she kinda hoped it would. Draco pushes his hand under her shirt exploring the warm, naked skin underneath it. Y/n lets her hands run down his back and pulls his shirt up a bit. Draco sits up for a moment and pulls it over his head. Y/n stares up at him in awe. He looks even more pale than usual with the moonlight hitting his skin the way it does at this moment. She sits up a bit and runs her hand down his chest. Draco gently pulls on the neckline of her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off as well. Y/n swallows. She's nervous. "We don't-", Draco starts but y/n cuts him off by pulling her shirt off as well. Draco doesn't say or do anything for a few seconds. Then he slowly traces a line from her shoulder over her collarbone down to her chest. He leans forward again, kissing her deeply while finally cupping her chest with his hand. Y/n lets herself fall back on the pillow.

She won't worry about anything tonight. Not about her parents or Draco's parents. About whether or not a wizard and a muggle can be together. By the time Draco's hands wander down to her pants, she has forgotten about most of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[sheriffaxolotl]

Fallen: A Path to Redemption (Chapter 6) Alastor x Reader

"Solace, you say? Well, my dear fallen friend, in Hell, solace comes with a price."

“What kind?”

“How about... your soul, my dear.” Word count: 9508 ✿ Friends to Lovers ✿ Slow Burn ✿ Eventual Romance ✿ Drabble | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

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Angel Dust had been observing you for about ten minutes now as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, muttering to yourself and occasionally pausing to take a sip from the coffee cup in your hand. He noted how tightly you clutched your phone, the screen lighting up with notifications every few minutes, causing your brows to furrow with increasing anxiety.

"Hey there, tots," Angel finally spoke up, taking a casual sip from his own coffee cup as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching your restless movements. He saw you slam down your coffee cup and phone with a loud 'bam!'.

"Everything alright?" he inquired, a hint of concern laced in his tone.

"Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" You replied, attempting to sound composed but failing to hide the edge of panic in your voice. Angel observed as you grabbed a cloth and began to vigorously clean the coffee machine, your eyes scanning every surface with intense focus.

As you scrub away at the machine, Angel can't help but notice the tension radiating from you, the air thick with an unspoken sense of unease. He shifted slightly, crossing his arms as he contemplated whether to push further or leave you to your thoughts. After a moment of silence, he decided to speak up again.

"You seem a bit... on edge, tots," Angel remarked, his voice gentle but probing. "Anything you wanna talk about?" he offered, hoping to provide some comfort or distraction from whatever was clearly bothering you.

You paused in your frenzied cleaning, the cloth clutched tightly in your hand as you considered Angel's offer. Part of you wanted to confide in him, to release the burden weighing heavily on your shoulders, but another part hesitated, fearing judgment or misunderstanding.

"I..." you began, your voice faltering slightly as you searched for the right words. "It's just... someone from my past has been messaging me, and it's... it's been bringing up a lot of old memories and emotions," you admitted, your tone laced with vulnerability.

Angel's expression softened, a sympathetic understanding in his eyes as he listened intently to your words. "Ah, sweetheart, I get it," he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Sometimes the past has a nasty way of catching up with us, huh?"

You nodded, appreciating his understanding, though the turmoil within you still churned relentlessly. "Yeah, it's just... I thought I'd moved past all of that, but now it feels like I'm right back where I started," you admitted, a sigh of frustration escaping your lips.

Angel's hand landed gently on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. "You're not going through this alone," he said, his voice a comforting presence amidst the storm. "I've been in similar shoes, you know. If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you…”.

You let his words sink in, feeling a glimmer of relief wash over you at the reminder that you weren't alone. "Thank you, Angel," you said softly. It was a relief to know that someone was willing to listen and offer support without judgment.

"... I'll have you know, I'm technically a lot older than you," you teased with a gentle nudge of your elbow into his side, a genuine smile gracing your lips, albeit slightly strained.

As Angel's comforting presence enveloped you, you found yourself drawn to the warmth of his support, grateful for his unwavering understanding. The weight of your turmoil felt a little lighter in his company as if his mere presence had the power to ease the burden on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I bet you've got a few centuries on me, huh?" Angel quipped, a playful twinkle in his eye as he teased you, his attempt at levity a welcome distraction from the gravity of the situation.

You chuckled softly at his remark, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly. "Maybe just a couple," you replied, allowing yourself to be swept up in the momentary reprieve from the intensity of your emotions. “But you’re the one giving off the vibe of old man wisdom,” you teased back.

Angel chuckled at your playful jab, rolling his eyes in mock indignation. "Oh, please, darlin'. Old man wisdom? More like timeless charm," he retorted with a playful wink, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky response, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as his playful banter lifted your spirits. "Well, I suppose that charm must be what's keeping you young at heart," you quipped back, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

He grinned in response, leaning casually against the counter with an air of confidence. "You know it," he replied with a wink, his tone dripping with playful sass.

The two of you stood in companionable silence for a moment, the gentle hum of the kitchen filling the air as you leaned against the counter, finding solace in each other's presence. It was moments like these that reminded you of the importance of friendship, of having someone to lean on during life's more challenging moments.

"Thanks, Angel," you said again, this time with a touch of sincerity that conveyed the depth of your gratitude. "I really appreciate it."

Angel offered you a warm smile in return, his expression filled with genuine warmth and understanding. "Anytime, darlin’," he replied, his voice soft but unwavering. "You know where to find me if you ever need anything."

You offer him a weak smile before a familiar buzz in your pocket interrupts the moment. With a resigned sigh, you retrieve your phone and begin reading the messages flooding your screen:

"Y/N, just answer the question already."

"You're just as pathetic as him! Hiding away! YOU PATHETIC BI-"

"You think you could hide all this time and not expect-"

Your heart sinks as you read through the relentless onslaught of messages. Each one feels like a dagger to your heart, fueling the flames of anxiety and fear that already consume you. With a heavy sigh, you set your phone down on the counter, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of hateful messages that have accumulated, now reaching over 200. The weight of it all threatens to crush you as you contemplate the relentless barrage of harassment you've endured, wondering when it will all finally come to an end.

Angel noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor and leaned closer, peeking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of the barrage of messages flooding your screen. His expression shifted from concern to outright indignation as he read through the messages, his jaw clenching with anger.

"What the hell is this?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief and anger as he reached out to gently take your phone from your hand. Without waiting for your response, he scrolled through the messages, his brows furrowing deeper with each passing second.

You watched as his expression morphed from shock to anger, a fierce determination burning in his eyes. "This is unacceptable," he declared, his voice firm as he handed you back the phone. "You don't have to deal with this."

Angel paused as he saw the name of the sender was 'ignore,' and he raised a brow. 'Who the fuck is this? Who would send you this kind of stuff?'"

The anxiety peaked in your stomach at the idea of Angel finding out who was messaging you. He might tell someone, or you feared that he would tell Alastor. “It doesn’t matter who it is… I should just change my number... it’s worked before…” You mumbled, defeated.

Angel’s gaze softened as he observed your distress, his usual playful demeanor giving way to genuine concern. "Hey, don't let this jerk get to you," he said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You shouldn't have to hide or change your number because of some cowardly fucker hiding behind a screen."

Oh, if only he knew what kind of screen you were dealing with.

“I know, but it would work out for the better… Plus, I should try and see if I can change it to having it to a work phone anyway,” you said with a sigh.

Angel's brows furrowed in concern as he listened to you, his expression reflecting a mix of sympathy and determination. "I get where you're coming from, but changing your number shouldn't be your only option," he replied, his voice gentle but firm. "And a work phone? Come on, you don't need to resort to that just to escape this mess."

He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before continuing, "We'll figure this out together, alright? You don't have to deal with this alone." His words carried a comforting weight, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos of the situation.

You brought your hand up to your face, trying to steady your trembling breaths. ‘Don't cry, don't cry,’ you thought to yourself, willing the tears to stay at bay. After a few deep breaths, you managed to compose yourself and looked back at Angel.

"God, I feel like such a mess right now," you admitted, your voice wavering with emotion.

Angel's expression softened even further at your vulnerable admission. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his voice gentle as he reached out to comfort you. "We all have moments like this. You're not alone."

He offered you a warm smile, his eyes reflecting genuine understanding and empathy. "We're here for each other, remember?" he said reassuringly. "No matter what happens, I've got your back. You can lean on me." His words conveyed a sense of unwavering support, assuring you that you had a friend by your side to weather the storm.

But then, his playful side emerged as he continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Besides, I could use someone as modest as you to keep me in check,” he teased, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Heaven knows I need it.” His light-hearted tone was a welcome relief, offering a moment of levity amidst the turmoil.

As Angel's mischievous grin widened, his playful banter danced in the air like a gentle breeze, momentarily lifting the heavy weight of the situation. “Oh, trust me, heaven indeed knows,” you replied with a chuckle, leaning back against the counter as you exchanged teasing glances with him.

But then, his tone shifted, a hint of genuine concern creeping into his voice as he suggested, “Why don't you ask Charlie for a day off or something? Might be worthwhile to get some air that, well, isn't in here.” His gesture encompassed the entirety of the hotel, subtly hinting at the need for a change of scenery and a break from the chaos that seemed to permeate the air within its walls.

You hesitated at the suggestion, your mind swirling with conflicting thoughts like autumn leaves caught in a sudden gust of wind. On one hand, the allure of a day off was undeniable—a precious opportunity to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the hotel and find solace in the outside world. The thought of strolling through the bustling streets, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, and breathing in the crisp, hot hell air filled you with a sense of longing you couldn't quite shake.

But on the other hand, you couldn't shake off the guilt of burdening Charlie with unnecessary requests, especially when she was already juggling a myriad of responsibilities and challenges. The last thing you wanted was to add to her stress or cause any undue worry. Besides, you prided yourself on being a reliable and dependable member of the team, always willing to lend a hand whenever needed.

"I don't know, Angel," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you cast a wary glance around the kitchen. The familiar space suddenly felt claustrophobic and stifling. "I don't want to trouble Charlie with unnecessary requests, especially when things are already so chaotic around here." Despite your reservations, a small ember of longing flickered within you, yearning for the freedom and tranquility that awaited beyond the confines of the hotel's walls.

Angel leaned against the countertop, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of understanding and sympathy. "I get where you're coming from, but you gotta take care of yourself too, you know?" he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "Charlie's not gonna mind, trust me. Besides, a little break might do you some good. Clear your head, recharge your batteries, all that jazz."

His words resonated with you, stirring a sense of longing for the respite that only a day off could provide. Yet, the nagging sense of guilt still gnawed at your conscience, a constant reminder of your responsibilities and obligations to your friends and colleagues.

"But what if something happens while I'm gone?" you countered, your voice tinged with worry. "What if they need me here, and I'm not around to help?" The thought of abandoning your post, even temporarily, filled you with unease, as if you were neglecting your duty and leaving your friends vulnerable to whatever challenges may arise.

Angel flashed you a reassuring smile, his eyes warm and comforting. "Hey, we're a team, remember?" he said, his tone laced with confidence. "We've got each other's backs. If anything comes up, we'll handle it together. But right now, what you need is some time for yourself. Trust me, Charlie would want you to take care of yourself."

You mulled over his words, the internal struggle between duty and self-care waging war within your mind. In the end, however, the allure of a much-needed break proved too tempting to resist, and with a hesitant yet determined nod, you made up your mind.

"Alright, you're right," you conceded, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll talk to Charlie and see if I can take the day off. Thanks, Angel. I really appreciate it."

Angel leaned back, his expression casual yet confident. "Don't sweat it," he replied, a playful smirk gracing his lips. "I'll cover for you if anything comes up. Just go out there and enjoy yourself. You deserve it."

His sassy tone brought a chuckle to your lips, the tension of the moment dissipating as you found yourself unable to resist his infectious charm. "I owe you one," you said, genuine warmth infusing your words.

With a wink and a grin, Angel waved you off. "Don'y worry bout it," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Just promise me you'll have some fun out there, alright? And remember, if anyone gives you trouble, you can always call on the one and only Angel Dust for backup."

You couldn't help but laugh at his bold declaration, feeling a newfound sense of lightness and optimism wash over you. With a final nod of determination, you made your way to find Charlie, ready to ask for that much-needed day off since you started a few days ago. The whole interaction with Angel had managed to distract you from the troubling messages on your phone, if only for a fleeting moment.

You approached Charlie's office door with a gentle knock, the sound echoing softly in the hallway. However, instead of the usual bustling activity, you were met with the sudden crash of something hitting the floor and hushed whispers from within. Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind, but you held back, waiting patiently for Charlie's response.

"One moment!" Charlie's voice called out from behind the closed door, prompting you to resist the urge to barge in and check on her. Instead, you waited, your curiosity piqued by the unexpected commotion.

As you observed the scene before you, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips. The reason behind Charlie and Vaggie's flustered demeanor wasn't merely work-related; it seemed like something more personal was at play. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you couldn't help but find it amusing to think that they might have been stealing kisses or sharing secret glances during work hours.

"Oh..." you murmured softly, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks as you connected the dots. The secretive whispers and the nervous glances exchanged between them suddenly made perfect sense in that moment.

Realizing that you might have unintentionally stumbled upon a private moment, you quickly cleared your throat, trying to ease the tension. "Um, sorry if I interrupted anything important," you offered, a sheepish smile playing on your lips as you took a step back, giving them space.

“Oh! Oh! No, of course not! We were-!”

“Just discussing some ideas for the hotel!” Vaggie cut in before Charlie could say anything further. You raised a brow, your expression conveying disbelief, before deciding to steer the conversation back to what you needed right now.

The sunlight streaming through the office window cast a warm glow over the scene, highlighting the faint blush on Charlie's cheeks and the nervous fidgeting of Vaggie's hands. Their attempts to mask their flustered state were evident, but you couldn't help but notice the subtle glances they exchanged, laden with unspoken meaning.

“Charlie, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I took the day off?” you asked, feeling a nervous smile tug at your lips and a bit of shame creeping up your back. You didn’t want her to think you were lazy, but you also needed to figure out a way to deal with this Vox situation before it got out of hand.

Charlie's initial surprise at your request quickly morphed into understanding, her expression softening with empathy. "Of course, (Y/N)," she replied, her voice gentle. "Everyone needs a break now and then. Take all the time you need."

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for her understanding. "Thank you, Charlie," you murmured, offering her a small, appreciative smile. "I'll make sure to catch up on any missed work when I get back."<

As you turned to leave the office, you couldn't ignore the subtle exchange of glances between Charlie and Vaggie, their silent communication hinting at a shared understanding. Though their embarrassment was evident, you sensed it was more about being almost caught off guard than anything more serious.

Leaving their office behind, a newfound determination fueled your steps as you contemplated the impending confrontation with Vox. With a clear goal in mind, you exited the room, your mind buzzing with plans to address the situation head-on.

Entering your bedroom, you headed straight for your dresser, determined to find what you were looking for. After a brief search through the drawers, you exclaimed in triumph, holding up the small half-face mask you had been seeking. Perched atop the mask were two adorable rounded horns, adding a whimsical touch to the accessory.

This mask held a deeper significance for you. You had crafted it in a panic when Alastor first went missing, desperate to conceal your identity. It had served its purpose well over the years, allowing you to hide in plain sight without fear of discovery. With practiced ease, you secured the mask to your face, framing it with loose strands of hair before a sudden realization struck you.

"He knows how I wear my hair," you mused, staring at your reflection in the mirror. With a resigned sigh, you reached up and began to carefully undo your braid, allowing your hair to cascade over your shoulders and down your back. After a couple of gentle shakes, your hair fell naturally around your face, some strands draping over the horns of the mask, effectively concealing them within your locks.

Running your fingers along the edges of the mask, you marveled at how well it blended with your skin. You remembered the time spent adjusting it until it sat perfectly against your skin, mimicking the natural curves of your face. It had to look natural, seamless, as if it were a natural extension of yourself. Recollections flooded your mind, reminding you of the past two years when you had the luxury of avoiding the mask. It became a rare comfort, reserved for days when anxiety and doubt gnawed at your resolve, threatening to overwhelm you.

You vividly recalled the relief of shedding its weight, feeling the burden of secrecy lifted, if only temporarily. But today was different. Today, you wore it not out of habit, but out of necessity, as a shield against the relentless onslaught of messages from Vox.

With a heavy heart, you acknowledged the mask's return, a tangible reminder of the battles you fought and the secrets you harbored. As you prepared for the day ahead, you carefully selected a different outfit, ensuring that your suit, vest, and dress pants were returned to their hangers with precision to prevent any creases.

Opting for a pencil skirt paired with a silk forest green cape top, you took a moment to appreciate the elegance of your choice. It was a subtle yet stylish ensemble, exuding confidence and poise. And, true to your style, you completed the look with a pair of tasteful stockings, adding a touch of sophistication to the ensemble.

Having prepared your outfit to your liking, you drew in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the tasks ahead. Your primary objective for the day was to slip out of the hotel without drawing any unwanted attention, a feat that seemed achievable given the sparse population of guests and staff.

Satisfied with your appearance after a final check in the mirror, you gathered your belongings and made your way out of your bedroom, determined to execute your plan smoothly and efficiently.

As you descended the stairs, a sense of relief washed over you at the sight of the deserted hallways. "Well, this is going swimmingly well—" Your optimistic thought was abruptly interrupted when you locked eyes with Husk, who had halted in his task of clearing a glass behind the bar, his gaze fixed on you.

As you opened your mouth to explain, you watched as Husk raised a hand, or rather a paw, signaling for you to stop before you could speak. "I'm not even going to ask, missy," he said with a nonchalant tone, his expression indicating he wasn't particularly interested in hearing your explanation.

You nodded in understanding, appreciating Husk's laissez-faire attitude. "Thanks, Husk," you replied with a grateful smile, relieved that you didn't have to come up with an excuse or explanation for your unexpected appearance.

Husk offered you a half-hearted shrug before returning his attention to the glass he was cleaning, evidently unfazed by the interruption. With a small sigh of relief, you continued on your way, grateful that your impromptu exit from the hotel had gone unnoticed by most.

Walking the streets of hell with a sense of freedom was undeniably liberating, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort at the occasional vague comments thrown your way as you made your way toward your destination. It seemed that even in the underworld, gossip and curiosity were unavoidable, leaving you to navigate through the maze of streets with a cautious eye and a wary mind.

But all caution and wariness melted away as you finally reached your destination: Cannibal Town. Hastening your pace, you navigated through the bustling streets, your focus solely on finding a certain someone amidst the chaos. As you approached the familiar doorway, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, tugging at your heartstrings.

"(Y/N)?" The unmistakable sound of a familiar voice startled you, causing your hand to freeze mid-air, just before you could knock on the door. Whirling around, you were met with the welcoming sight of Rosie. Her bright smile and warm gaze instantly eased the tension coiling in your chest.

"Rosie!" you exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you stepped closer to her. It had been far too long since you'd last seen each other, and her presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity amidst the chaos of Hell.

Rosie's smile widened as she enveloped you in a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you in a gesture of warmth and affection. "I can't believe it's really you," she said, pulling back slightly to look at you, her eyes filled with genuine joy. "It's been so long! What brings you to this side of the Pentagram?"

Before you could even reply, Rosie continued, her excitement palpable. "Oh my! Look at how your hair has grown! And is that some color in your cheeks? Oh my dear, you're getting a bit on the thin side." Her words flowed like a river, filled with concern and genuine affection, as she took in every detail of your appearance.

As Rosie continued to fuss over your appearance, you couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Her motherly concern was both endearing and comforting, reminding you of simpler times when the two of you would sit for hours, sharing stories and laughter.

"I've missed you too, Rosie," you replied, returning her hug warmly. "It's been too long since I've visited. I'm just here to catch up with old friends and maybe... deal with a few things," you added with a slight hesitation, not wanting to burden her with the details of your troubles.

Rosie nodded understandingly, her expression softening as she took in your words. "Well, you're always welcome here, dear. You know that," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth. "Now, come inside. I'll make you some tea and we can catch up properly." With a gentle hand on your back, she led you inside, the familiar warmth of her home enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

As you stepped inside Rosie's home, a sense of nostalgia washed over you, accompanied by the comforting scent of herbal tea and baked goods. The cozy interior was adorned with colorful tapestries and knick-knacks, each telling a story of its own.

You followed Rosie into the kitchen, taking a seat at the wooden table as she busied herself with preparing the tea. The sound of boiling water and clinking teacups filled the air, a soothing melody that calmed your racing thoughts.

As Rosie poured the steaming tea into delicate porcelain cups, she turned to you with a warm smile. "So, tell me everything that's been going on with you," she said, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "I want to hear all about your adventures since we last saw each other."

As Rosie gracefully moved about the kitchen, her vintage attire and elegant demeanor added to the charm of her surroundings. Her apron, adorned with intricate lace trimmings, seemed like a relic from another era, a testament to her appreciation for the finer things in life.

With a gentle flourish, Rosie set the tea tray on the table, the porcelain cups clinking softly against the saucers. The aroma of the freshly brewed tea filled the room, transporting you back to simpler times, where conversations flowed freely over cups of steaming beverages.

Taking a seat across from you, Rosie's eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity as she awaited your tales. Her demeanor exuded warmth and sophistication, making you feel right at home in her cozy abode.

As you sipped the fragrant tea with a heavy heart, you recounted the tale of how you had sought refuge in the radio station after Alastor's disappearance, finding solace in the familiar routines of broadcasting. You spoke of the uncertainty that lingered during his absence, the fear of the unknown weighing heavily on your shoulders. "It was a tumultuous time," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But being at the station gave me a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos."

Rosie nodded sympathetically, her vintage attire adding to the atmosphere of comfort and familiarity. "I can only imagine what you must have been through," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding.

But fate had a way of intervening, and when Alastor returned, everything changed. His presence brought an air of excitement and chaos, and before you knew it, you found yourself caught up in his grand plans for the Hazbin Hotel.

“But his return brought its own set of challenges," you added, a note of apprehension creeping into your tone. "Suddenly, I found myself swept up in his plans for the Hazbin Hotel."

Rosie listened intently, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern as you detailed your experiences. She nodded in understanding as you spoke of the challenges you faced working at the hotel, the constant balancing act between appeasing Alastor's demands and maintaining your own sense of self.

"It sounds like quite the ordeal," she remarked, her voice laced with empathy.

Despite the hardships, you couldn't deny the sense of purpose you found within the walls of the Hazbin Hotel. It was a place of redemption and second chances, a beacon of hope in the chaos of Hell itself.

"It's a place of redemption and second chances," you explained, a spark of determination igniting within you. "And I'm grateful to be a part of it, despite the challenges. Plus, Charlie really wants it to work out and she is so energetic and it's just infectious."

"Ah, yes," Rosie interjected, a knowing glint in her eye as she observed your reaction to the topic of redemption. "You've always had a fascination with that, haven't you, dear?"

You nodded eagerly, the passion evident in your voice as you spoke. "Absolutely. There's something truly remarkable about the concept of redemption, the idea that even the most lost souls can find a path to salvation."

Rosie's curiosity piqued as she turned her attention to Alastor, her expression expectant. "And what does Alastor think about it?"

You hesitated, a hint of uncertainty flickering in your eyes. "Um... well, it's not something we agree on," you admitted reluctantly, the tension in the air palpable as you broached the topic of differing opinions with your enigmatic colleague.

The question hung in the air, lingering between you and Rosie like an unspoken challenge. You could feel her gaze probing, searching for answers in the depths of your eyes, and for a moment, you found yourself at a loss for words.

"What about your soul?" Rosie pressed on, her voice gentle but insistent as she waited for your response.

You shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, the weight of her question settling heavily upon you. "I... I haven't really thought about it," you admitted hesitantly, feeling a pang of guilt gnawing at your conscience. "When I first sold my soul, it crossed my mind a few times in the early years... but as time went on, and I grew closer to Alastor, I guess I just stopped thinking about it."

The admission hung in the air, the weight of your unspoken desires and doubts casting a shadow over the conversation. You couldn't help but wonder if reclaiming your soul was even possible at this point, or if you were destined to remain tethered to Alastor's whims for eternity.

"You should ask! You'd make a frightfully cute overlord!" Rosie exclaimed, her toothy grin conveying a mischievous enthusiasm for the notion.

The unexpected suggestion caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but blink in surprise at Rosie's lighthearted remark. Her toothy grin only added to the surrealness of the moment, and you found yourself momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond.

"A... cute overlord?" you echoed, the idea feeling both absurd and strangely enticing all at once. The notion of reclaiming your soul and forging your own path in Hell had never seemed like a viable option before, but Rosie's words planted a seed of possibility in your mind.

"I... I'll consider it," you finally replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you entertained the thought of a different future for yourself. "Thank you, Rosie. You always know how to lighten the mood."

Rosie's grin widened at your response, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Consider it carefully, dear," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere. "Life in Hell could certainly use a bit more whimsy, don't you think?" she remarked, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm. "Besides, who wouldn't want to see you ruling over the underworld with grace and charm?"

As Rosie's playful banter lifted your spirits, you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. However, just as quickly as the tension dissipated, a wave of anxiety surged in your stomach as your phone buzzed once more in your pocket.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "But... I do need help with something else," you confessed, your voice tinged with nervousness as you retrieved your phone and placed it on the table with a hesitant smile.

"Oh, I assure you, I'm utterly clueless when it comes to phones, sweetheart!" Rosie exclaimed with a touch of dramatic flair, her laughter filling the room as she dismissed any notion of being adept with digital technology.

You hesitated, reluctant to burden Rosie with your troubles, but the weight of the situation compelled you to seek her help. "It's not the phone I need help with, Rosie... It's who's messaging me on it," you confessed, sliding the phone across the table to her.

As Rosie scrolled through the messages, a range of emotions flitted across her face—confusion, anger, and shock evident in her expression. "Who sent these?" she inquired, her tone laced with concern.

"Vox," you replied solemnly, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders.

Rosie's expression shifted from concern to a steely determination as she processed the information. "Vox," she repeated, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "I should've known."

You watched as Rosie's eyes narrowed, her mind clearly working through possible courses of action. "This won't do. Not at all," she muttered to herself before turning her gaze back to you, her resolve evident. "We need to put a stop to this, darling. You can't let him continue to harass you like this."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for Rosie's unwavering support. "I don't know what to do," you admitted, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

Rosie reached out, placing a comforting hand on yours. "We'll figure it out together," she reassured you, her voice firm but reassuring. "But first, let's make sure he knows he can't mess with you anymore." With a determined glint in her eye, Rosie began to formulate a plan, With determination igniting her gaze, Rosie sought out the messaging app on your phone, her fingers deftly navigating the device.

"What are you doing?" you questioned, a note of panic creeping into your voice as you observed her actions.

"We should inform Alastor. He'll handle this with his usual flair," Rosie suggested, her intent clear in her tone.

"No!" You interjected, a surge of fear propelling you to snatch your phone away from her grasp. "We can't! We can't—"

"Why? What's wrong?" Rosie's concern was evident in her voice as she watched you with furrowed brows.

"I don't want Alastor to know. I don't want him to know," you confessed, your words rushed and laden with apprehension.

"Sweetheart, why? Alastor wouldn't care—" Rosie tried to reassure you, but you interrupted her with a pained expression.

"I don't want Vox to tell him anything—" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What could Vox tell him?" Rosie's inquiry hung in the air, her expression reflecting a mix of confusion and concern.

You paused, the weight of your words sinking in as you realized you might have said too much. Panic surged within you, your mind racing to backtrack and contain the information you had inadvertently revealed.

"I, um, I..." You stumbled over your words, struggling to find a way to backtrack or downplay your slip-up. But the truth spilled out before you could stop it. "That... I had a run-in with him a few years back, after Alastor disappeared," you admitted reluctantly, the weight of the confession heavy on your shoulders.

"Oh, Alastor won't care—"

"He will. I know he will," you interjected, your voice tinged with certainty and apprehension. “Even if Alastor won’t outwardly admit it, I know he will, because it’s Vox. The mere idea that I confided in him in a moment of loneliness will be all he focuses on. Not the fact that I was alone or scared or…” You trailed off, your hands gripping the edges of your skirt as you took a pause.

“Dear…” Rosie said softly as she pulled out the chair next to you, taking a seat and placing her hand over yours. “I won’t force your hand to tell him… but maybe it's best that he hears it from you…” She glanced over at your phone. “Instead of from another.”

"But don’t decide on it this very second," Rosie said gently, patting the top of your hand. "I think for now, we get rid of this phone and find you a new one. Hmm?" She suggested with a supportive tone as she moved to get up. "We can make it a girl’s day out."

You nodded, grateful for Rosie's understanding and support. "That sounds like a plan," you agreed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The prospect of spending the day with Rosie, away from the stresses of the hotel and the constant barrage of messages, was a welcome reprieve.

As Rosie gathered her things and you followed suit, a sense of relief washed over you. Despite the lingering uncertainty about how to handle the situation with Vox, you found solace in the knowledge that you weren't facing it alone, for now.

Together, you and Rosie made your way out of the house, the anticipation of a girls' day out adding a spring to your step. With each passing moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

As you strolled through the winding streets of Hell, the vibrant energy of the city surrounded you. Your first stop was a quaint little boutique that Rosie had mentioned, known for its eclectic collection of vintage clothing and accessories. As you browsed the racks of dresses and skirts, Rosie offered her expert advice, guiding you toward pieces that suited your style.

Trying on clothes together was a delight; you practically dotted on each other, even wearing a matching little number as you posed for photos together.

After finding a few new additions to your wardrobe, you ventured to a nearby bakery, enticed by the heavenly aroma of freshly baked treats. The display case was filled with an array of delectable pastries and confections, each more tempting than the last. With Rosie's encouragement, you indulged in a few sweet treats, savoring the rich flavors and decadent textures. Next, you found yourselves drawn to a quaint little café tucked away in a quiet corner of an alley way. The cozy atmosphere and inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew you in, and you settled into a cozy corner booth, eager to enjoy a moment of relaxation with your dear friend.

As you sipped your coffee and savored the delicious pastries, you couldn't help but feel a sense of ease as you listened to Rosie catch you up on all the gossip you had missed.

With each passing moment, the weight of your worries seemed to melt away, replaced by a renewed sense of optimism and gratitude. As you and Rosie chatted and laughed, you couldn't help but feel grateful for her and how she fell not only into a role as your friend but almost like family. You even started to forget about the problem you had both come out to deal with. 

After finishing your coffee and treats at the café, you and Rosie made your way to a nearby electronics store to find a new phone. The store, adorned with neon signs and flashing lights, buzzed with activity as demons browsed through the latest gadgets and devices.

Navigating through the aisles, you were met with a dazzling array of smartphones, each boasting impressive features and sleek designs. Rosie, ever the expert shopper, guided you through the options, offering her insights and recommendations along the way. Even if they were only about which one was cuter.

After carefully considering your preferences and needs, you finally settled on a stylish smartphone that suited your tastes. With Rosie's help, you selected the perfect model, complete with all the necessary features and capabilities - she decided on the style and you made sure to know what features you would need.

With your new phone in hand, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that you could leave the past behind and start fresh. As you activated the device and set it up, Rosie stood by your side, offering encouragement and support every step of the way.

Once your new phone was up and running, you couldn't resist snapping a selfie with Rosie to commemorate the occasion. With smiles on your faces, you captured the moment, then saved it as your wallpaper.

As you left the store, your new phone safely tucked away in your pocket, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you looked down at your old phone.

"What will you do with it?" Rosie asked, glancing down at your old phone.

You hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh before making a decision. With resolve, you raised the phone above your head and, with a swift motion, hurled it down onto the pavement, watching as it shattered into pieces.

"Oh!" Rosie gasped in surprise as she watched the phone meet its demise. She chuckled softly as you picked up the larger pieces and disposed of them in a nearby bin. "That was rather dramatic," she remarked with a small laugh.

"Dramatic and effective," you pointed out, flashing her a sheepish grin.

With your new phone in hand, you and Rosie exchanged satisfied smiles, the weight of the old phone's troubles lifted from your shoulders. Now, armed with a fresh start and a sleek device, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and determination.

"Looks like you're all set now," Rosie remarked, her tone filled with approval as she glanced at your new phone. "Ready to keep on shopping, hm?"

You nodded, a small grin playing on your lips. "Absolutely," you replied, feeling a surge of optimism coursing through you. With Rosie's unwavering support and the promise of a fresh start, you were ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead. a new beginning, you were more than ready to face whatever challenges Hell had in store for you.

But just as you turned to continue down the pathway, you collided with an all too familiar chest. With a sharp inhale, you brought your hand up to your nose, wincing as you felt the telltale sting of another scrape.

"Ah, so this is where you've been all day, hmm?" Alastor's voice cut through the air, his grip firm on your wrist as he steadied you. His gaze shifted, honing in on the mask adorning your face. "What is that on your face?" he asked, his curiosity evident in his tone.

"Alastor!" Rosie cheered as she waltzed over, all smiles and charm. "Would you look at that! As dapper as ever!"

Alastor's gaze shifted from your mask to Rosie, a curious glint in his eye. "Rosie,  Lovely Rosie," he greeted with a charming smile, releasing your wrist to offer her a polite nod. "What brings you to this corner of town?"

Rosie returned his smile with equal warmth, her posture radiating confidence. "Just enjoying a lovely day out with our (Y/N) here," she replied, gesturing towards you with a playful twinkle in her eye. "And might I say, you're looking positively devilish as always".

You couldn't help but chuckle at Rosie's clever wordplay, grateful for her ability to lighten the mood even in unexpected encounters like this. Meanwhile, Alastor's attention remained fixated on your mask, his curiosity palpable as he studied it with keen interest.

"It's a new accessory I've been trying out," you interjected, offering Alastor a sheepish smile as you adjusted the mask slightly. "Adds a bit of flair to the ensemble, wouldn't you say?"

Alastor's grin widened at your comment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Indeed it does, my dear," he replied, his tone laced with playful intrigue. "But do tell me, what's the occasion for such a daring fashion choice?"

You exchanged a quick glance with Rosie, silently conveying your agreement to stick to the story you had discussed earlier. With a confident nod, you turned back to Alastor, ready to deflect his questions with practiced ease.

"Just felt like adding a touch of mystery to the day," you replied casually, hoping to steer the conversation away from any deeper inquiries. "You know me, always one for a bit of theatrics."

Alastor chuckled at your response, seemingly satisfied with your explanation. "Ah, a kindred spirit indeed," he remarked, his grin widening as he gestured towards the bustling streets of Hell. "Well then, why don’t I join you both? I would hate to miss out.”

"Of course, Alastor," Rosie chimed in, her smile brightening at the idea of their impromptu trio. "The more, the merrier!"

You nodded in agreement, though inwardly you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension at the prospect of spending time with Alastor right now. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his sudden interest in joining your outing than met the eye.

Nevertheless, you plastered on a polite smile and nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely, Alastor," you replied, your tone laced with forced enthusiasm. "It'll be a delight to have you with us."

With Alastor now officially part of your excursion, the three of you continued your leisurely stroll down the road as Rosie and Alastor engaged in conversation. Their banter filled the air with lively energy, and you couldn't help but smile at their playful exchanges. This really did feel like old times.

As you navigated the colorful crowds and eccentric characters, you couldn't shake the feeling that this day would be anything but ordinary. The bustling streets of Hell seemed to hum with an undercurrent of anticipation, and you found yourself growing increasingly wary with each passing moment.

Glancing down at your watch, you noted the time—2:30 pm. It felt like too much time for something to go wrong, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. As you slowed down to try and walk on the side of one of them, you felt a hand on your lower back, forcing you to stay where you were. Looking up, you noticed Alastor staring down at you, his hand the one on your back.

His gaze was intense, his crimson eyes seeming to pierce right through you. You could feel a chill run down your spine as his touch sent a tingling sensation across your skin. Despite the warmth of the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over you in his presence.

"Is something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice was smooth and velvety, masking any hint of concern behind its charismatic tone. But you could sense the underlying curiosity in his words, as if he were probing for something hidden beneath the surface.

Your words spilled out in a rushed flurry, a feeble attempt to mask your unease. "Oh! No, no – not at all," you said quickly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. "Just didn't want to interrupt the rhythm of your conversation—"

Your voice faltered for a moment as Alastor's gaze held yours, his piercing eyes seeming to search for something beyond your facade. You couldn't shake the feeling that he saw right through your flimsy excuse, but you pushed aside your apprehension, plastering on a reassuring smile.

Alastor's gaze lingered for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he finally released his grip on your back. "Ah, I see," he replied, his tone nonchalant as he turned his attention back to Rosie. "Well, no need to worry about interrupting, my dear. Your presence is always welcome."

As you all wandered from shop to shop, café to café, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at the back of your mind. Despite the pleasant distractions and lighthearted conversations, the weight of your secrets hung heavy on your shoulders, casting a shadow over the otherwise enjoyable day.

As the daylight slowly faded into dusk, signaling the approaching end of the day, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety every time you made eye contact with Alastor.

"Ah, well! This is me," Rosie said, breaking the tension as she turned around and pulled you and Alastor into a farewell hug.

You embraced Rosie tightly, grateful for her presence and the distraction she provided from the weight of your secrets. As she released you from the hug, you exchanged warm smiles, knowing that her unwavering support had made the day bearable despite the underlying tension.

"Until next time, sweetie," Rosie said, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she bid you farewell. With a final wave, she disappeared into the bustling streets of cannibal town, leaving you and Alastor alone once more.

With Rosie gone, a palpable silence settled between you and Alastor, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the bustling city around you. You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly acutely aware of the weight of his gaze upon you.

"So, my dear," Alastor began, his voice low and measured, "care to enlighten me on the purpose of your little outing today?"

You swallowed nervously, your mind racing for a plausible explanation that wouldn't betray your true intentions. "Oh, you know, just needed a bit of fresh air and some company," you replied with a forced nonchalance, hoping to deflect his inquiry.

Alastor's expression remained unreadable, his crimson eyes boring into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "Is that so?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, my dear, I must say, I find your sudden need for 'fresh air' rather intriguing."

You fought to maintain your composure, refusing to let his probing gaze unsettle you. "I suppose I just wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to spend some time with Rosie," you added, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further scrutiny.

Alastor's smirk widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Ah, yes, dear Rosie," he mused, his tone tinged with amusement. "She does have a way of brightening even the dreariest of days, doesn't she?"

You nodded, grateful for the change in topic. "Indeed she does," you replied, relieved to have successfully deflected Alastor's suspicions, at least for the moment. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on, and that your secrets were not as safely guarded as you had hoped.

Alastor's smirk persisted, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made you feel as though he was peeling back the layers of your facade with each passing second. "Yes, indeed," he said slowly, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. "But something tells me there's more to this little outing than meets the eye."

You swallowed nervously, cursing yourself for not being more careful with your words. Alastor was perceptive, far more perceptive than you had given him credit for, and it seemed that he was not content to let the matter rest.

"Come now, my dear," Alastor continued, his voice silky smooth but with an underlying edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "You can't expect me to believe that you simply wanted to spend the day gallivanting around Hell with dear Rosie, can you?"

You bit your lip, your mind racing as you searched for a plausible explanation that would satisfy his curiosity without revealing too much. "Well, you know how it is, Alastor," you said, your tone carefully casual. "Just felt like getting out of the hotel for a bit, that's all."

Alastor's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Is that so?" he mused, his voice dripping with skepticism. "And yet, here we are, the three of us, wandering the streets of Hell with no clear destination in mind. That's very .. unlike you."

You shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. It was clear that Alastor wasn't going to let the matter drop until he had satisfied his curiosity, and you knew that you would have to tread carefully if you wanted to keep your secrets safe.

"Did you successfully change your number?" Alastor inquired casually.

"Well, yes, of course I did—" You trailed off abruptly, your eyes widening in realization. He knew.

You froze, the color draining from your face as realization dawned upon you. Alastor's keen observation had unveiled the truth, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. How had he known about your attempt to change your number?

Alastor's grin widened at your reaction, his amusement evident as he tilted his head slightly. "Ah, so you did," he remarked casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "But you see, my dear, there are some things that simply can't be hidden from me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of Alastor's words settling heavily upon you. It was clear that he had ways of uncovering even your most carefully guarded secrets, and the realization filled you with a sense of dread. What other truths did he know, and how much of yourself had you unwittingly revealed to him?

"I must say, though," Alastor continued, his tone light and playful. "I do admire your efforts to maintain a sense of privacy. It's quite endearing, really."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to process the implications of Alastor's words. It was clear that you were no match for his keen intellect and uncanny ability to unravel the truth, and you couldn't help but wonder what other secrets he had uncovered about you.

Alastor's playful demeanor shifted subtly, his gaze sharpening as he took a step closer, effectively cornering you against the nearby storefront. His presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch into the depths of your unease.

"You know, my dear," he began, his voice low and intimate, "secrets have a way of finding their way to the surface, no matter how deeply buried they may seem."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a vice. Despite your attempts to maintain a façade of composure, you couldn't shake the feeling of being ensnared in Alastor's gaze, trapped by his uncanny perception.

"I'm afraid I must insist on the truth," Alastor continued, his tone taking on a subtle edge of determination. "There are matters at hand that require clarity, and I cannot abide by deception."

You felt a bead of sweat form at the base of your neck, your nerves fraying under the intensity of Alastor's scrutiny. With each passing moment, it became increasingly clear that you were outmatched, caught in the intricate web of his manipulation.

As Alastor's intense gaze bore into you, you felt a surge of nervous energy course through your veins, rendering you unable to maintain eye contact. His eyes seemed to pierce through your defenses, unraveling the carefully constructed facade you had built around yourself.

But just as you averted your gaze, Alastor's hand snaked out, his fingers wrapping around your chin with a firm yet gentle touch. The unexpected contact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a spark of tension that crackled in the air between you.

Forced to meet his gaze once more, you found yourself ensnared in the depths of his piercing eyes, unable to tear yourself away. There was an intensity in his stare, a magnetic pull that drew you in despite your instinct to resist.

As you locked eyes with him, you felt a strange sense of vulnerability wash over you, as though he could see straight through to the depths of your soul. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to look away, to break the connection and retreat to the safety of your own thoughts.

But his grip on your chin held you in place, anchoring you to the moment as the tension between you reached a fever pitch. In that electrifying moment, you were acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body, the tantalizing proximity between you stirring something deep within your core.

And as the seconds ticked by in silence, the air thick with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of Alastor's enigmatic gaze. It was a question that begged to be answered, a mystery that tantalized your senses and beckoned you closer, even as you struggled to resist its pull.

"Now, why would Vox be contacting you, my dear?"