#this is your sign to go to a local bakery

[briskunt]

it is so crazy how much a concha can improve your mood

[perfectqueenfan]

Having the egg right at the opening at the start of your work shift, so you have to hold the egg in so you can finally deliver the egg back home.

*Sorry folks it's gonna be a long one. I got a good writing flow and idea for this.*

I knew that going into work today was probably not the smartest idea, but I needed the money and had signed on for a double shift. I started early, driving to the bakery I worked at around 7:45am. A few months ago I had signed on to help a friend out with a science project for one of their classes at our local college, which ended up being something a lot more out of the ordinary than I had initially thought.

"Human egg incubation. But not like a human egg, you have plenty of those. I found these alien eggs on the black market and need a test subject to see if these are even real. Can you help me please?" And me, being weak when it came to them, said yes. It has been 4 months since we inserted one of the eggs into my womb, at the time it was as small as a pea. They were a light green color, slightly glowing. To a normal eye, you wouldn't notice any difference with me. But I could see the beginning of a bump forming, the slight distended look of where my womb is, looking like I had just a little too much to eat. The bump was firm if I pressed against it, and I could often feel the egg shift when I moved around. It had definitely grown, I'm unsure by how much but enough for me to feel it's weight at all times.

When I pulled into the staff parking lot, I felt a sudden shift in my womb, more intense than the usual movement. Running a hand across the tiny bump, I felt to make sure that nothing was breaking before heading into work. Greeting my co-worker Annie, I moved to grab my apron when I felt a twinge deep in my belly. Placing my hand against the bump again, I felt the egg shift in a harsher way than normal. Weird, but it's not gonna stop me from getting my job done, I thought to myself as I tied on my apron and began to open up the bakery.

It wasn't even an hour into open when I had to excuse myself for a bio break, quickly rushing to the bathroom as another wave of pain washed over me. As soon as I was in a stall I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down enough to expose me stomach and underwear. Looking at my bump, I noticed it was a bit more pronounced and I could feel the egg shift again uncomfortably, holding back a groan at the feeling. But the pain wouldn't let up, a near wiggling feeling from how much the egg was shifting again the walls of my womb. Then it all came to a crest when I felt a pop like feeling, a small rush of what seems to be blue slime coming from between my legs and soaking my underwear.

"Oh, fuck me." I cursed under my breath as I grabbed some toilet paper to quickly wipe away what would be best described as my waters, really it was a mucus sac the egg had developed around itself to keep it safe. Once I was cleaned enough, I pulled my pants back up and quickly rushed to the break room to grab my phone, texting my friend that the egg was on its way. That's when it dawned on me, I had signed up for a double shift today. Realizing that I had to stall the birth of this egg as much as possible, I put back on my apron and walked back to the counter with determination: make it thought this shift without having this egg.

Not even halfway though my first shift, I realized that was easier said than done. The egg, which turns out was massive, had managed to fully get into my birth canal and weighing heavily on my hips. I was saving my groans until I was in the pantry or couldn't be heard over the espresso machines. The worst part though, is that I was so turned on by it. The hiding, the weight and feeling of the egg shifting lower and lower, and nobody else knew that I was using all my mental strength not to give in and push the massive egg out of me. Moving throughout the motions of making yet another caramel macchiato, I bent down to grab another carton of milk when the egg shot forward, resting just behind my lips. I let out a startled yelp at the feeling, Annie giving me a weird look at my sudden outburst. "Hit my head." Was all I said and she gave a nod of understanding before returning to the customer.

By 3pm, I was sweating, constantly denying my bodies cry to push practically every minute as I moved around the bakery. My confident walk had turned into a slow, almost waddle. It felt like there was a bowling ball between my legs, and with every step the feeling of the egg shifting right at my entrance was torture. But I couldn't push, not here and definitely not right before the after-school rush of students. Standing behind the counter taking orders, a regular walked up and began chatting about her annoying professor. I felt myself relax a bit, swinging into our normal conversation. Biggest mistake. Not even realizing, my body began pushing, feeling the sudden stretch of my hole making me whimper out in shock and pain. Without apologizing, I rushed to the bathroom and quickly undid my pants again, pulling my underwear down too. I could see the tiniest bit of hard, glowing green shell peaking between my lips. Running my fingers against it, I moaned out as I pushed it back in, my body protesting as I did. Once I felt safe enough, I returned to work, only for all the progress I had just undone to return, feeling my opening begin to spread again just a bit as the egg slowly shifted downward.

Finally, after two hours of feeling the egg ever so slowly stretch me open, I left work for the day and as quickly as I could rushed to my car. The second I sat down, the angle from the seat and my jeans pushed the egg back into me a bit, causing me to groan at the feeling. I pressed a hand to my throbbing cunt, feeling the slight outline of the egg though my pants. It wasn't crowning, but it was getting close. Driving home was almost as bad as working, the constant burning and subconscious pushing but the egg not being able to move due to my underwear and jeans.

I managed to get into my home with only a slight waddle, not being able to fully close me legs with the giant egg weighing between them. I didn't even try to get to my room, heading to the couch in the living room and striping off every article of clothing on my body. I pressed one hand over my pussy again, feeling the egg against my palm. It felt like it was tearing me open, at least the size of an ostrich egg, and hand more of a bumpy texture. I whimpered for hours as I squatted and tried to push the egg out of my cunt, playing with my clit to try and ease the slide out with arousal. Around 11pm, I finally got the egg to crown, crying out as it felt like I was being split open and simultaneously orgasming, managing to have the egg pop and slip free of my poor, overstretched cunt.

[ddlydevotion]

OUR DAY WILL COME ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Being Bo Chow’s Wife headcanons…

a/n: this was written with a black fem reader in mind (this is a little self indulgent lol) but anybody can read & enjoy this! I’m not strictly a Sinners blog so I won’t be writing for these characters all the time. Also, the backstory was inspired by @nothanksofficer, so go check them out 💌!!

Currently listening to: We’ll Be United by The Intruders

You cannot tell me that this man doesn't teach you how to string together sentences in Mandarin (if you don't already speak it). It'd start with him having sweet little nicknames for you in his native tongue, then you'd get curious & end up wanting him to teach you what he knows.

Many of the nicknames he has for you derive from your characteristics & personality. I'm really set on the fact that he'd call you 'little sweetheart' in Mandarin. It's also quite obvious if you've seen the movie that he'd call you baby. Imagine this man calling you baby/sweetheart/honey in that smoky southern accent...I need to be put down.

You were known in town as the girl to go to if somebody needed artistic or creative direction in whatever they were working on. That lady down the street needs help patching up a dress? You'd show up with your sewing kit ready to go. The owner of a local bakery needs assistance painting over some stubborn stains? You'd be there with your very own paint, gloves, brushes, and a little stool for you to stand on. That's how you and Bo met in the first place. He was in desperate search for somebody that'd be able to help him produce a sign for his store. Every time he'd ask somebody if they knew anyone who could assist him in such a task, they'd reply with your name and nod their head towards your studio.

and by God, were you gorgeous. Bo stumbled over his words for a good ten seconds before pausing and finally spitting out "uh d'ya think ya could help me with a sign? I heard ya paint and do all sorts of things and uh- it's for my store." He was nervous but he'd be damned if he screwed up his first impression and ruined all his chances of working with you in the future. But, you simply flashed a sweet smile his way and graced him with an enthusiastic "of course! Whaddya have in mind?"

he loves eating pussy. send!

he’s very very handsy when he’s eating you out. One of his hands is always kneading and pinching your tits, savoring your sweet little sounds before trailing down to settle his hand on your tummy. He wraps his strong arms around your aching thighs, anchoring your hips down to the bed.

What he had in mind was him getting his act together so he could see that sweet little smile of yours every single day & night.

Bo definitely wants to have at least one baby with you. He's brought it up many times when the two of you are laying in bed together, skin-to-skin, after he's worn you out. He'll trace your plush hips n torso with his fingers, racking his eyes up the body that he adores oh so much before saying "I think we should go again, hm? Just to make sure it really sticks."

This man is suave he knows exactly how to flirt with you and what it takes to get you going. He doesn't lay it on thick (unless it takes you a while to understand he's flirting), he's slow with his touch and intentional with his words. Sorta like a game of cat and mouse.

Gives amazing massages. He'd definitely be the type to plop your sore feet onto his lap after a long day of walking around and start rubbing them.

"Does that feel good? Oh, I bet it does. You're real tense, baby."

He is a monster when it comes to eye contact and he'd do it even more if you're quick to get shy. He uses your flustered state to his advantage and gets you to finally look at him by placing a hand on your chin & tilting your head in his direction.

"y'know you can look at me right, ya don't gotta be all shy. Such a pretty lil thing, aint'cha?"

His proposal was one of the sweetest things you ever witnessed. You couldn't contain the gasp that left your mouth at the sight of him getting down on one knee. He went on to list all of his favorite things about you, your sweetness, compassionate nature, the protectiveness you harbor for the things you cherish. He recited his favorite moments that the two of you have shared, how he loves when your nose scrunches up when something is too sweet, how you bite your lip when you're concentrating, how you can't help but close your eyes and smile when your favorite song comes on.

"and I just knew from the very first moment I saw ya, baby, that you were the girl I wanted to settle down with. I wanted to bring you to meet my mom an' dad, buy ya a house, give you my baby if you'd let me, everything -anything you wanted, I wanted to give it to ya. and that's exactly what i'ma do, baby. All ya gotta do is say yes."

He undoubtedly got misty eyed seeing you walk down the aisle. Your wedding photos look a lot like the ones below (I know these aren’t time accurate let me have fun):

Bo is most definitely the type of man to hand feed his woman. Whenever the two of you are working on dinner together, he’ll hold a spoon up to your mouth so that you can have a taste of what he’s fixing up.

I’ll be posting a part two soon so let me know if you’d like to be tagged once it’s finished 💌🌷.

[erwinsvow]

stepbrother pope finally decides he’s had enough of this life when you tearfully tell him you’re pregnant and you don’t know what to do. you’re scared of what everyone will think and say and you’re not strong enough to hide that the baby is andrew’s and so. he does the quiet, shaky “we’re having a baby?” and he hugs you and tells you it’ll all be okay and that he’ll take care of everything. a few weeks later before anyone knows and before it becomes clear to anyone, he wakes you up in the middle of the night and carries you to his truck. packs a few small suitcases and takes everything you two might need right away. drives for hours and hours until you two end up in at a small house in a quiet town and he says this is ours. a few bedrooms and lots of sun and things he needs to fix but it’ll get done with time. though, you do notice, the only things already made is the bed frame and a crib. spends his days fixing all the parts of the house that need it, taking you to little stores nearby to pick out furniture and things you want to decorate with. people start seeing you guys around—at the grocery store and the local bakery when the baby has a craving—and he realizes you’re going to start showing soon and you don’t have a wedding ring. so that’s next, two simple bands for both of you and some signed papers at the local city hall. he gets a job at the local car shop and says that after the baby’s older if you want to teach at the local school or work part time at a shop you can. but you tell him probably not because when the baby’s older you’ll likely be pregnant with your second. and when he gets into bed at night, he actually falls asleep.

[avocado-writing]

Could you write the idea of Logan proposing and how the engagement, the planning and the wedding is like?

minors dni. oh, if it’s worst Logan? He’d be so worried, man. Really beating himself up over it. Is he too old for you, can you do better, would you laugh at him? Is he just locking you into a prison sentence by asking? And then the second he pop the question you burst into tears while sobbing “yes”, throwing yourself into his arms with such force that he’s knocked over.

It’s not a big ceremony. You only have a few people to invite (Wade immediately enlists himself as your best man/maid of honour, you have no choice) and the two of you don’t want anything too crazy anyway. You go to a registry office to sign the papers, you wearing something cute and second hand, him in jeans and a dress shirt. You’ve hired a bar for the reception and it’s been decked out in flowers and banners, and all your friends watch on happily as you drag him up for dance after dance, just because you want him to be close to you. You dance with all your friends actually - in fact Wade made you learn one of the ones from breakfast club to do with him - you boogie with Al, grab Laura’s hands and have a little groove together. She can’t stop giggling and Logan’s heart is so full watching you have fun with everyone who loves you so, so much… and sort of has to accept the fact that they love him too.

A local bakery did your cake and you convince Logan to cut your first slice with one of his claws. He spears a mouthful on the end of it and you carefully bite it off, eyes full of the promise of what you’re going to do later.

and you do. You don’t drink too much and neither does he, because you’re giddy on the vibes anyway, and you fall into bed that night. Hands everywhere. Kisses messy. He pins you to the mattress and you hold his face in your hands, whispering about how perfect he is, how much you love him, how fucking happy you are. He fucks you soft and slow, forehead against yours, wanting to hear every noise you make as he makes you come again and again.

“my husband,” you keep whispering, and nothing’s made him feel that good for a long time.

[binniesbobastay]

Felix - Sugar, Warmed-Over

Stray Kids - Felix x afab!Reader

@sydsownworld this one's for you 🫶🏻 srry it took me so long to write for felix, oops...

photos from pinterest

Tags: 18+ content, minors dni, smut, exes to lovers, fluff, a little angst, mentions of food/germs/hospitals, oral (f and m receiving), protected sex (reader on pill), cream pie, language, female anatomy mentioned for reader.

wc: 4.5k

🪐 You move back to your hometown after being away at school to complete your residency. You run into your ex boyfriend, Felix, at your favorite childhood bakery he took over and turned into a cafe before one of your shifts.🪐

You stood outside, gawking furiously at the sign of the new coffee shop that replaced your favorite childhood bakery. "Spring Day Café," it read, surrounded by cute little sketches of cartoon flowers and baby chicks. Disgusting.

You had a 12-hour shift tonight as part of your residency, which, ironically enough, you had been assigned to the hospital in your hometown for. It was just an hour outside the big city where you went to medical school. You could have stayed at your apartment there, but after taking a look at your already sky-high debt, you decided it was probably better to take a break from paying rent and avoid spending so much on gas for the commute. So, you moved back in with your parents, planning on only staying there for the six months of your residency, and then you'd go to another hospital... preferably on the other side of the country.

You were in desperate need of a pick-me-up before your shift. The bakery belonged to Mr. Owens, one of the town's beloved residents. It used to be the place where you'd get your favorite cookies when you were a kid, and then it turned into the place where you got your favorite cup of coffee in high school and on weekends when you would visit from college. But like Mr. Owens... the bakery was gone.

Its remains were now taken over by one of those trendy Korean cafes, which you had no idea how a place like that could have ended up in a small town like this. You could go to the local Starbucks, but it was a few miles drive and in the part of town that gets a lot of traffic in the evening. The bakery was only a couple of blocks from the hospital. So, you decided to grin and bear it, finally going inside before people started thinking you were going crazy for having beef with a building.

The bell above the door rings when you enter, and the sweet/bitter smell of sugar and coffee fills the air.

"Welcome to Spring-" You freeze in your tracks at the sound of a familiar voice pausing as it welcomes you in. When your eyes adjust from the setting sunlight, you see him. The warm, brown eyes of your ex-boyfriend stare right back at you.

"Felix..." you murmur. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Well, well," he says in that deep voice of his, "any changes to your order since I last saw you?"

You shake your head, snapping out of your initial shock to answer him, "uh... just... skim milk instead of 2% now."

"Ah, healthy now, are we?" He teases. You scoff in response.

"Shut up." He just chuckles, gesturing to a high top in front of the register.

"Sit, I'll have it right out for you." You think about saying something else, but words have somehow left you behind at the moment. You sit where he tells you to and leave him to work. A little while later, he sits across from you, passing you an iced coffee, just how you like it. You can't help the fond smile that comes across your face.

"You remembered."

"I did... stopping here before school every morning with you will do that." He responds. Your eyes flicker up to his, noting the sparkle in them. You lean in, lips wrapping around the straw as you take your first sip. You close your eyes in bliss as the sweetness washes over your tongue. Miraculously, it's even better than the coffee you used to get at the bakery.

"How is it?" He asks. You let out a dreamy sigh.

"It's like... warmed-over sugar... like heaven..." He grins at your rambling.

"You know, that's not really a term, right? Because sugar is caramelized whenever it's heated up..." You roll your eyes.

"Whatever, smartass. Shouldn't you be working? Why are you sitting around on the job?" He shrugs.

"Well, I'm the owner. So, it's safe to say I can do whatever I want." You go silent at this. It makes sense. Felix was one of Mr. Owens' favorite employees around the bakery.

"Owens...?" Felix nods.

"He left it to me..." You think back to the cartoon baby chicks on the sign. You didn't realize in your "rage" how familiar they were. The same ones that Felix was always doodling in his notebooks at school.

"Well, I'll be damned. Felix Lee... small town business owner." You remark. He smiles and shrugs.

"Why not... move to the city and open up a place like this? Wouldn't it do better?" You question.

"That was the plan, and I'm actually looking into opening a second location there... but after Mr. Owens passed on, I knew I couldn't let him down." Your heart swells at this.

"Still sentimental, I see." He just shakes his head, but continues to wear the same playful smile.

"So... how's it been? Being back in town?" He asks. You raise a brow at him. "Mum said you were here for your residency."

You nod. That checks. Word often gets round before you know it around here.

"It's... been an adjustment. I can't lie," you admit. He nods, understanding as ever.

"I'd imagine." You nod back. Then silence washes over as the adrenaline from a first meeting in so long begins to wear off. Your mind begins to reflect on all the obvious, eyesores of events that have happened between high school and now.

You had gotten your undergrad two states over, desperately craving a change in scenery. Felix decided to stay here and save up working at the bakery, swearing that one day he would go to culinary school and open up his own restaurant, something he had always wanted to do. You two agreed to do long distance, but that eventually fell through. When you broke up, you promised you would revisit things after you were done with school. Four years later, you went to med school an hour away and never called him or thought to visit him when you were home. You don't know why you didn't... You still don't. After all, it's not like you ended on bad terms, and he was a more than amazing boyfriend. Better than any of the flings you had away at school. He loved you; you loved him. Maybe you still did.

"But, it's just for my residency. Then I'll be able to go wherever I want." You finally break the silence. He gives you a small smile, but you swear you can make out a sadness in his eyes that makes your stomach churn with guilt.

"You'll get through it. I know you will. You were meant to do this." He tells you. Your eyes soften at him before you glance down and check the time.

"I uh- have my shift in half an hour." Felix looks down at his lap, and you can see the disappointment despite nodding, understandingly.

"Maybe we can do more of this while you're here." He looks at you, hopefully.

"Yeah. We can." Maybe now is your chance to make up for never reaching out to him. He smiles at your reply, the freckles dusting his cheeks lifting as he does. He makes you another drink to go. It's on the house, along with the one he made you earlier. But you slipped a few dollar bills into the tip jar when he wasn't looking. You give him a hug, and he still smells like the bakery, just like he used to. You then go on your way, ready to brave whatever the hell an emergency room in a small town can bring.

~

Twelve hours later, 6 o'clock in the morning. You walk out into the hospital parking lot after clocking out. Your feet ache with each step, and you feel like you're about ready to peel off your skin, covered in layers of sweat and oil. All you want to do is curl up in bed and never come out again.

You throw your bag into your passenger seat, plopping down into the driver's. You change out of your hospital shoes into your spare ones before sitting back. You let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes as your head flops back onto the headrest. Maybe you should be reflecting on what you learned tonight... or maybe you should be trying to pry the graphic things you witnessed from your mind... but all you can think about is Felix. He hasn't left your head since you walked out of the cafe.

And that's why, instead of pulling out onto the street and heading home, you turn into the gravel parking lot on the side of the building. You don't know the hours, but the lights were on when you drove by, so you figured you would give it a shot. You step out of your car and walk up to the front door. There he is, dressed in his sweater, jeans, and apron... ready for the day. He's adjusting a small vase of flowers at one of the tables before he looks up and sees you through the window. He looks surprised. You can't blame him; you probably look like a ghost just standing there in your grimy scrubs.

"Hey," he greets, voice soft, when he unlocks and opens the door, "did you have a good shift?"

He doesn't question why you're here before the cafe is open. He just wants to know if you had a good shift, his first concern being you, and that alone just makes you want to fall back into his arms.

"Yeah. Long, tiring- but good." Then you just stand there, staring at him like a fool. You shake your head as the rashness of you being here finally gets to you.

"I'm- sorry. I don't know why the hell I came. I'm gross and covered in hospital germs. I definitely shouldn't be around any type of place that serves food. I'll, um, I'll let you get back to opening." You're about to turn away and go back to your car when he gently takes your arm.

"Hey, no. It's okay, come in. It's just me here right now," he pulls you inside, closing the door behind you, "are you okay?"

You let out a deep sigh and nod.

"I'm fine. I just- I'm exhausted," you hesitate, "and I just couldn't wait to see you again."

You're completely zeroed onto his face at your confession, but his expression is unreadable which makes you nervous. You watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down when he swallows.

"I live in the room upstairs. Would you like to-"

"Yes." You interrupt him, and you see a glimmer in his eyes. He smiles and cocks his head towards the small hallway at the back of the cafe. You follow him to the end of it, which leads to some rickety stairs. At the top, there's a door that opens to a small, cozy apartment. It screams Felix in there. Everything is bright and warm, even in the early hours of the morning, when the sun is barely up.

"It's nice in here," you comment, taking in the quaint space.

"Thanks." The two of you stand there awkwardly, another heavy silence encapsulating the room. You finally decide you can't stand it anymore.

"Do you resent me? Like, at all?" Felix is taken aback by the sudden outburst of your question, his brow furrowed.

"Why would I?" You huff, throwing up your hands.

"I don't know. We said we would reach out to each other again once I was finished with school, but I never did. And I was only an hour away these past four years, and I-I never called, never texted, never tried to see you again. Do you hate me for that?"

You see his jaw clench, not necessarily in frustration. You can just tell he's thinking.

"A phone works both ways, you know? I didn't call you either." You sit with his words for a minute. He was right. But you were the one who left, so you never really thought about it that way.

"Do you resent me for that?" he asks. Your eyes soften.

"No, definitely not." He nods, and you think you see his shoulders drop slightly in relief.

"I don't either." You feel yourself settle as closure begins to finally set in.

"Why didn't you call me?" you ask him after a beat. He averts your gaze.

"I-I figured I should just let you move on. I know how much you wanted to get away from here. Even after hearing you were an hour away, and later even after hearing you moved back into town...I just thought it was better to let you be. He hesitates before looking back up at you as he continues.

"I know, realistically I probably wasn't, but deep down... I couldn't help but think I was some part of the reason you wanted to leave so badly. I mean, I had no desire to do anything else with my life like you did. I know I talked about culinary school, but I was just trying to match your ambition." He swallows, thickly.

"The truth is, I was more than content to grow old and die here, working at the bakery," he gives a dry laugh, "And because of that, I felt like I was keeping you tethered here, and that's why you wanted to break free."

Your heart shatters. All this time, he thought he was the reason you left when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"Oh Felix, I swear, you are the furthest thing from any of the reasons I wanted to leave," you begin, "Felix, I would have gladly stayed here with you if... every time I was in this town I didn't think about the group of girls that made fun of me for how I looked in my prom dress, or the science teachers that never believed in me, or my complicated ass relationship with my mom..." you swallow the lump in your throat.

"You were one of the only good things about my life here. And I'm sorry I let all the things I hate about this town push me away from you."

He listens, eyes glossy, as you speak.

"I know you had a hard time growing up here. I was happy to see you get out because I knew that was best for you," he pauses, "and I'm sorry that I couldn't find the will to go with you, or the courage to embrace change. I'm just- sorry."

You nod, letting out a soft sigh.

"So, we're both sorry for things we're not actually mad at each other for. That's the consensus?" You both let out a huff of amusement.

"Can't stay mad at someone I still love so much..." Felix murmurs, setting your heart ablaze.

"Felix..." You whisper. He then steps closer, about to reach out and touch your face when you stop him.

"I'd- love to do that, believe me, I would," you tell him, "But I'm kind of a walking biohazard right now."

You both break out into a fit of laughter, a nice change after all the things unspoken were finally no longer left hanging in the air.

"Tell you what then, you go get out of those clothes and have a shower," he steps closer, voice lowering, "that way, I can finally kiss you all over. Then you can get some sleep here. What do you say?"

You feel your stomach flutter at the offer and you bite your lip.

"You have a cafe to run. I don't want to impose." He smirks.

"I have other people working here, you know? Managers who probably know what they're doing more than I do, actually." Your lips quirk up in a smile.

"Are you sure?" You ask, to which he tilts his head, insistently.

"You're my girl, you never stopped being my girl. Let me take care of you."

~

So, you take Felix up on his offer, knowing you were two damn exhausted to drive home anyway. He gives you a plastic bag to set your scrubs in. You step into the shower, letting the warm water and vanilla-scented body wash melt away the tension and aches in your muscles. Once you're done, you get out and dry off with a towel before wrapping it around your body. When you step into his connected bedroom, he's sitting there on the edge of the bed waiting for you.

He's changed into a t-shirt and sweats, eyes roaming over your body as if they're mapping out each water droplet on your skin. Beside him sits a pile of folded clothes, probably for you. He takes one look at them and tosses them onto the chair nearby.

"You won't be needing those yet." You smirk, stepping closer.

"I won't?" You ask, playfully. Felix returns your smirk, reaching out and pulling you closer by your waist until you're standing between his legs.

"Nope." His hand slides up, taking the edge of the towel and tugging at it until it falls, pooling around your ankles. His usual warm eyes darken.

"Fucking finally," he murmurs, huskily. His hands splay over your hips before he leans in and presses a few open-mouth kisses to your stomach and over your ribs. You bite your lip, brushing your fingers through his hair that he dyed blonde junior year, and never went back.

He growls against your skin, pulling you to the bed, making you gasp. He pins you to the sheets, hovering over you and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, supporting his weight with one arm as he uses the other to slide up your side and cup your breast. This earns a moan from you, arching into his touch.

He nibbles your bottom lip before moving to press kisses to your jaw, down your neck.

"Missed those pretty noises," he murmurs, finding your pulse point and sucking a mark there. His fingers softly pinch your nipple as he does.

"Fuck, Felix." You whine, feeling him smirk against your skin.

"Always so worked up right when I begin to touch you." He leans back to take off his shirt. You're already panting for breath as your eyes flicker over his toned torso, reaching your hand out to touch him there. You feel him stiffen under you at first, like he's getting used to it again. But then he relaxes. He takes your wrist, bringing the inside of it to his lips.

His hooded eyes never leave yours as he kisses up your arm, until his mouth hovers over your breasts. He gives both of them the right attention, kneading them, licking and sucking. It's enough to have you pressing your thighs together in need of more. He leaves one last kiss between the valley of your breasts before he moves down the bed, propping up on his knees.

His slim fingers enclose your foot, gently massaging it.

"Been on your feet all night, yeah, love?" he whispers, his earlier hunger subsiding a bit, replaced by tenderness. You watch him, giving him a hazy nod. He hums, kissing your ankle. he spends some time massaging your limbs before he finally settles between your legs, parting them gently.

Your breath hitches as you feel him leave a kiss below your navel, lips traveling along the outside of your pussy. But he doesn't make you wait for long before he's slipping his tongue through your folds. You let out a moan you hadn't realized you were holding back.

"Mmm, tastes so good," he kisses your clit, "like warmed-over sugar." You smile when you realize he's repeating your conversation from yesterday.

"You know that's not really a term," you tease him back. He snickers, leaving a sharp bite on the inside of your thigh before going all in. He devours you, encompassing you with his lips, his tongue vigorously flicking against your clit when he isn't sucking on it. Your thighs tremble on either side of his head.

"Felix!" you cry out, fingers clawing at his sheets. He groans against you in response, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. Your hands then thread through his hair when his tongue slips inside you, nose continuing to nudge at your sensitive nerves. You know it won't be long before you fall off the edge, so you give his hair a warning tug.

"That's it, angel," he whispers into your wetness, "let go for me." You don't have to be told twice as you feel the tightness in your core snap, calling out his name. He gives your folds light strokes with his tongue to help you ride it out, gently pulling away when it's over.

He nuzzles against your thigh, lips ghosting over the skin there as he peers up at you.

"You okay, angel?". You flash him a breathy smile.

"What do you think?" He just chuckles and crawls back up your body. "Almost forgot how good you were at that."

He grimaces as if the memory of his former skills is painful. "Trust me, I've gotten better."

"Oh?" Your brow raises. "You think so?"

"I'll let you be the judge of that." He leans in, kissing you again. You hum against his lips when you taste yourself. His kiss is more tender this time, and he lingers there for a few moments before you gently push him onto his back, moving on top of him. He looks up at you, surprised.

"What are you up to?" You grin up at him, your lips brushing against his jaw and then down his neck and chest.

"What? A girl can't return the favor?" you ask, feigning innocence. You feel him shiver as you scatter kisses across each one of his abs.

"I should be taking care of you. You're the one who was working all night," he remarks, yet he makes no move to stop you. You smile, teeth nipping at the skin above his waistband, before you nuzzle against his hardness through his sweats. This earns a low moan from him, his eyes fluttering shut, his plush lips parting.

You slowly begin to tug down the fabric, letting his cock spring free. You get them down to his ankles before your own impatience takes over. You wrap your lips around his flushed tip, carefully hollowing your cheeks around him. A deep groan fills your ears as a reward.

"That's it, baby. Just like that," Felix whispers into the dimly lit room, the rising sun barely peeking through the curtains. You make a small noise against him before starting to take him deeper into your throat.

"Oh, good girl," he hisses, wrapping his fist in your hair so he can guide your movements. The room echoes with the obscene sounds of your wet mouth around him. Your neck and shoulders begin to slightly ache again, but you push through it. The possessive feeling of his hands in your hair is too good to stop now.

"Fuck, angel. Please. I need to fuck you now. Need you so bad." He guides you off of him. He grips your chin after pulling you back, wiping the wetness away from your bottom lip with his thumb.

"Mmm, such a good girl. Getting me all nice and ready for this sweet pussy." You whimper, and before you know it, he has you on your back again. He slots himself between your legs, reaching down to give himself a few pumps before running his tip against your folds. You grip his arms, nails slightly digging into his tan skin.

"Yeah, can I go in like this?" he asks between breaths, rubbing a few circles around your clit.

"Yeah..." you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck, "...on the pill."

He nods before pressing against your entrance, slipping into you. You moan at the stretch it brings.

"Shh. I got you, angel," he whispers in your ear, leaving kisses around the shell of it. He doesn't move until you tell him to, setting a steady space. He props himself up on his arms on either side of your head so he can watch your face.

"So fucking pretty like this. You're so beautiful." He pets the top of your head, picking up the pace. Your breath hitches, legs wrapping around his waist.

"Mhmm, good girl," he angles his hips, thrusting harder, "you remember how I like it. Fuck, you still take me so well."

"Felix," you moan, pulling him down for a kiss. He gladly obliges, your tongue sliding against his. He slams into you harder, abusing the sweet spot inside you. Your eyes squeeze shut, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

"Fucking hell..." you groan, trembling beneath him. He smirks, running a hand along your hip, down between your legs. He starts to softly rub at your clit, contrasting with the rough movement of his hips against you.

"Gotta make you come for me again, sweet girl," his low voice drips into your ear, "come on, you can do it."

His words already begin to make you tighten, stars dancing across your vision.

"F-felix... please..." you whine. He shakes his head.

"Told you, angel. I got you," he whispers, "never letting you go again."

He rubs your clit a little rougher, sending you over the edge for a second time. He groans when he feels you clench around him. In a few more thrusts, he's right there with you, spilling deep inside of you.

He stays like that for a while, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he catches his breath. Your fingers run lightly up and down his back as you catch your own. Later, he moves to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"I love you," you whisper. You hear his breath still under his chest, and he cranes his neck to look down at you, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"I love you too," he whispers back with a smile, "I know I never stopped."

He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his lips. You let out a deep breath, settling back down on his chest.

"So, I guess we just suffered a case of right person, wrong time?" He hums thoughtfully.

"Yeah, guess we did." A beat passes and you begin to hear the sounds of the town waking up outside.

"Do you think it's the right time now?" He smiles.

"Yeah, I do," he mumbles into your hair.

~

A year later, you're lying in his arms just like that in your new apartment with him. The two of you moved back to the city where you went to med school and you were set to become a doctor at the hospital there. Felix opened up that second location for his cafe and he just enrolled in culinary night school. There was a ring he picked out for you waiting in the dresser beside your bed that you didn't know about yet.

So, he wasn't wrong; it was the right time now.

A/n: Hi! It's been fun getting back into writing :) I think I'll keep at it and change my blog a bit. Hope you enjoyed! Please please please reblog & comment if you did! Thank you!

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 16:49 ⏤ FREE GOODIES

SUM. : you had more baked goods than you were able to sell and decide to give them out for free to the firefighters at your local fire station to say thank you

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; baker reader ; firefighter james ; james being a love sick puppy ; he hides it well though ; remus and sirius begin scheming ; everyone knows james is in love ; it's obvious to everyone but you

LENGTH : 1.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“No! Don’t tell me!” you giggle as the man behind the counter grins widely and laughs along with you, his hazel eyes carefully watching as you bring up a brown paper bag and a steaming take-away cup of coffee, “Our special BLT sandwich and a dark roast, cocoa blend to go,”

“All ready for me, huh?” James teases as you smile innocently. He pays for his order and goes to inspect the contents of the brown paper bag as you move behind the cash register and file away his notes, “And a mini treacle tart!” James’ voice lights up in cheerful surprise when he sees the unexpected treat but hurriedly goes in search for more payment in his wallet. 

“Don’t you dare, James,” you scold light-heartedly, “it’s on the house,” his movements stop and he meets your eyes, ready to retaliate. However, sensing your seriousness, his shoulders slacken and his expression eases into a grateful smile instead. 

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” of course, he couldn’t help but send you a wink. His words spread a heat across your cheeks but you pay it no mind, hoping that any signs of your flustered state can be ignored as long as you didn’t draw attention to it. 

“I know I am~” 

“Take care, angel,” with a toothy grin and a wave, James turns and leaves, his day already looking as bright as could be. 

James has been visiting your little bakery and cafe for the better part of a year now; he’s become one of your beloved regulars, maybe one of your most beloved. He was just too handsome and charming for his own good, cute and sweet and always gentleman with you. His uncontrollable dark curls and round glasses gave him this boyish appeal that you couldn’t help but fall for. His voice is smooth and comforting, his eyes a mesmerising hazel, his lips a pretty shape—

“Hey!” snapping out of your daze, you turn to your co-worker in shock.

“Wh-what?”

She smirks and wiggles her brows at you, “I knew you had a thing for him,”

“Oh shush Leona!” you huff and fold your arms but burn hotter in the cheeks when she laughs at you. 

“No need to deny it, I can see why you’re so head over heels~”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” making your way over, you playfully nudge her side as you plant yourself beside her and help with the cupcake decorations. 

Gasping, Leona grasps at her chest in mock offence, “I never believed you were that kind of boss! I was tricked—!” her mock ramblings were cut off with another nudge to her side that sent the both of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What should we do with all this?” you ask with a huff, staring in disappointment at all the leftovers in your display cases. Most would only end up in the trash and it broke your heart to see such goodies go to waste. 

“Why don’t you donate them at the local police station or fire department?” Leona suggests with a smile as she wipes down surfaces, “The fire department isn’t too far from here so you can go there first and do the police station on another day we have extra leftovers,”

Smiling brightly, you nod and get to work, “Brilliant idea Leona! How come I’ve never thought of that before?” 

“Maybe because you’re too busy all the time?” with a light-hearted pout, she faces you and presses on about how you need to consider yourself as a priority for once and actually go home on time. She had a point; the bakery was consuming your life. But you worked hard on the things that mattered to you and that was always a trait you were proud of. Every day you return home with pride and fulfilment in your heart; you loved that feeling despite the ache in your limb. Sighing, your enthusiasm slows considerably but you keep on packing up a random selection of baked goods, “Just think about it at least, boss,” Leona comes up behind you and gives you a quick but heartfelt hug, “we want you to be our boss forever so you have to stay healthy,” just like she always does, she brings a smile to your lips and slowly helps you with packing up the rest. 

With the bakery closed up, you head out with your packaged leftovers piled high in the passenger seat of your car and wave goodbye to Leona before pulling away. She was right in saying that the fire station wasn’t too far, it was a short five-minute drive from your bakery with parking close by too. 

It was a little unnerving. You had never done this before. And, even though you knew there was nothing wrong with doing this, your nerves still caused a stir in your chest and stomach at the thought of facing such brave and dedicated workers. However, it was that simple thought that pushed you forward. These men and women deserved free baked goodies and more for all of their hard work, there was no need to be shy about it. Balancing the stacked packages in your arms, you push the front door open with your back and carefully turn around as you step into the space. 

“Whoa, you need help with those?” someone calls from your left and you turn to see a handsome brunette, standing tall with an almost invisible dusting of freckles on his nose and a faint scar across his cheek and jaw. 

“Good afternoon!” you chirp happily and sheepishly accept his kind assistance, “I— umm, I wanted to give you guys some of the baked goods from my bakery. We made a little too much today,”

He grins widely as he appraises the tall stack of packages before turning to you with gratefulness in his eyes, “So that’s what smells so delicious,” the two of you share a laugh, “Thank you so much for this, it’s very kind of you,” a warm heat coats your cheeks as you shyly wave off his praise, which he shakes his head at discreetly but still maintains his happy grin, “come,” he tilts his head to one direction, “lets go feed everyone,” 

Remus introduces himself as he leads you down a hallway to the lounge room, where he suspected most of his colleagues congregated to. When you give your name in return, he tilts his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Oh nothing,” he chuckles softly, “I just thought it sounded familiar,” you had questions but shrugged and shrugged them off as unimportant when the two of you finally made it into the lounge area. Entering the space, you see the firemen scattered around the wide room, a group were playing cards around a table with several spectators, one or two were reading a book while another small group stood by a small kitchenette with steaming mugs, chatting between themselves. 

“Remus!” a dark haired man with a visible neck tattoo walks up from where he stood observing the card game, just so he could sling his arm over the brunette’s broad shoulders, “Who’s our cute guest?”

Remus introduces you and the purpose of your visit but his voice slowly fades into the background as soon as you meet eyes with a very familiar pair of hazel pools. 

“James?” blinking in surprise, you tilt your head and observe the man in his fireman uniform, minus the heavy jacket, leaving him in a black compression shirt to showcase his muscles. It made your cheeks heat up again but hotter. You had no idea how brawny he was with his soft charm and sweet face. But this was a very pleasant surprise. 

The man in question stands up, staring at you as if in a trance and makes his way over as Remus and his raven-haired friend step away with devious grins on their faces. They weren’t the only ones however, everybody else in the room looked on with a similar grin stretching across their lips, slightly leaning forward in their interest. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he sounds like he’s choking on air, breathless and in complete disbelief at the sight of you. 

“I uh– there were some leftover goodies at the bakery so I thought I could give them to you guys…as a thank you for all your good work,” you admit softly, staring up at him with timid eyes and watching with a gradually racing heart as a toothy grin takes over his features. His eyes sparkled with mirth under the fluorescent light and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. How does he do that? 

“You’re really too kind,” and so perfect James wanted to finish, ignorant to his friends’ snickering. Please be mine! It was a desperate wish and one that he had been making for a long time but he needed to keep his cool. He understands how overbearing and clingy he could be at times and didn’t want to frighten you.  

“You guys deserve it,” you return and silently hold up your packages with a smile. Happily, he takes the load and leads you to a table where he helps spread them out for his friends and colleagues to take as they please. Everyone around you gushes at the array and sings your praises in between their gratitude for the kind gesture. Amongst all the chatter, you also manage to hear soft whisperings that didn’t quite fit the rest of the words at the forefront of surrounding conversations. 

“That’s the cute baker Jamesie has been gushing about for months now, huh?”

“Seems so. Finally, we can put a name to the face,”

There was some laughter, “He looks like a love sick puppy,”

From the corner of your eye, you observe James and the goofy grin on his face, trapped in a daze as he stares down at you with adoring eyes and a soft blush on his cheeks. In your head, you make a mental note to visit the fire department more often. 

A/N : it just feels right that James is a firefighter, right? i'm not the only one who thinks this? nevertheless, i hopefully managed to convince you lovelies otherwise hehehe~

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @fortheeeefics @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[serpentandlily]

Hi!!! Could you do fluffy Rhys x reader where whenever she around Rhys, she can just relax and turn her mind off? Like she doesn’t have to be alert for everything and Rhys is more than happy because he likes how she trusts him enough to just relax and let down her walls around him.

Hopefully that makes sense I just woke up and my brain is not fully working right now lol🫡

Hope your doing well💜💜

This was such a cute idea! This is more of a drabble but I hope you like it!

Head in the Clouds:

Rhys x Reader Drabble

+++

“Where’s your coat?”

You smiled at Rhys, your mate and husband, as you bounded down the stairs in your house two at a time. His violet eyes looked back at you, shining with adoration and love, causing your heart to jump in your chest.

“My what?” You breathed out, coming to a stop in front of him. His lips twitched as he looked down at you.

“Your coat, darling,” he repeated. “It’s snowing outside.”

Your gaze shifted to the window by the door, now remembering that it was and had been snowing outside the past few days—the first sign of winter.

“Oh,” you said, sheepishly. “I forgot it upstairs.”

Rhys chuckled before grabbing a coat off the rack near the door, a coat he kept there because he knew his mate was oftentimes a bit forgetful when she was around him. But it never bothered him. He liked taking care of you.

It was a sign of trust, one he didn’t take for granted. He knew how hard you worked and he loved that about you, but he also loved this side of you. The side that could just relax around him.

“Come here,” Rhys said, holding out the coat for you. He helped you slip your arms through it before tugging it on you. “One more thing.”

He grabbed a small snow hat, one with a little puff ball on top. He pulled it over your head before flicking the little puff ball with a smile. You wrinkled your nose at him causing another small chuckle to leave his lips.

Rhys brushed your hair over your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now you’re all ready. Shall we?”

He opened the door for you, smacking you on the butt as you passed him making you yelp. You shot him an amused glare but let him take your hand in his as he guided you towards the city streets.

"Did you eat breakfast this morning?"

Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling the hunger growling in your stomach. Normally you had breakfast with Rhys but this morning he had been stuck in a meeting with some local traders. You looked up at him, shaking your head.

"No, I forgot," you muttered, cheeks red.

You couldn’t help it. Whenever you were home and around Rhys, it was like your brain shut off. You knew Rhys would take care of you and you liked being taken care of for once. Your normal job usually caused you a lot of stress and it was nice to let someone else take charge, especially if that someone was your mate.

Rhys shook his head with a soft smile. "What are we going to do with you?" His tone was light, teasing. "Well, let's go get you something to eat. Can't have you running around the city on an empty stomach, can we, darling?"

You let Rhys take you to a small bakery near your house, one of your favorite places to go for pastries. You skipped inside, eyes scanning the display cases that housed all the delicious looking food, from fruit tarts to coffee cakes and other finger foods. You were too busy absentmindedly meandering down the small bakery to notice that the worker had asked what you wanted. You vaguely heard Rhys and the worker talking to each other, but paid them no mind.

A few minutes later, Rhys grabbed onto your elbow, catching your attention. "Let's go, darling."

Your brows furrowed as he escorted you outside, the bell over the door ringing as you exited the shop. "But we didn't get anything—"

Rhys held out a little white paper bag, cutting you off. You let out a soft, "Oh!", before grabbing it from him and opening it up to peer inside. "A glowberry tart! My—"

"Favorite," Rhys finished your sentence causing you to smile up at him. "I know, darling."

"Thank you, Rhys," you sang out, eagerly grabbing the small pastry and taking a small bite.

"Of course, my love," Rhys said, kissing the side of your head as he pulled you close to him with an arm around your waist. “Now, I believe we have some people to buy gifts for.”

You happily let Rhys escort you further into the city, eager to spend the rest of the day with him.

[fromasgardandback]

The Time You Met In A Cafe // Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader

•

masterlist | oneshots

Corroded Coffin was passing through your town on their nationwide tour. Their tour bus needed a repair, deep clean, and the boys needed their own space, even if it was for a few nights.  They each needed time away from one another. It was hard enough being cooped up in a tour bus, but to carry their stresses together created tensions higher than the Empire State Building. Eddie woke up early one morning, deciding to go for a run alongside the soundside of the coastal town, when he came across a bakery across the street. He walked around a few of the shops looking for an entrance when he saw the beautiful building with flowers and a chalkboard sign out front. The moment the aroma of sweet treats and coffee filled his nose, he saw you. The morning sun was glowing beautifully on your face.

You worked at the local coffee shop and bakery. Every morning, you would wake up early to help the bakers prepare for the day and deep clean the coffee machines. You had your normal customers, and the occasional tourist and vacation families in the off-season months. The early May air brought a slight chill with warmer afternoons. These were perfect days for the beach. Until a particular curly-headed man walked in and took your breath away. The gust of a beach breeze followed as the door closed, causing his hair to blow in a cinematic dream sequence way. You swore you saw some ethereal glow around him like a prayer being answered.

“Oh, Y/N. We have a customer, do you mind taking him?” Your co-worker Ashley gave you a knowing look and a wink as she walked towards the back kitchen. Your heart started to race quicker than when he had walked in. You grabbed a pair of clear gloves as you walked over.

“Hi, welcome. What can I get for you? Or do you need a minute? That’s fine, if you do, just let me know. I mean, I’m the only one out here working, so of course you’d let me know. Sorry, I have a rambling problem… I don’t know when to stop. Could you tell?” You’re mentally kicking yourself for the word salad that just left your mouth. Of course, this is how your first interaction with a hot guy goes. Secretly, you wished he were a one-time customer so you wouldn’t have to relieve this embarrassment again.

Eddie found your rambling adorable. It gave him the confidence to talk to you, knowing you were just as awkward as he was. He wanted to keep talking to you, so he did the only thing he knew how. Ask about everything on the menu and what your opinions are about it. 

“No, I couldn’t tell. Just assumed you were friendly. Nothing wrong with being friendly, right?” He winked, which made it ten times harder to keep standing.

“I can’t decide what to get. What do you recommend? I mean, these sweet treats alone, I could purchase the whole display case. But up on the board there are savory items and well… I can’t say no to that either.” Eddie widened his smile, showing his deep dimples. You could’ve sworn you saw his chocolate button eyes sparkle like in those cheesy movies.

“Uhm.. haha. Well, sweet treats first. The fritters, sticky buns, and turnovers are incredible. As for savory items, I’d have to say the spinach croissant, breakfast sandwich, and the sausage gravy & biscuits. But really, anything you get, you won’t be disappointed.” You hid your hand behind your back to pinch your thigh to keep from passing out.

“I’ll get one of each. Oh, and your favorite coffee, too. Whichever you think is best.” Eddie smiled again before pulling out his wallet. You smiled back, packaging and bagging the items before ringing up his order so he could pay. “It’s going to be a couple of minutes to cook the sausage gravy. I’ll make that coffee for you now.” After the past 10 minutes, your heart stopped beating out of your chest. The energy between the two of you helped calm down the nerves and create a comfortable feeling being around him.

“I’ve talked to you this long and still haven’t caught your name.” Eddie leaned against the coffee bar top.

“Y/N.” You smiled, handing over the coffee.

“Y/N…” Eddie said your name like it was a beautiful, unknown tropical flower. “I’m Eddie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Eddie… It’s nice to meet you, too.” You smiled with him staring into each other's eyes with pure adoration, you didn’t notice the line at the door, and his food getting cold.

[shycoconutt]

papamin au, nanami is a bakery owner

nanami kento, bakery owner, is familiar with itadori-san, an old man who comes into his shop every morning to order a cornet and black coffee.

he becomes familiar with his grandson, yuji, when the small boy accompanies him one day begging for something sweet with strawberries. he watches as the boy’s eyes glow, face and tiny hands pressed against the glass of the display case. he leaves holding his grandpa’s hand with a belly full of strawberry cake roll.

from that day forward, the old man continues to come with yuji in tow, and nanami finds himself testing more strawberry-infused recipes.

two years go by, and nanami grows used to their routine. everyday, except special holidays when the bakery is closed, the pair arrive around 7 a.m., order their food, and sit next to each other while the old man reads his newspaper. yuji, a young boy ever so restless, often runs around the store greeting new customers and asking nanami silly questions.

“what’s your favorite color, nanamin?”

nanami raises an eyebrow at the boy, turning his attention to him after wiping the counter.

“yellow.”

that answer seems to appease him, as he giggles and runs away back to his table. before leaving, the old man turns and gives nanami a curt nod, the firm look in his eye sending a shiver down his spine.

after that day, they don’t come back. nanami can’t be upset, as it is to be expected. people move, find new bakeries to frequent. he’s become used to the amount of faces that come and go, some return and some don't. it’s normal, comforting even. but he can’t shake this feeling in the pit of his stomach that something is wrong.

with a surprisingly quick online search after closing up for the day, nanami discovers that the old man has passed away. he was eighty-two and left behind a grandson, yuji itadori, only four.

the ‘sorry we’re closed’ sign jolts aggressively as he slams and locks the door. the frigid, spring air causes him to tighten his scarf around his neck as he walks through the empty streets. it’s late, he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he walks.

after an inquiry at the local convenience store and a couple searches on the map application on his phone, nanami stands outside of the nearest orphanage.

fist held out to knock on the door, he freezes. what is he thinking? he can’t possibly be considering this. adoption? a 28-year-old, single man on a baker’s salary adopting a child he barely knows. it’s absurd.

he needs to sleep on this before he does anything rash. shaking his head and chuckling softly at his rashness, nanami steps and turns away from the door to leave.

that's the plan, however, until it flings open.

“sir, can I help you? you’re setting off our security cameras and, frankly, you’re kind of freaking me out. I won’t hesitate to call the authorities.”

wide-eyed with an apology ready to go, he turns back slowly with his hands raised in surrender to not cause any more panic.

“I am so sorry, I was just—”

“nanamin!”

hurrying footsteps pound the hardwood floor of the entryway behind the woman, and suddenly a fluff of pink hair flashes by her hip in an impressive display of speed. before the boy can make it any further, she grabs him by his shirt collar and pulls him to her side.

“woah, woah, woah there, yuji, slow down,” she chastises, “we don’t run out of the building, especially at night.”

the boy looks up at her with apologetic puppy eyes, “I’m sorry.”

the woman’s stern look falters slightly, and she moves to brush the hair away from his forehead. “do you know this gentleman, yuji?”

the boy starts jumping excitedly, looking towards him now. “yeah! this is nanamin! he makes me strawberry stuff!”

looking up at him confused, nanami clarifies, “I own a bakery in town that he visited frequently... with his grandfather.”

“ah,” she responds, flashing him a knowing look, “you do look familiar. you own a bakery here in sendai?"

"yes, ma'am."

“can we let him in, please?” yuji pouts, obviously restless.

“how about we ask him to come back tomorrow at a more appropriate time? besides, it is past your bedtime.”

“but—”

“mm-mmm, no buts. now go brush your teeth."

yuji's puppy eyes flash to nanami now, looking at him expectedly. hurt pangs in nanami's chest, recognizing that it must be nice for the boy to see a familiar face after everything that's happened. nanami can only assume all the pain that he has gone through at such a young age.

kneeling down to meet him at his eye level, nanami gives him a soft and sincere look. "I will be back tomorrow, itadori-kun. I will even bring you and this nice woman some fresh pancakes with strawberries if you go and get ready for bed right now, okay?"

with the promise of pancakes and another visit, yuji flashes a grin and quickly turns to bound up the stairs while yelling behind him, "don't forget the whipped cream!"

that causes him to chuckle, and nanami promises, "I won't forget."

after some more apologies, an exchange of information, and a swift goodbye, nanami finds himself walking back to his apartment.

he doesn't know exactly what implored him to visit the boy, but he knows he can't leave this alone. yuji deserves what is best for him, and if nanami is his best option, which he thinks he might be, then he will fulfill the role of caretaker for him. because no boy's spirit deserves to be crushed that young. pain and suffering are for adults.

the next day, after pancakes and an intense interview with a background check, nanami and yuji walk side by side, the boy's backpack flung over nanami's shoulder.

"oh! nanamin! I almost forgot," yuji gasps, "can I have my backpack?"

nanami leans over and hands it to the boy, who quickly zips it open and rummages through the contents. finally, the boy grabs a slightly crumpled piece of paper and presents it high in the air.

“this is for you!”

confused, nanami takes the piece of paper reluctantly, smoothing it gently before examining it. it takes awhile for nanami to register the artwork, coming to the conclusion that it’s just as it looks: a bunch of scribbled yellow lines filling the page.

“I drew it for you!,” yuji proclaims, “you know because yellow is your favorite color.”

nanami’s hand slowly rises to cover the stupid grin that’s plastered on his face. he mentally decides not to acknowledge the thin blur at the bottom of his vision. looking down at the boy now, nanami feels a warmth inside his chest that he’s never felt before.

“thank you, itadori-kun. I’ll cherish it forever.”

after many growing pains and bouts of self-doubt, yuji’s artwork, now framed and displayed in the bakery, serves as a reminder of why nanami decided to become a father that day, or, rather, how yuji decided for him.

a/n: this fic is inspired by artwork from @mottirinekochan329p4874 & @riritzuu. please go check out their work and show some love. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

[merrybloomwrites]

Been Here for Days

Summary: You never thought about the dangers of dating a celebrity. But when you get taken by a man who's after Harry's money you're faced with the jarring reality that you're not as safe as you thought.

Word Count: 3.7K

CW: kidnapping, drugs, violence, attempted sa, hospitals

AN: I've read a few mafia AU stories where reader gets kidnapped because of Harry's dark world. So it gave me the idea for a non-AU story in which the reader gets kidnapped, simply for being the partner of a famous and wealthy popstar. I've had this partially written for a while but it seemed fitting to include in Whumptober so I finally finished it up.

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Dating Harry Styles came with a certain level of attention. This wasn’t a surprise to you, and you learned how to deal with it fairly quickly. Harry also did a lot to protect you and try to keep you out of the public eye as much as possible. 

Whenever he did get overprotective you’d remind him that it’s okay, you knew what you signed up for. But he always reiterated that his personal life should be private, and he didn’t want people trying to get more information about the two of you than he chooses to share.

One thing that’s obvious is that no one really cares about you. Not as an individual. They care that you’re Harry’s girlfriend. There’s not a doubt in your mind that if the two of you ever broke up, you’d never have photos posted of you again. 

And you’re fine with that too. It doesn’t bother you that you’re just seen as the girlfriend, mainly because it means people don’t care to go digging and finding facts about your life. Your family has been left alone for the most part, and you can still go out alone without being bothered.

Occasionally an individual will show deep interest in you, and you’ll find a social media account dedicated to you. Sometimes it’s a fan page, sometimes it’s a hate page. You let them be, since they’re still only posting things that are already released to the public. Even these ‘more enthusiastic’ people aren’t really crossing boundaries, since they’re not trying to find private photos or follow you to get photos of their own. 

Or so you thought.

Since spring began, and the weather turned nice, you’ve been making sure to walk to work each day. Ironically, you’d gotten a job in a local bakery. You wanted a steady job of your own while Harry isn’t touring, and this seemed like a perfect choice. You love getting up early to bake and decorate what’s needed for the day. It’s calm, and therapeutic. You mostly work in the back, doing the actual baking, but occasionally you fill in up front at the register. 

Each morning you walk to work as the sun is just rising, and you get home by early afternoon. This gives you time to run errands, do some chores around the house, or just take some time to relax before Harry gets home. He’s been working more in the studio recently, but still makes it a point to get back by 5PM in order to spend a couple of hours with you every day.

You cook a meal together, talk about your days, and often put on a movie and cuddle. It’s the simple things that bring the two of you joy, just getting to end your days together. 

You wake up on Monday morning, and it starts just like the rest. You get dressed, kiss the cheek of a still sleeping Harry, and begin your walk. You have an odd feeling, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. You were up a bit later than usual the night before, enjoying some adult activities with Harry, so maybe you’re just a bit tired.

The same feeling is there on the way home. But you’d had a tough day at work with someone calling out, leaving you to try and continue baking while also working the register. 

This feeling continues the whole week, and you continue to make excuses as to why you’re so anxious during your commute each day. But when the next week is the same, you begin to grow wary. Finally, on Thursday of the second week you realize that it feels as though you’re being followed. This thought does freak you out, and you plan to talk to Harry that night at home.

But you don’t make it home.

The weather on your walk back to the house is perfect, if not even a little warm. But you don’t feel it. You feel chilled, and nervous, and you’re glancing over your shoulder every two seconds. You’re mad at yourself, berating yourself for not calling Harry to have him pick you up. You’d convinced yourself it would be fine, and you didn’t want to bother him. But now as you walk alone, sensing another person might be following you, that logic seems incredibly stupid. 

As you’re pulling out your phone to call Harry you hear a noise in the bush next to you. Instinctively, you turn towards the sound. Everything happens so quickly, yet as though it’s in slow motion. A man rushes at you, covering your mouth so you can’t scream and using his other arm to keep you still. 

You try to fight back, but he’s bigger, stronger. Despite your best efforts, he still manages to get a needle into you. At first you feel the pinch of the needle, and then you feel nothing at all, and your world goes black. 

When you wake up, you’re disoriented. You’re in a bed, and while it’s comfy, it’s not your own. The bedroom you’re in is completely unrecognizable. Slowly, your memories come back. There was a man. Who’d probably been following you for weeks, tracking your schedule, and he’s now taken you. 

And not to some basement, or a warehouse or something creepy that you’d see in movies. No, he took you to his home. To a bed. And that feels even worse. You quickly assess your body, and are relieved to find that you’re still in your same clothes, and all you can feel are a couple minor scrapes and bruises, likely from trying to fight the man. 

There’s a window in the room so you get up and peek out. It’s dark, indicating a lot of time has passed. You can’t see anything outside, no other houses, and hope it’s just because of how dark it is. Because the idea that there’s nothing nearby is causing you to panic even more than you already are. 

You check the door, but of course it’s locked from the outside. The window won’t open either. You’re trapped. 

There is a bathroom attached to the bedroom, but no way to escape from there either. It does mean you can take a sip of water and splash some water on your face which helps calm you briefly. 

Taking deep breaths you begin to pace. Your mind spins, trying to come up with escape scenarios, and hoping that someone is figuring out where you are so they can come get you. The sky turns pink outside and you check your surroundings again. 

There’s nothing but a large open field. No biggie. Maybe there’s civilization out the front of the house. There’s no way you’re locked in a house with a crazy person out in the middle of nowhere. 

Tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. There’s got to be a way out of here. A way back home. A way to Harry. 

You’re left alone for what feels like hours. You’re a little hungry, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment. 

Finally, the door opens. You stand your ground in the middle of the room, not wanting to back yourself into a corner for whatever is about to happen. 

Taking a deep breath, you stand up straight, not showing any weakness to the person who took you. 

“Well good morning sweetheart,” he says. The pleasantries, the nickname, it’s all nauseating to you, but you keep your expression unreadable. 

“My name is Roy. I’ve been watching you and your boyfriend. You make a very cute little couple.”

“What do you want with me?” You ask, ignoring how violated you feel at the confirmation that this strange man has been following you. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Money. I want money. Harry seems to be quite devoted to you. I bet he’ll pay anything to get you back.” 

And it is obvious, really. It shouldn’t come as a surprise at all that people would want Harry’s money. But you never expected anyone to literally kidnap you for it. 

“Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure you have food and water and a safe place to stay. Might rough you up a bit, maybe have some fun,” he says as he steps forward and runs a finger along your cheek, causing you to recoil and bump into the bed behind you. 

He laughs at that, seeming to enjoy your discomfort, and then adds, “Of course that may be some good incentive for your boyfriend. I’m sure he’d hate to see anything bad happen to you.”

Your fear amps up a notch hearing this but you keep your emotions off of your face. You’re determined to stay strong throughout this whole ordeal. This man does not get to overpower you, doesn’t get to see you break like you’re sure he wants. 

He steps back a moment later and says, “Just need a quick picture, you know proof of life, proof I have you, all that.” Before you can register what he’s saying he takes out an old camera and takes your picture, the flash stunning you. 

“I brought you a sandwich and some water. It’s all sealed so you know I haven’t done anything to it. Wouldn’t want you starving yourself or dehydrating,” he says as he hands you the items. You take them, confirming they are in fact unopened. 

“Eat. I’ll be back later,” he says before stepping out of the room. You hear the definitive click of the lock but you still double check, just in case it’s open. 

Of course it isn’t, but you had to try. After examining the food to confirm it hasn’t been tampered with you take a tentative bite. It’s good, and that first bite kick starts your appetite so you quickly eat the rest. 

Roy comes back hours later to drop off dinner. He again leaves you alone to eat, and you’re starting to get lulled into a false sense of security. You think that maybe it won’t be so bad. If he’s just after money, then he might just leave you alone and then he’ll get paid and you’ll be home. 

But of course it can’t be that simple. 

Later that evening he comes back in.

“I’m bored,” he says. Just two words shouldn’t be so bone chilling, but you understand the implication. He’s bored and you’re at his mercy. He’s already drugged and kidnapped you. There’s not telling what else he’s capable of. 

By the time he leaves again you're bruised, and there’s blood running from your split lip. He’d thrown you around, hit you hard enough to send you to the ground where he kicked you repeatedly. It was terrifying and painful. 

But you admit to yourself that it could’ve been worse. You somehow convince yourself that it wasn’t so bad, that you’ll recover quickly once you get home.

After another day and a half with Roy, you’re doubting that will happen. You’re doubting you’ll recover. You’re doubting that you’ll get home. The situation has turned from terrible to terrifying. 

You’ve spent three nights in this room, including the one you were mostly unconscious for. Roy’s violence has grown, and now he seems to be changing plans again. 

“These bruises look lovely on you,” he says. It’s creepy as fuck, and indicates that whatever happens next will be awful. 

“While the violence has been fun, there are other ways to bruise your skin. I think I’ll do that today instead.”

After days of beatings you’re too tired to fight back. You lay there crying as he climbs on top of you and pins you down. His mouth goes to your neck and he begins to suck a mark there. Bile rises in your throat and it takes everything in you not to vomit at the feeling of him so close to you, touching you in this way. 

You’re wondering how you’re going to survive what’s sure to come next when there’s a noise. Suddenly the door slams open and nearly a dozen people enter the room. At first you’re terrified that they’re here to hurt you as well, but then Roy is pulled off of you and handcuffed and you realize that they’re police officers there to save you. 

One comes and talks to you, reassures you that everything is going to be okay, but still, you’re scared. It’s too much. Too much noise, and commotion, and people. You’re overwhelmed.

And then one more person enters the room. He looks different, more frazzled with a longer beard than you’ve ever seen. But as he crouches beside the bed and holds your hand between his, there’s no denying that Harry is here. 

There’s a darkness that’s been pulling at you for a while, and now that Harry’s here and you’re safe, you finally let it pull you under. 

You wake up in an uncomfortable bed wearing an itchy gown. There are bandages wrapped on various parts of your body and tubes and wires attached to you. Everything is still hazy, but you know there’s a hand holding yours. 

You quickly and clumsily pull away, not wanting anyone to touch you right now. 

Slowly the world around you refocuses, and you realize the person next to you is Harry. As much as you want his comfort, you can’t bear to have anyone’s skin touching yours. Not when it only makes you think of Roy and what he did. And what he was planning to do. 

Over the next few hours people come and go from your room. Nurses, doctors, detectives, all sharing information and asking you questions. 

But you say nothing. You don’t respond. You lay there, watching with a blank expression. Someone brings in food for dinner, and you eat just enough to make them happy before pushing away the tray and curling further into your blankets. 

The next day is much the same. They bring in a trauma counselor and though she’s a kind woman, you still say nothing. 

And it’s not that you’re upset with, or mad at these people. They’ve done nothing to you. But there’s this block in your mind right now. You’re so exhausted from the whole ordeal that it’s taking everything in you just to eat food and drink water and get yourself to and from the bathroom. 

Another two days pass and your doctor is in the room talking to Harry. He tried speaking to you but still you’re unable to find your voice. 

“Medically, she’s well enough to go home,” the doctor says. “Her injuries are healing well enough that I’m ready to discharge her.” 

You perk up a bit at this news. You miss home, miss the big comfy bed with the big windows. You miss your garden, and how peaceful it is. Hearing that you might be able to go back to your house with Harry has you more alert than you’ve been in days.

But then the doctor adds, “However, I’m concerned by her mental state. She still hasn’t said anything, and she barely lets anyone touch her. It’s important that her bandages get changed regularly and I’m worried that she won’t allow you to help with that. So until that changes she’ll have to stay here.”

Your heart drops at that. The despair you feel has you finally breaking through and suddenly you say, “No. Home.”

They both look at you and Harry quickly moves to the side of your bed. 

“What was that, baby?” he asks. He looks hopeful and you know that he’s just happy to hear you speak again.

“Home. Please,” you state. It’s hard to talk, full sentences being something you can’t do yet. But you get your point across and Harry looks at the doctor to see what he has to say about this advancement. 

Your doctor comes closer as well and asks, “Will you be okay with Harry helping you at home? He’ll have to touch you to properly clean and bandage your wounds.”

You nod, but you know that alone won’t convince them. Even though it takes a lot of courage to do this, you reach out your hand and grab Harry’s. He gasps at the contact and quickly laces your fingers with his. It feels foreign, and you hate that you no longer feel comfortable holding hands with the person who used to be your safe place. 

Apparently that was the right move, though, because you’re discharged by the end of the day. You get wheeled out, and Harry helps you get from the chair into the car that’s there for you. There’s still an overwhelming part of you that wants to flinch away from his touch, but you tell yourself that he needs this. He needs to be able to help you. 

On the drive, Harry informs you of the updated security the two of you will have. It’s weird to know that there will be people watching the house at all times, but you admit to yourself that it makes you feel better. 

Once you’re finally home you breathe a sigh of relief. And then you get to your room and the exhaustion hits again. 

You sit down on the bed and Harry moves through the house, doing all kinds of things that he thinks will help you. His nervousness is obvious, and you want to tell him you’re okay, that he should relax.

When he focuses on you again he asks, “What can I get for you? What do you need?”

“Bed.” 

“You’re tired? You want to get ready for bed?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, we can do that. Let me get you some clothes and then we can go brush our teeth together. And I’ll bring up some water and maybe some food in case you wake up hungry since you didn’t eat too much dinner before we left the hospital,” he rambles. It seems that he’s trying to make up for your lack of words by speaking more than usual. 

Harry grabs the clothes and walks over to you. It’s clear that he’s about to help you up and so you quickly stand and walk to the bathroom before he has the chance to touch you. You hate seeing the pain in his eyes at your rejection, but you’re just not ready yet. 

After getting ready you climb into bed. It’s so soft, so comfortable, and so familiar that you quickly fall asleep. 

You wake up with a jolt, your heart racing as the images of your dream race through your mind. The worst part is that it’s not just a made up nightmare, but the memories of the nightmare you actually lived. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks and he reaches out a hand to comfort you. He quickly pulls it back when he sees the way you eye it with fear and trepidation. 

“I can go,” he says. “If you’re uncomfortable with me in the bed I can stay in the next room.”

Immediately you panic at the thought of him going anywhere. “No. Stay. Please. Just, don’t touch,” you reply.

He nods and the two of you sit there in bed next to each other. You begin to cry and Harry fights back tears of his own. 

After a few minutes Harry says, “They wouldn’t let me pay the ransom.”

You turn to him, confused for a moment. And then you realize that he’s explaining why it took so long to get you out. 

“When I got the message from…him. I showed it to the detectives who were here and told them I’d pay immediately so I could get you back. But they wouldn’t let me. Said it would set a precedent and put you in even more danger. Make you a target. That if I listened to this crazy person’s demands and gave him what he wanted, more people might try to take you to get money as well. I hated knowing that they were right. That I couldn’t do the one thing in my power to help you without making life riskier for you. And I hated that you being with me put you in that position in the first place. Y/N, I am so sorry that this happened to you, that it happened because of me.” 

His voice breaks and you sit for another moment absorbing what he’d just said. You didn’t realize before, but now you know that you were mad at him. You were mad that it took so long for them to get you. But everything he said makes sense to you.

And as horrible as the experience was for you, it was awful for him as well. He looks just as exhausted as you are, and though he didn’t deal with the pain and terror that you did, he spent days filled with anxiety and fear and guilt. 

You lay down on your back, looking up and trying to silently send him a message. Once he understands he lays down as well. Slowly, one inch at a time, you shift closer to him. Finally, you turn and lay your hand on his chest. He brings up his hand and places it gently on top of yours.

The touch no longer feels foreign to you. It finally feels comforting again. Building up courage, you move again, lifting your head until you can place it on his chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate, but quickly wraps his free arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him.

For a moment you panic, feeling trapped by him. But then you take a deep breath, inhaling Harry’s distinct smell, and you relax into his hold. 

“I forgive you,” you say quietly. Harry lets out a sob and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. After a moment he controls his tears and regulates his breathing. 

“I love you. So much,” he says.

“I love you too,” you reply.

You know that this isn’t the end. There’s a long road of recovery ahead of you. But being able to lean on Harry, to trust him fully again, you know that you’re going to be okay. He’s going to be there, he’ll help you on the bad days and celebrate the good. 

He begins to quietly sing, filling the room with his familiar and comforting voice. He lulls you back to sleep, but stays up for a while just watching you, reveling in the feeling of having you back in his arms, home where you belong. Safe and sound once again.

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AN: Thank you for reading!

[ashtavula]

Hihihi! Could I please request a royalty/nobility au with the housewardens? Like them as a dashing Mr. Darcy, if that makes sense.

So, since this is pretty open ended, I'm just going with headcanons on what sort of role they'd have in this au. Though it might be more like an otome au? But if you like it, or want to see more, please don't hesitate to ask!

Royalty AU - The Housewardens

You are the only heir to the throne, and now, you've been given a "simple" task. Find someone to marry before the year is over! Your butler clears his throat, and names some of your potential suitors...

Riddle - The Marquess' Son

-Riddle is the sole child of Marquess and Marchioness Rosehearts. His family is well known for funding medical research, and they're generally well respected. At least, publicly. In private, many nobles whisper about the cruelty of Marchioness Rosehearts, and Riddle's overbearing strictness. Your butler also states that, when your parents announced your eligibility for marriage, she was the very first to put her son's name forward. It makes you think that Riddle had no say in being a candidate.

-Riddle himself is rumored to be at odds with his family, considering his friendship with the local baker, Trey Clover, and other commoners. His mother has publicly denounced the idea that her family mingles with the lower classes, but Riddle continues to be spotted around the bakery regardless. It makes you wonder if he's not quite as strict as the rumors claim...

Leona - The Second Prince

-Leona is the second born prince of a neighboring country. His brother, King Falena, has maintained his country's status quo, but it's becoming rather obvious that Leona doesn't approve of his family's excessive lifestyle while their kingdom's poorest starve. Supposedly, Falena is growing increasingly desperate to marry Leona off to a foreigner so he can be removed from Sunset Savannah's political sphere. Leona's own people talk about him being a lazy, power hungry rebel, and this gives you pause. You haven't heard a single positive thing yet. There must be more to the man than this...

-Your butler goes on to mention that this is merely what your country's spies have found out. According to official correspondence, Leona is a laid back man with a handsome appearance, and a sharp intellect. The sheer difference in those descriptions startles you, and makes you wonder. Who exactly is Prince Leona?

Azul - The Information Broker

-Azul Ashengrotto is the head of the country's biggest information guild. Hiring his Octavinelle Agency is the best way to dig up dirt on anybody, and no one knows just how he acquires that much intelligence. Your parents have listed him as a potential candidate in the hopes that, should you marry him, he would give you access to the wealth of information he has at his fingertips. According to rumors, you must give him something of equal exchange for anything he tells you. You frown as you hear about people selling things like their voices, and their magic to him. He can't be that cruel. Right?

-According to people who have made deals with him, he has a taste for the finer things in life. He'd certainly jump at the opportunity to court you, as you are the heir to the throne. Before your butler can finish, a strange man enters the room. His mismatched eyes gleam as he hands you a letter, stamped with the Octavinelle Agency insignia. The letter is simple, but it sends a chill up your spine. "Your Highness, if you are considering marriage, then please come by my agency. I can tell you anything you wish to know about your suitors, and I'll even waive my usual fees. The only thing I ask in return is for your company. Signed, Azul Ashengrotto." Before you can question the man, he slips out of the parlor. How peculiar...

Kalim - The Merchant Prince

-Your butler clears his throat, and moves on. Next on the list is Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the Al-Asim Trade Company. Merchants under their banner travel far and wide, bringing wondrous things that many people have never seen before. In his country, rich merchants practically become royalty, and Kalim's family is the wealthiest of those families. If you choose him, it will invigorate your country's economy, and your parents approve of this. Also, according to the people who have seen him, he's cheerful and compassionate.

-However, your butler warns that his family has a dark side. In the Scalding Sands, poison is the weapon of choice, and Kalim's life has likely been threatened numerous times. And that his own siblings and cousins are likely his biggest enemies. If you married him, you'd be subjected to the same treatment. You'd constantly have to watch your back, and worry that every sip of wine would be your last. Is that truly a life you wish to lead?

Vil - The Duke

-Vil Schoenheit is the youngest Duke to grace your country's nobility. He's also the fairest. Countless numbers of men and women fawn over his beauty, yet he has rejected every advance that has come his way. This had led to nasty rumors that he has impossible standards, and that his heart must be made of ice. He apparently also has a keen mind, though there are some whispers that he uses that intellect to brew deadly poisons. Who those poisons are meant for, nobody knows.

-His dukedom also contains some of your country's most beautiful locations. Lush forests and thriving apple orchards span his lands, and his people prosper under his rule. However, people do wonder why all of his citizens seem to be good looking, and why nobody seems to oppose him. Is it just a coincidence, or is there a darker reason behind his seemingly perfect dukedom?

Idia - The Inventor

-Idia Shroud is, without a doubt, one of the smartest men in your kingdom. However, his reputation, and several rumors, precede him. He's known for being extremely reclusive, and he's almost never been seen in public. Instead, he trusts an automaton, Ortho, to complete various tasks. And the few times he has been spotted sparked a frenzy of strange rumors. There's talk around the capital that he's been cursed, marked by unholy fire. Your brows furrow. Is he truly one of the candidates for your hand in marriage?

-Aside from the rumors that swirl around him, he's genuinely skilled. Ortho is a completely sentient automaton, and several of his other inventions have changed the average citizen's quality of life for the better. He's the reason your kingdom is more advanced than any other, and that counts for a lot. He's a bit bizarre, but rumors about his supposed "curse" stirs your curiosity.

Malleus - The Briar King

-Your butler shivers, and mentions King Malleus in a hushed tone. He is the King of Briar Valley, a strange land that nobody has ever actually seen. There are old tales about his kingdom. Stories that state that the land is populated by the fae, and that their king is not truly a fae, but a fearsome dragon. These tales claim that any being who opposes the Briar King will be incinerated in a plume of dragon fire, and that he demands complete loyalty from his subjects. As you begin to wonder why your parents would give you such an option, you get your answer. For the first time, Malleus has left his kingdom, and is visiting yours. This might be your kingdom's only chance to forge an alliance with the powerful, mysterious fae.

-There is a bit more information than just wild tales. According to your butler, an odd fae visited the castle yesterday, and told your parents a bit more about Malleus. This fae stated that his king was not quite as intimidating as the stories claim, and that Malleus yearned for companionship more than anything else. Your gaze softened. You, as the heir to a kingdom, knew that a royal life could be a lonely one. If he also felt the ache of solitude, then, he surely couldn't be a monster, like the people say.

Now that you've heard about your potential suitors, only one question remains...

Who will you choose?

[loverslodge]

invisible string

summery: you have married someone you have never seen, let alone met. but then you meet someone you fall in love with.

pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

warnings: arranged marriage au, forced marriage au, angst, fluff, smut, a minor panic attack scene

A/N: ari levinson is such a bear! i cant keep my thoughts straight around him

“Congratulations! You are now officially married.” the lawyer shakes your hand and starts gathering the paperwork. You scoff and get up from the chair.

The only reason why you did this was because of your mother. She had made her best friend, Aunty Diana, a promise that if she ever had a girl, she would marry her to her son. Which shouldn't have been that bad if that son had bothered to acknowledge you. You were born when he was 10 so naturally, he already had his sets of friends to socialize with. You grew up knowing Aunty Diana but nothing more. You never knew their surname, their job, nothing. All you knew was that they were a very very very rich family. Diana had died last year due to some complications in her operation and your mother died years ago due to childbirth.

You could have avoided the marriage entirely, but conditions popped up, on both ends. They found legal documents signed by their mothers for their children to get married to each other or else. You were never told the or else condition, just shown the legal document from afar. You knew better than to go against a very wealthy family with good lawyers under their belt. Your father had used up all the money you had and had disappeared into thin air, leaving you with debts of dangerous people. You have been successfully avoiding every debt collector by sending them installments but the money was running low.

Today, as you signed the marriage certificate, you also had signed your house up for sale because that was the last valuable asset you had to pay off the debts. Your new husband had left you with a black card with unlimited cash flow but you did not want to associate with them. You knew if you used the money, strings would come attached, they always did. So you took up a job at a local bakery till you applied for big girl jobs. You faced many rejections but you never relented.

The year went by faster. You would often think about the day you got married. Since you were marking on your calendar as the months flew by. You had never seen your husband. Never knew the surname either. Or maybe, you never bothered to look at the name on the paper. He had signed and left before you. Your punctuality got the best of you and you saw him leave from behind. He was huge, beefy. But that didn't matter. You never saw him, or even lived in his house that he so graciously offered. You lived with two roommates in a tiny apartment. It wasn't a lot but the splitting the bills helped pay the proper debt installments. Lucky for you that bakery owners were nice enough to offer you actual cooked food so you had no grocery bills. All you knew about your husband was he had left the country for a new business venture. You were so okay with this arrangement. His black card still snug amongst your tattered money, unused.

Just 6 months before your 1 year anniversary, you got a job as a receptionist at the Levinson Hotels & Co. and the pay was really good. Everything was covered and you also requested a small room to stay since your roommates were moving out and you'd rather not stay in that pest riddled apartment for long. So you moved and started working. You would also visit your old bakery often and indulge in your favorite pastries. Your life was turning better and you had almost paid your debts. Keyword being almost. But you were fairly positive that you'll reach there and then the job will provide more for you than just debt money.

…………………………….

You were running late today. Not because you became lazy by living right in the motel, but because one of the bakery owners had an accident and you were the emergency contact. You had missed the morning meeting but your colleague promised to catch you up with it. But where was the time? The checking in and out of guests had taken over so much of your time, you forgot to ask and forgot your lunch. You pulled out the chocolate cupcake you had grabbed from the bakery on the way back and began munching on it while completely immersed in the paperworks. It wasn't until you felt a nudge on your side and throat clearing that you looked up to see the beast of a man, staring deep in your soul with an amused smirk on his mouth.

You scramble to stand up and send a few papers flying down. His blue eyes try to pull you in but look down to clear your throat and avoid eye contact. “How may I help you, sir?” You turn on your polite receptionist persona and give a small smile back to him.

“I don't suppose you have a room booked in my name, do you?” the beast- man- man beast- ugh! He asked with the look of amusement on his face.

“And your name?” You look up, waiting for his response.

His eyes widened a little. He never thought he would meet someone who did not know who he was. He was a very famous person after all. “Levinson. Ari Levinson.”

He looks as you type his name and asks to check his ID. He signaled everyone around him to not react and pulled out his passport to you. He watches you work diligently and securely handling the situation. He thought you must've known by now that he is your big boss but seeing you treat him like just another customer, made his heart pull a little. Just a little though. He somehow felt proud that his hotel had hired someone who took their work seriously. And he intended to keep you close more than ever. He knew that now that he is here, back in the country, his rivals will come back to sniff around to poach good employees. He was not letting you go.

“Ah yes! Here you go Mr. Levinson. Here are the keys to your penthouse suite. If you need anything, please press 1 on the phone in your room and someone from the reception will answer your requests. We also have a lovely restaurant with world-class food if you get hungry and if you have any more questions please feel free to ask.” You smile and hand over his ID and keys.

“I will keep all that in mind, Sugar.” He replies in a sultry tone and takes the frosting from your nose on his licking it as he makes his way to the elevator. You're stunned to say the least. No guest had invaded your personal space before. You pick up the tissue and wipe the nose so clean, it turns red from all the rubbing. Nobody reacts to what happened and they give you sideyes. You were used to the jealousy that came with the work but this felt something new. It felt as if everyone were in on something and you were the only clueless. You ignored it. You always do.

Ari reached his suite with ease. Of course he did. That is where he had been staying all these years. It was a registered room in the hotel but it was always under his name. It was his house after all. He sighed and flopped on the sofa while the housekeepers started unpacking his things for him. He could still taste the frosting. Delicious. His mind went back to you. He had never seen you so he assumes you were few of the new ones who were hired in desperation. While he was away, one of his rivals had poached a good amount of his employees, leaving the hotel miserable and vacant. He wanted to know more about you. So he did what a very normal person would do, call his secretary and ask him to bring your details.

Your entire life history was in his hands. He flipped through pages of information. He found out about your debts, your living situations and your employment as well. But there was one thing that left a sour taste in his mouth was your relationship status. You were married. He needed to check on it but when asked his secretary to look into it further, they came up with nothing. No information on the husband and the paperworks were tightly sealed into confidentiality. Whom were you married to?

Ari had thought maybe this was one time thing since you did not know his name but he was intrigued by you. He saw you out and about in the hotel, greeting and smiling at people. He saw through your fake smiles. He knew that was a professional smile. You were on his mind 24/7 and he didn't mind. He made it a routine to call the reception and ask things from you. He loved listening to your voice. Even though it was a very professional tone, just hearing you made his day. Every time he heard your voice or even saw you, his heart fluttered. Same went for you. You felt a tug on your heart every time you heard his baritone on the phone. You knew, some of his requests were ridiculous and he did that only to talk to you and couldn't stop that. You knew that consorting with guests is wrong but you couldn't help it. You also knew that you were married and you were forbidden from having another man in your life but you couldn't help it. You still had 4 more months before you could talk to your husband’s lawyer about getting a divorce and it was killing you. You now realized how much of freedom you had given up just to fulfill a promise.

His friend Lloyd was going to stay in the hotel for a few days. He was visiting him and he was also here for a work trip. Lloyd was a good man per se, but he still had a thing for ruining sweet things. You were one of them. Ari had made an arrangement that you won't be there to greet Lloyd but things never work the way they're supposed to. The person who was supposed to greet Lloyd was out sick and you had taken up his shift. Ari did not know. The main management, whom Ari had threatened did not know. Now, here you are, smile on your face, waiting for the swaggered man with a mustache to reach you so you can help him.

Ari got a text from Lloyd saying he is in the lobby. Ari finishes his drink and gets in the elevator. He was relaxed knowing you were never going to see Lloyd because you would be tasked to different spaces than him. The elevator dings open and he makes his way to the reception when he halts. He sees a genuine smile on your face and Lloyd’s flirty eyes raking all over your body. He knew Lloyd would not do anything without your consent and that you were married so there would be nothing there but this spark of jealousy had started burning. He was jealous of your husband, yes. But he knew that you were living on the premises alone. He never saw you with any man other than your colleagues and he never heard you talk about him. He assumed things are not good in your marriage so he indulged in flirting with you. But Lloyd was a different story. Married or not, he did not care. Lloyd always got what he wanted and Ari did not want Lloyd to want you. But he heard you giggle. You were giggling at something Lloyd said and he was turning green. Your giggle was the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and it wasn't for him. He stalks to the desk and jerks the key and ID away from your hand. He grabs Lloyd’s shirt and drags him to the elevator, leaving you confused and maybe a bit hurt.

“She’s a sweet thing, Levinson. I didn't know your hotel had improved so much that you had started to hire dolls.” Lloyd laughs as he is pushed in the room.

“Stay away from her. She is married.” Ari walks to the bar and pours himself another drink.

“Is that why you're jealous? That she has someone else filling her cunt instead of you.” Lloyd grabs another glass and fills it up. “You know husbands are never an issue. I could make her beg for me in front of her husband.”

“Very crass of you Lloyd. Leave her alone. Do not talk to her. You know what, do not engage with her at all. Just stay away.” Ari slams the glass on the kitchen counter and walks out. “And welcome back to the city Lloyd, I hope you enjoy your stay in my hotel.”

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy it alright.” Lloyd smirks as he downs his drink.

……………………..

Lloyd often found you around the hotel. Actually, Lloyd knew you were assigned away from him. He wanted to rile Ari up. He couldn't help it. He knew Ari wasn't gonna act on his feelings over a married woman and that did not stop Lloyd. He wanted Ari to do something about it. He wanted Ari to get riled up so much that he would finally get laid. After his ex, Ari had given up on sex. Ari said he was over meaningless sex and Lloyd was going to make sure that Ari ate his own words.

Ari saw Lloyd approach you and stop you on your way. Your eyes narrow and lips thinned, he thought you were pissed but within a second, you laughed and Ari froze. He had heard you giggle but he had never seen you laugh and he might've lost what remaining heart he had to that. He got pissed. Well, he has been pissed for a while but he didn't show it. For two entire weeks, he had seen Lloyd find you and flirt with you. No matter how hard he tried, Lloyd always went over his head to talk to you.

Ari had had it enough. He stomped his way to where you and Lloyd were standing. Your back was to him so you never saw him coming. The only indication was Lloyd’s raised eyebrow and a smirk before you were whisked into the arms of the man you have had dreams about. Dirty and all. Before you could get any words out, you were on Ari’s shoulder like a sack, being dragged away from a laughing Lloyd. You were confused, of course, but you were not turned on in a very weird way. You could feel the possessiveness of his arms around your waist. You tried to wriggle but was met with an even firmer grip. You saw the route you were taking was not guest approved.

“Mr. Levinson, please. I will get fired if you do this. This is not a guest approved area. I cannot have you in here. Please. Put me down and we can walk wherever you want me to.”

“Call me Ari, sugar. I have told you that before. Also, you are not going to get fired. Everything’s fine. Just stop wriggling. You're not helping your case, sugar.”

You weren't complaining though. All this while you were getting a perfectly good view of Ari’s perfect ass that you always try to subtly stare at. You didn't realize you had reached his room when he planted you on his bed. You tried to sit up but he pushed your shoulder a little, sprawling you back on the bed. You were horny enough to understand the situation but you were also aware enough that Ari is not someone who would force you to do something you don't want to do.

Ari locks his room door and walks over to the bed. You had made no move of getting up from the position he threw you in. He smiled. You were obedient. He slowly straddles you and leans into you. Your eyes are glazed with lust but you try not to show it. But he saw the glaze. He leans in close to you. Your faces are inches apart. He has caged you between his arms, and, well, the entire body. Not that you wanted to leave. Your breath hitches as he comes closer.

“Never talk to someone else. Don't laugh with them, don't giggle with them, don't even give them your real smile.” he growls. He is so close to you. He can smell the faint rose cologne that you so love to use. He can even smell the faint hint of glycerin body wash you use. He leans in closer. He moves towards your neck and kisses you right below your ear, sending shivers down your spine, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reach up and grab his collar. He freezes, thinking you were going to push him off but your slight pull gave him the approval to continue. He keeps his face there and litters a few more kisses on your neck. You knew you should say something but what? What was going to come out of your mouth but moans and whimpers if you opened it. You risked it. You had to put a stop to this. You were married for fuck’s sake! And this man was not your husband. As much as you wanted this man, Ari, to ruin you, you were not free. You still have a few more months before you get contacted by your husband’s lawyers about the divorce papers.

“Ari,” your voice came out softer than anticipated. “We can't do this.” you haven't even kissed yet. He was busy peppering kisses all over your neck, trying not to leave marks. He wanted the world to know that you were on his mind. He wanted to taste those lips that were always tasting cupcakes and muffins. He wanted to know how sweet you were. Inside out.

“Ari,” you try to pursue again. Your hands twist in his hair in an attempt to pull his face off your neck but instead all you could do is push. “Please, we can't. I- I'm married, Ari and so are you. We can't.” you softly push his face off your neck and hold his face in your hand.

“How do you know I'm married, Sugar?” Ari never told anyone. How did she know?

“The ring is glinting in my eyes, Ari. the sun told me. I- i don't want- i can’t- this is all- Ari, please. Don't make me say things I don't want to mean. I can't ruin your marriage and I cannot ruin mine. You are a guest here. I am already breaking so many rules for you. Don't make me lose my job. I am so close to getting what I want.”

You caress his face and just like that, you peck his lips. You both freeze. Kissing was never on the table, let alone pecking. His eyes darken and he leans again. Just one look in his stormy blue eyes and you lean your head up to meet his lips again. He pushes down with his lips and the passion flutters. Your fingers grab onto his hair, tugging and pulling while his lips assaulted yours. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and was winning the dominance. You let him carry you. You were drowning in his passion and he held onto you. You pulled at his bottom lip and that gained you a breathy moan. His moan was so contagious that you whimpered against his lips and he deepened the kiss and gained a moan from you. His hands were all over your body. Caressing, tugging and holding but never pulling. In need of breath, you both pulled away and he rested his forehead against yours. He would peck your lips to contain the heavy breathing.

“I am not letting you go now, Sugar. I have tasted your sweet lips and I intend to taste more. I don't care about your husband anymore.” Ari pecks your lips one more time and pulls away.

You try to sit up and he helps you. Both of you are sitting at the edge of the bed. You get up and walk towards the bathroom to check your makeup and hair. You start fixing your hair as Ari walks in and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You never really thought much about your height difference but looking in the mirror, you can see that he is tall enough to rest his chin on your forehead without slouching.

“I will help you divorce your husband. I am already preparing to leave my wife. I want you all to myself.” he nuzzles your neck, his beard brushing against your shoulder.

You lean against his chest and take his affection in. “I can't divorce my husband. At least, not yet. I have to wait for this year to end. He is a very powerful man, Ari. a man who lives in an expensive suite will not be enough to take him down. He can ruin my life if he finds out I have even flirted with someone else.”

“What kind of asshole are you married to? Does he, did he- did he ever touch? You know, did he ever-”

“Never met him in my life. I don't think he knows what I look like and neither do I know what he looks like. All I know is that I had to marry him to keep my mother’s promise. It is a very litigious contract, Ari. If he finds out that I have an affair while married to him, I will have to pay him 10 million to rectify his reputation. I don't have that type of money. I also have my last debts to pay. I can't afford to love you.” You squeak and put your hand on your mouth as soon as you say the last sentence.

You can see Ari tilt his head in the mirror and a big smile on his face. “You love me, Sugar?”

You cover your face which has turned red and shake your head. He laughs and kisses your head. His laugh is the most magnificent sound you have ever heard. His voice might turn you on but his laughter made you feel a whole different feeling.

“That was not the point of the entire thing.” Your voice muffled behind your hand. His laughter vibrates through you and it has pulled all the heartstrings it can. His hold around your waist tightens.

“Fine. I will wait. But I will pay off your debts. Let me, please. You might not be able to afford to love me right now but I am very much capable of loving you enough for the two of us.” He turns you around and removes your hand from your face.

“I love you, Sugar. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you by my side.” he pecks your lips and caresses your cheeks. “My wife, well, her family are gold diggers. They manipulated my mother into thinking that their daughter was a good match for me. But I had to marry her. I can divorce her now, the timeline is over and I am sure she has enjoyed my wealth enough. I don't want her, never have, never will. All I want is you. Just you, Sugar.”

“How are you so sure that I'm not a gold digger? Maybe I am. I do belong to a poor family, and have debts. Maybe I seduced you seeing you live in a penthouse suite and all. Then what? Will you still love me?” You asked, letting out a singular piece of insecurity that gnawed at you.

“I am sure you're not after my money because you would have seduced me a long time ago. You had so many chances, baby. But you still never did anything about it. And about your debts, well, I'm sure there must be a reasonable explanation. I know you will tell me. So do not call yourself that. I will not have you talk nonsense about the love of my life.” he pinched your nose.

“Love of your life, huh? You're being overconfident.” You wrap your arms around his waist and draw him close. You take in his scent. He smelt so wonderful, musky and woodsy. You sigh in content and stay wrapped around him longer.

You unwrap yourself from him. “I have to go. My boss, the owner, somehow keeps on reassigning me to different places. I've got these pager thingies to keep track of that. I don't know when and where he will be needing me again.” When, where and how, sugar. Ari’s thoughts went overboard. Imagining you bent over his desk and him taking-

“Ari? Are you listening?” You tilt your head to the side. Ari’s grip had tightened around you making you stop. “Yes, Sugar, I am always listening to you. You don't have to worry about the boss. I'm sure he can deal with his own things.” Ari waddled his way to the bed with you in his arms.

“Oh no no. Ari. no. We are not doing anything. I am married, you are married and I am at work. I cannot ignore the big boss. I was told he had just arrived and lives in this very hotel. I haven't run into him yet which is a good thing but it's also scary that my employer lives in the same place I do. I cannot afford to make any mistakes now. He can fire me and I need this job. I promise I will find a way to make it up to you. Did you like the cupcakes I got you last week? I can get those again for you. I-” You try to get out of his clutches. It was hard. Not in that way. It was hard that way too but, ugh! No point in overthinking. Ari tightened his hold around you and sat you both down on the bed. Not sat per se. He shifted to the middle of the king size bed and made you straddle him, keeping a tight hold on you.

“Sugar, you need to stop talking about your boss or I will be jealous of myself.” He chuckled and kissed your cheek.

“What do you mean you are jealous of yourself?” you were confused. What did he mean?

“Well, Sugar. I have to confess something and before you blast, I need you to listen to me, alright?” his hands roamed over my waist and back as if trying to coax me. I nodded.

“Well, the first day, when you gave me my room keys, you didn't know whom you were talking to. And I liked that. So I told the staff to never reveal who I actually am to you. You just know me as a businessman but actually I am a hotelier. I own hotels. A lot of them. They Are spread world wide. But this hotel is special. This was my family's very first hotel and I came back because this is my home. This room is mine. Permanently. You never knew that. I liked that. You were unadulterated. You did not behave like I am a big bad boss so I never corrected you. You were- God!- you were refreshing, sugar! I loved our conversations because you never hesitated. I loved it! You treated me like one of the guests and I got to know how proud I am to have employees like you in my hotel! But then I started falling for you and I knew I had to tell you the truth. I was going to! But then Lloyd showed up and he tried to get to you and I lost it.” your eyes widened with the confession.

You never expected to fall in love, first of all. And second of all, you never expected to fall in love with the owner of the hotel! A billionaire! You looked down at yourself. You were in the uniform. Dirty, a reminder where you stood. You shuffled, trying to get off his lap but his hold tightened and he pulled you to his chest. You stumbled and your lips collided with his. Before you could pull away, he held your neck and deepened the kiss leading you to moan. Your brain starts working and you tap his chest twice before he lets go.

“That was very opportunistic of you, Ari, uh, sir. I shouldn't-”

“Don't Y/N. I told you the truth because I wanted to build our relationship on truth. I am still your Ari. do not see me as your boss. Please. I love what we have. Don't sully it by thinking that you don't deserve me. I can hear your thoughts, Sugar. They are loud. I will not let you think these things. Before all these designations, we are people and I love my Sugar and she loves her Ari, right?” he cups your face and traces your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Mhm.” You nod. You lean in to kiss both his cheeks. “I should still go. We spent hours together, Ari. As much as i love this, i cannot stay like this much longer. My husband might have sent his people to see if I am ruining his reputation or not and I don't want to drag you in the middle of my mess. So, I should go now.” you shuffle out of his grip and down the bed. The sun was about to set and you turned on the room lights. You do the same with the living room and kitchen lights before leaving the room.

“But- I love you, Sugar.” Ari whimpered. Seeing how she didn't bother to say it back. He was about to leave the bed when he heard his door open again. He saw you peep in with a wide smile “I love you, Ari.” and with that, you scurried away, leaving a widely smiling, blushing Ari.

…………………………

Meeting Ari in secret had become a habit. He would randomly pull you in secluded places and his lips would be immediately on yours. He tried very hard not to leave marks on you but some days were harder than others. You haven't had sex though. He respected your decision enough to not push it. Hell! You haven't even touched each other other than making out sessions in the corners! You wanted him badly but you were so close to freedom.

Three months were left for the year end and you got a phone call while Ari was nipping your neck. You shuffled and pulled out your phone, only to see it was your husband’s the lawyer. You sighed and signaled Ari to wait. He groaned and rested his forehead on your shoulder. You begin combing through his hair with your fingers because that calms you down.

“Hello! I have been waiting for your call for months!” you say as soon as you pick up.

“Well, I suppose for the same reason as your husband. The paperworks is just under process. As soon as I get my hands on them, they'll be ready to sign and the next day of your anniversary, you will be a divorced woman. Your husband wants the same thing. But we do need to meet with you to discuss finances. Since you were not allowed to sign a prenup and all.” Mr. Barber, your husband’s lawyer, gave details where to meet and you agreed. All this while, Ari was very slowly marking your neck. He couldn't help it. Your hands in his hair, combing them through, was making it very difficult for him to not mark. You let it happen. While he was easing your frustration, he too was frustrated with his divorce lining up.

“Sounds good! I will see you tomorrow.” you cut the call and put it back in your pocket. You smile brightly at Ari, who looks at you in confusion. “It finally happened! That was my husband’s lawyer and we are meeting tomorrow to see if i want to keep anything from him, which i do not, and then, within three months i will officially be a divorcee! I am so excited!” Seeing you happy, Ari chuckled and hugged you tight. You both let out a sigh of relief. He let you go and you went back to the front desk. He helped cover the lovely dark marks he left on you. You did, after all, have an entire day of work left.

When Ari reached his office, he got a call from his lawyer saying his wife was ready to meet. Ari really wanted to see the face of the woman he married but decided against it. He did not need to feel guilty for being in love with you. He just wanted to get this over with. He didn't even care about anything but you anymore. His wife could have all his fortune and he would be content with you by his side. He told Lloyd about everything that happened. Lloyd was happy for him, revealing that he provoked him on purpose. Ari just shook his head and they went back to laughing.

“Barber is back. He's handling all my divorce paperwork. He said he'll meet us tomorrow after he meets my wife. Finally! I will be free to live my life with my Sugar.” Ari stretched over his sofa. Lloyd was sitting across from him. With whiskey in their tumblers, he congratulated Ari for being one step closer to the freedom he's always wanted.

………………………..

Tomorrow could not have come sooner. You got ready to meet the lawyer for your lunch. Ari had subtly changed your lunch schedule so that you can get a longer break. Nobody in the hotel was suspicious of what was going on so you were at ease. Not that you cared what they thought but you just wanted things to be revealed after your divorce. So many things were piling up in your to-do list with Ari that your patience was running low. You wanted to drag him to bed so bad. You took a deep breath and grabbed your purse. Lucky for you, the restaurant was just one block down. You walked to the place and looked around to see the lawyer sitting patiently.

“Hello Mr. Barber! I am sorry I ran late. A sudden work emergency came up.” You shake his hand and sit down opposite him. He asks you to order for your meal and after ordering, you decide to jump right into business.

“So, Mr. Barber, what does my husband want me to do? Oh! Here,” you pull out his black card from your wallet. “Please give this back to him. I never used it. I never had a chance to give it back because it arrived a week after signing the certificate. Also, do tell him that I never used his house. It wasn't mine to begin with. I have a good job and a place to stay so I am not blaming him for anything. I know I have nothing to apologize for but do tell him I am sorry on behalf of my mother who signed that agreement. My mother signed it when i wasn't even born so i couldn't exactly stop her and from what i have heard is that she used to be a sentimental woman. She did this to protect her friendship with Diana and I do hope my husband understands that.”

Mr. Barber said nothing and the lunch ended quietly and quickly. You made a note to mention that you wish to take nothing from your husband and that his money and property are his. You get a text from one of your coworkers about an emergency with a guest so you leave in a hurry saying goodbyes and goodlucks.

……………………….

“Andy! How are you? How is Boston treating you?” Lloyd slapped his back as he settled down on Ari’s sofa. Andrew Barber was also a childhood friend of Ari and met Lloyd in university. All three of them have been best friends since then. There is a fourth but he is often busy.

“All good. Can't complain. Broke up with Laura, finally. I was too blind to see how manipulative she was. Finally got proof of her affairs and dumped her. What about you Lloyd? Found someone to ruin?” Andy took a sip from his tumbler.

“I did. But Ari stole her from me. She- OWW!” Lloyd looks up to see it was Ari who smacked him and smirked.

“Shut it, Hansen. Barber, how did it go with the wife? How much was she asking for?” Ari sat down beside Lloyd.

Andy sat up straight. “Funnily enough, she asked for nothing. In fact, she apologized on behalf of her mother for signing the contract because she was sentimental and something about protecting the friendship with your mother. Oh yes!” Andy digs through his work bag and brings out a wallet. “She left her wallet. Left in a hurry. Something about a work emergency. She also told me to let you know that she did not use the card you gave her or the house. Independent and all. I think you should still look into all her claims.”

Ari, even though he did not care, wanted to see what the woman looked like. His soon-to-be ex-wife’s wallet was right there in front of him. He sighed and gave in to his curiosity. He took the wallet and opened it. He saw the black card, brand new, laying in one of the compartments. There was some cash in there too, tattered at the end. His hand drifted to her IDs. His eyes saw a familiar card and he pulled out. It was the ID of his hotel staff. The moment he saw the photo and the name, his brain started scrambling. He started feeling numb and he closed the wallet and threw it back on the table.

“Levinson? Are you okay? What happened?” A concerned Lloyd asked. Lloyd wasn't the one to care but he saw his tough friend tremble. He took the ID from his hand and his eyes bulged. “Is this his wife?” He pointed at the photo in the ID at Andy who squinted and nodded. “Oh shit!”

“What? Am I missing something?” Andy’s interest piqued.

“That’s his little girlfriend. The one he is desperately in love with.” Lloyd clarified and Andy whistled in a low tone.

“Did you not see her downstairs?” Ari finally found his voice.

“Who? Your wife or your girlfriend?” Andy gauffed and Lloyd joined in.

“The receptionist. My girlfriend, or my wife. I don't know. Did you not see her when you came upstairs?” Ari asked impatiently.

“No. There was some guy who directed me upstairs. And I heard someone say that the other receptionist was handling an agitated guest. Why? Is she here? Does she work here, Ari?” Andy asked.

“Yes. this woman,” Ari pointed at the ID, “works here. I don't know who she is anymore. But she said she's never seen her husband! How? I'm sure my house has plenty of my photos. Was she lying? Did she try to manipulate me?” Ari was confused and ranted out his doubts.

Lloyd was not one to show sympathy but he did feel bad for his friend. He texted his secretary and clicked the photo of your ID, asking about all of your details. He had ways he could even get confidential secrets revealed. Lloyd liked you for Ari but if you were going to betray him, he wasn't just going to enjoy the show, he was going to destroy you. His secretary was quick. Within half an hour, he got every tiny bit of information about you.

“Says here that she's married to Ari Levinson. Which is supposed to be confidential. Did you know that your wife doesn't even know your name because of the confidentiality?” Lloyd points out on his ipad.

“What? Is this true, Andy?” Ari rubs his eyes and double checks the files in Lloyd’s ipad.

“Yeah. you told me you didn't want anything to do with her so your name, work, address, phone numbers, everything was concealed. She doesn't even know how rich you are or that this is your hotel.” Andy nods and points out to the paperwork he brought out from his bag.

“And, it says here that her mother was your mother’s childhood friend. Her father was a drunk and gambler and so she wanted a better life for her daughter, I guess. Looks like she's still paying her father’s debts. She didn't even know about the debts till her father left, which was right before she signed the certificate. Damn! Her father beat her up because she was a child and could not get the money. That's why your mother sent them money!” Lloyd continued.

“She hasn't used any of the money you gave her. Hell! She even lived in this tiny ass apartment. Look at it.” Lloyd showed Ari the photos of your apartment area. Ari winced. He didn't know this. He never bothered to care. But now he did. For different reasons.

He started wondering about times when he played with Andy and Ransom when they were young and saw his mother talking to a young girl. He remembered her sitting on the chair with her head down, crying. He remembered not bothering to talk to her because she had mud on her face and bruises on her arms. He remembered his mother telling him that this was the girl he would marry someday and him scrunching his face in disgust. He always kept that little girl at a distance. She never saw him but always did. He even asked all the servants to not show his photos or anything to the girl because he wanted nothing to do with her. Ari realized, all these years, it was you and it had always been you. He was too stubborn to see it. He could have saved years of hurt and pain if he had just met you, got to know you. If only he hadn't run away from you then, maybe divorcing you would never have come up. He felt guilty. But not anymore. You were in his reach and he would not let you go anymore. He will keep you for his entire life and he will apologize for all these years of ignorance.

“On what basis were you filing for divorce, Andy?” Ari asked with sudden ideas spurring in his mind on ways to cancel the divorce filing.

“Well, at first we were thinking of defamation but she never had an affair. Then, we were going to go for lack of consummation because, well, you were away. What are you thinking, Ari?” Andy sipped the drink. He knew Ari was onto something but his eyes widened at Ari’s idea.

“What if we consummate? What if I convince her to sleep with me? Then we can’t get divorced. I will apologize to her. Tell her everything. She has been mine all this time. I can't let her go! She will leave if she finds out I was the one she was divorcing. Cancel the paperwork, Andy. I'm staying married.” Ari stood up and put her wallet on his bedside. 

…………………………..

You were frantically looking for your wallet. All your life savings was in there and so was your hotel ID. You were lucky to be staying in the hotel but that still didn't mean that ID wasn’t required. Getting in and out of the VIP section was part of your job and now you were lost. You could ask Ari to get access but you didn't want to. You've been doing this all on your own for a while then why would you want his help over such a trivial thing? Your brain worked and you called Andy, the lawyer. He was the last person to see your wallet, maybe he took it with him.

After a few rings, Andy picked up his phone. “Hey Mr. Barber, sorry to bother you so late but have you seen my wallet? I left it when I ran out of the restaurant… oh really! Thank you so much. Yes, I will collect it from the front desk. Thank you so much and really sorry for the bother.”

You rushed out from your room to make your way to the front desk. Meanwhile, Lloyd and Andy held Ari down before he could begin his confrontation plan. Andy left your wallet at the frontdesk and both the friends dragged Ari back up to his suite to avoid a show. Andy coaxed Ari into inviting you to his suite tomorrow and spending the entire day clarifying the situation. Ari was an impatient one. He wanted you then, he wanted you now but even he understood that now was not the right time. Before he could call you to arrange for tomorrow's meeting, he got a call that there was an emergency at one of his hotels two states away. He had to leave and he might not be back for a week. He called you to meet. The least he could do is say goodbye before he goes.

When you arrived upstairs, the suite looked partied through. At least the kind of parties rich businessmen throw. Ari had allowed you to use the spare key whenever you wanted so having it handy had its perks. You heard shuffling in the bedroom so you made your way to it. You saw Ari packing and your heart thud with anxiety at the sight of it.

“Sugar, I am only going for a week. It's an emergency two states down. You won't even know i was gone.” he immediately sensed your anxiety.

“But how did you know that i-”

“I know you by now, Sugar. This is why I called you. I wasn't gonna see you for a week and I wanted to feel you, get you all over me before that.” he drops his bag on the floor and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Are you leaving right now?” you asked, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“No. tomorrow afternoon. They can manage till then. Tonight I wanted it to be about us.”

Before you could process what he said, he crashed his lips on you. Your hands cupped his face and pulled his lips even closer. His hand cupped your breast and teased your nipples from over the clothing which made you gasp. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and your moans collided. All the pent up frustration from your body was making its appearance and Ari knew exactly what he was doing. He had seen your annoyed face when all you both could do was kiss or makeout. She would always put a stop to humping. He knew why but he never wanted to force you into doing something you didn't have the right mind for. But today you were all his and he was going to seduce you to bed.

He lifted you off the ground as you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall. “Ari. please.” you moan as his lips move to kiss your cheeks. He slowly backs up to the bed taking you with him and straddles you to his waist as his head hits the pillows in the middle of the bed. None of you have any intention of breaking the kiss. He moves his lips from yours and trails kisses down to your neck. You crane your neck to give him better access. Your hands immediately move to unbutton his shirt clumsily. You groaned in frustration, gaining a very lighthearted chuckle from Ari that vibrated through your neck. You gently hit his chest and he laughs, making you laugh too.

He sits up and helps you remove his shirt. He then lifts your shirt up and you, very gladly, let him take it off, leaving you in your night pajama pants and bra. “Damn, Sugar. You're a sight for sore eyes.” He caresses your waist.

He flips you over and now he is in control. He makes sure to leave prominent marks on your neck this time, at least a week’s worth. You arch your body and hint to go further down. You lift his hand from your waist and put it on your breast. He smirks and trails his lips further down. You move your hand to remove your bra but he holds your wrist. “Allow me, Sugar. This is a privilege.” He unclasped the bra and threw it above your head. He stopped and looked at your breasts as if he was seeing the most wondrous thing ever.

“You have hidden them from me for so long, Sugar. Today I will finally taste the sweet skin of your body. And oh they were worth the wait. But not anymore.” He instantly takes your right nipple in his mouth and you moan louder. Your hand grips the bed sheets tightly as he sucks on your nipple. His other hand, fumbles with removing your pants. He removes his lips from the right nipple and moves the left giving it the same treatment, leaving you panting and gasping.

You realize he wants your pants off so you sit up and take his lips to yours again. You bundle your underwear and pants together, pushing them down your hips. He removes them with much ease, leaving you completely naked. He was about to jump back on you when you raised your hand and pointed at his pants. “Off.” He unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxer haphazardly.

You see his naked body and begin to salivate. You had seen your fair share of hot bodies but Ari was on a whole nother level. His body was sculpted by greek sculptures and his cock, glistening with pre-cum was thick and veiny. You had to gulp. Your core got wetter by nanoseconds that you stared at Ari.

“If you are done looking at Sugar, i'd love to look at you now.” He climbed and crawled slowly towards you like an animal. You instinctively spread your legs to let him settle between them. Your core was so wet, your cum was dripping out of the hole. Ari moaned at the sight of it. Without any warning, he dived right in and took your core in his mouth. You squealed and mewled as he kept suckign on you. Your hands tried to push Ari out but he held your hips tight and dove deeper. His tongue in you was not doing you any favors. Ari put your legs on his broad shoulders to get a better angle and you tried to squeeze your thighs together.

“Sugar, I swear, do it again. Squeeze me. I want to be inside you so bad but you taste so divine.”

The knot in your stomach tightened as you were close. “Ari, please. I'm so close.” Ari increased the speed of his tongue and intertwined his hand with yours as your other hand gripped his hair tighter. “Cum, Sugar. Cum for me.”

His words opened the dam and you released your juice all over his face as he continued to slurp you up. You screamed and arched with pleasure as Ari lapped up the last of you. He slowly moved away from your core, letting you breathe a little and kissed your inner thighs. You trailed to your calf and you looked at him. He was looking right at you. His blue eyes had turned dark with lust and his face was covered in your juice.

He leaned back to your face and caught your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned louder. “I'm gonna be in you, Sugar. Just tell me if you need me to stop and I will pause. But sorry, Sugar, I won't be able to stop. I've waited long enough, not anymore. I'll be taking you raw, cumming in you.” He whispered against your lips and you nodded weakly.

He aligned himself against you and looked at you for permission. You nodded again and he slowly, very slowly, slid in. you arch against the mattress as he fills you in. “Please Ari.” He pushed himself further in and you let out a gasp. You could feel him in your belly. He waited for a second to let you adjust to his length. He looked down to see you sprawled on his bed with his marks all over your neck and breasts. He was pleased by his work. “Ari, baby, please move. I can't.” Your begging spurs him in and he thrusts further in leaving you gasping.

He pulls out slowly and leaves the tip in. before you could even make up your mind to speak, he thrusts in you hard, making you scream his name. He thrusts in you again and again, moaning and panting. He says your name like a prayer and you, his. He brings his mouth to your boobs and sucks on them while you hold his head against your chest. His lips move back to your neck and you can hear his moans in your ears, leaving a symphony.

“Fuck, Sugar! Should've done this way sooner. You are so made for me. All mine.” His thrusts leave you drunk and when he finds an angle and hits your spot, you scream his name again, leaving him smirking. “That’s the spot, Sugar? That's what makes you stars, doesn't it? I will show you stars all night long, Sugar.” He relentlessly thrusts on your spot leaving you panting and screaming.

“Ari, I'm cumming. Please. Cum in me.” You beg, bringing his lips to yours. “So pleased to hear that, Sugar. In you. I will always cum in you. Fill you up with me. You will let me, won't you, Sugar.” He brings his fingers to your clit and starts rubbing on it, making you mewl.

“Cum with me, Sugar. Come on. I know you're there. Let go.” His thrusts turn sloppy and irregular and his fingers on your clit make you gush all over his cock just as his cum fills you up. Few more thrusts and he lays on you, pressing you into the mattress. You whine and try to push him off which he obliged but doesn't make an effort to move out from you.

He pulls you closer and his cock twitches in you, making you whine. “You've got to take it out, Ari, please. I gotta clean up.” You put your hand on his cheek. “Who said anything about moving, Sugar. I am keeping you here all night. Even if it's just to warm my cock. I've got you now, I've tasted you and now I am not letting you go. At least until tomorrow afternoon.”

You squeal and giggle as he pulls you on top of him, still inside you and starts trailing kisses on your body. You let yourself be swept away with Ari till he leaves you exhausted and sleep deprived.

…………………………

It had been a week and a half. Ari had texted that the paperwork got longer so will be back by the weekend. You missed him. But you are also worried now. You had slept with a man who was not your husband. Just two more months till the divorce and you had ruined your chance to be free. You have been meaning to talk to Ari about this but there was no time. You didn't stand a chance when Ari kept on seducing the entire night, fuzzing up your brain to come with anything. You were constantly worried that you might get a call saying you're being charged with defamation of your husband.

When your phone rang, you jumped and reached to see it was Mr. Barber. “Hello. Is everything okay, Mr. Barber?” Your anxiety spiked.

“Yes, everything is fine. I just called to inform you that your husband does not want to divorce you. He went over your details and made a decision that you are good for the family and would likely come see you soon, hoping for a good marital life.” Mr. Barber went on to explain that your husband respected your decisions and was pleased with everything. Your mind went blank. No thoughts, just anxiety.

“But, Mr. Barber, how can he suddenly change his decision? This is not fair! I have a life and I have work and I have-” you stopped yourself from saying Ari’s name. This was a disaster. What were you going to tell Ari? Ari said he is also divorcing his wife and it is final, they are just waiting for papers. What would you do? You had slept with Ari. your husband was going to kill the both of you. Or worse, defame you in front of the world. You could not let that happen to Ari. you loved him. He didn't deserve to be ruined like this. The phone call had ended and you were still holding it. You were so lost in thoughts that you did not see the glass vase on the front desk and ran into it. The glass shattered on your feet and blood seeped out of them. You felt no pain but you watched as the water from the vase and your blood mixed, forming an inevitable doom that your mind had become.

Lloyd was in the lobby when this happened and he immediately scooped you up. He sat you down on the sofa and cursed about how Ari was going to have his head. He saw tears streaming down your face but you had no expression. He propped your feet on his lap and carefully removed the glasses. He had barked orders to bring in a doctor and the resident doctor had shown up. The doctor cleaned your wounds and cleaned tiny shards of glasses from your feet. He cleaned and dressed your feet in bandages.

You were about to stand after thanking the doctor, when Lloyd scooped you up. “I cannot let you walk like this. I'll carry you to your room and you stay there. I'll talk to Ari and will get you a few days of bedrest.” you absentmindedly nodded, not reacting to the situation.

……………………………

Ari stomped his way to his suite. Lloyd had moved you in his room so you were resting on his bed when he slammed open the door, making you jump. When Ari got a call from Lloyd saying what had happened to you, it shattered his heart. He couldn't leave the hotel on its own so he stayed till the weekends. By now, the entire hotel knew about Ari’s affections towards you because Lloyd would occasionally call room services for you. No one minded but of course, who was going to stop the rumors. Luckily, you weren't there to hear any of them.

Seeing you on the bed with your feet covered in bandages, Ari’s feet wobbled and he knelt next to you. You had taken up an entire side of his bed and he didn't mind. In fact he loved it. “You got hurt. I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry, Sugar. I should've been here. I'm so sorry for being so late.”

“Ari, it's fine. We talked about this, didn't we? You were there for the emergency. You couldn't just leave and come. I'm fine. See. I'm all better. Stings a little but almost healed. Your work is just as important. This is your life, after all.” You stroke his hair.

“You are important too. You are my life now, Sugar. It's all you, only you. No one else.”

His confession shattered the happy illusion you are living in. you had buried the canceled divorce deep in your mind but his confession brought it all back. It started leaving its traces on your face as tears. You had broken down even without knowing. Ari shook up. He had never seen a breakdown like this before. He moved to his side of the bed and hugged you close as you struggled to breath and cry.

After a few minutes, you calmed down and drank the water, Ari offered. “Please go change Ari. we need to talk.” You say in a small, trembling voice. Ari nodded and stood up to take a shower and dress comfortably. He wore a shirt because seeing you, he knew it was not the time to seduce you. He saw you wring your hands and breath in heavily.

“Ari, I got a call on the day of my accident. It was my husband's lawyer. He, well, he told me that my husband doesn't want a divorce anymore.” You were not looking at Ari. how could you when the love you built with him was going to shatter within seconds. You didn't want to see a broken Ari. “I- the decision is not in my hands. His mother loved my mother so she suggested we get married. He holds all the power. I'm just someone who goes along. Mostly because I fear he would do something if I stray.” You gulped. You were trying to find a way to tell Ari that you will always love him but won't be able to be with him. “My husband is a very powerful man, Ari. he can do anything and one of those things is destroying someone else's life. If he finds out about us, about you, he will not stop until nothing of yours remains. Ari, I love you, so so much. But I cannot let that man destroy you. I will do anything to protect you.”

You finally look up to meet Ari’s eyes. He was looking at you intensely. Maybe lovingly even. You didn't need to say that you will stay married to someone you didn't love to protect him. He understood. There was adoration in his eyes. He cups your face and kisses you. You close your eyes and cherish the soft kiss he is giving you right now. He leans his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you so much, Sugar.”

He sits up and takes your hands in his. “I'm going to tell you something and I want you to keep an open mind. Can you do that for me, Sugar? Will you listen to me before saying anything?”

You nod and he continues. “Well, I got to look into your files. Your last name, your husband's last name is Levinson. You might've not known this. Because he never told you. I'm a Levinson, Sugar. I am the Levinson you're married to. I was an idiot. Since I was young, my mother would always point to you and tell me I'll be marrying you. To a child it seemed silly but the older I grew, the more annoyed and irritated I got. I wasn't given a choice in choosing my own partner. It felt manipulative. So when we found the contract, it pissed me off even more that I was tied to you for life. The only problem in all of this was, because of my stubbornness, I never bothered to look into you, look at you. You always looked like a thorn to me but I was an idiot. When I met you here, I didn't know you were my wife. I fell in love for who you are. I found out about you being my wife the day you went to see Andy, the lawyer. He is a good friend of mine. He had come over for drinks and tossed me your wallet saying that my wife had left it. I was so close to divorcing my wife and was thinking of a happy life with you. But my curiosity got the best of me and went through your wallet when I found out that it was you all along. I was pissed at myself for ignoring you all this time. I was angry at myself for letting the time slip by me during which I could've had you. I wanted to tell you that night but Andy told me it's better to wait for the next day. But as you know, the emergency arrived and I had to leave.”

He stared at you. Looking for a reaction. Instead he found a thoughtful look on your face. “When I found out that you were my wife all this time, I asked Andy to stop the paperwork and call you to tell you that we were not divorcing. The timing was off. You were supposed to know all this before Andy called you but work ran late. And I banned Andy or Lloyd from talking about this with you. I wanted to be the one to tell you that I am your husband. I am that idiot, powerful, scary husband that can destroy anyone who comes near you.”

Minutes passed. It was agonizing for Ari. he wanted you to say something. There were tears welled up in his eyes. Suddenly, you started laughing. Not a maniacal laugh but a genuine laughter. “So, you mean to say, I was worried about my affair with my own husband! I was worried my own husband would destroy himself because I slept with him!” You laugh even louder. You calmed down after a while and looked at Ari, who had tears slipping down his face.

“Why are you crying?” You cradle his face and wipe his tears. You pull him on you and bury his face in your neck. He gets comfortable and wraps his arms around you tightly. You stroke his hair with one hand while the other strokes his arms.

“I thought you would hate me after that. After I reveal to you that I am your husband.” Ari’s voice trembled. You pull him closer. “I can never hate you, Ari. And yes, it might be your fault but it is mostly our mothers’ fault. They never bothered to meet us up. They never pushed us to get to know each other. Of course we grew up hating each other. They took away a choice. It's okay. I'm just glad that it's you. My love, my husband, it's all you. Also, this makes a funny story about a wife and husband having an affair with each other.” You giggle at the last line, making Ari laugh too.

“Ari, I'd love to stay married to you. You know, in a way I am glad it's you. If it was someone else, I would've died. I don't think I can see my life without you in it anymore. Let the past be in the past and let's go together from here, yes?”

You bring Ari’s face up and kiss him deeply. He shifts and pulls you under him. “I'm glad you're my wife. My love and my soulmate. I'm going to cherish every moment we have together.”

........................

the ask box for this fic is open

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Gravity Always Wins

Day #3 Prompt: Apples | Word Count: 6464 | Rating: M | POV: Eddie | CW: Language, Sex | Tags: Modern AU, Meet Cute, Apple Picking, Bakery Owner Steve, Sports Guy Steve, Smitten Eddie Munson, Platonic Stobin, Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Also right here on ao3.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," Eddie says as the apple tumbles out of his grasp. He looks down in horror as it falls, like a slow-motion car wreck happening right before his very eyes, as it lands directly on the guy's head that was picking below him.

To add insult to injury, it hits with a very audible thunk. 

Shit, he shouldn't even be allowed on a ladder. That's like the first rule of the universe or some shit. Who signed off on this? Honestly.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Eddie asks, coming down the ladder, watching as the guy, the very pretty guy, rubs at the top of his head, only slightly worried he's about to get his ass kicked in a goddamn apple orchard.

But the guy is laughing.

He's laughing, and gorgeous, and Eddie can't help but smile. 

"Goddamn you, Newton!" Eddie shouts, dramatically shaking his fist in the air, eyes trained on the sky, as if he had nothing at all to do with this, and that gravity alone was solely to blame.

"Gravity always wins," the guy says, then adds, "I'm good, honest, you just startled me. I never thought concussion number four would be at the hands of an apple. But here we are."

Eddie feels his face fall.

"Oh, oh no, I'm kidding. I was just teasing you. I'm fine. Look? It was just a little apple," he says, leaning over to pick up the offending piece of fruit. 

Eddie eyes it in his palm, "That's definitely gonna have a bruise."

"Like my head," he teases, and Eddie reaches out and pops him on the shoulder, making him pull back, giggling. His sweater is soft under Eddie's hand, and Eddie wants to reach out and stroke it again, but stops himself. Content to just stare a second.

He's truly something to look at. Goddamn.

Eddie just smiles at him, and when he straightens back up, he hands the apple back.

It is a little apple, and Eddie probably shouldn't have picked it in the first place, but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. He saw an apple, and picked it.

Looking at the bushel this guy has selected, though, gives him pause. They are evenly sized, and brightly colored. No blemishes at all. Perfect apples, for the perfect guy.

Eddie's are a little misshapen and odd. The freaks, if you will, but he thinks that's pretty damn fitting.

"Guess you'll have to make applesauce–" the guy starts, and then stops, clearly searching for Eddie's name.

"Eddie," Eddie offers.

"Eddie," he repeats. "I'm Steve."

"Well, Steve, I would make some applesauce if I knew how," Eddie laughs.

"You could always come by my bakery slash coffee shop," Steve offers, sort of shaking the basket slung over his arm, "That's why I'm picking apples today. So I can make some seasonal items with local apples. Customers eat that shit up."

Eddie thinks he's being picked up. Maybe. Or not. He's never very good at getting those signals right. Gareth says he's hopeless, and sometimes that feels more accurate than he'd like to admit.

Like, right now. Is Steve hitting on him, or trying to drum up business? 

Eddie decides he honestly doesn't exactly care which it is, "Sure, I'd love to be the guinea pig for your apple pie."

"Well," Steve says, lowering his voice in a way that makes Eddie feel funny in a good way, "I never said pie."

"Oh, well, in that case…" Eddie teases, trailing off, acting as if he's going to walk away.

But, Steve just laughs at him, and digs in his wallet, producing a little business card: Harrington's. Since 1955.

"My, you look awfully good for your age," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, "My grandma and grandpa ran it before me. And they didn't think they'd have anyone to take over the family business when they retired. And then I turned up, with nothing better to do."

Eddie nods. He's definitely going to stop by Steve's family business, not even for the not-pie, but just so he can see more of this guy, "Well, in that case. When should I show up?"

"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" Steve suggests, and Eddie is nodding along. Tomorrow after three sounds perfect to him. 

Eddie pulls up in the alley behind the back of the bakery, as directed, and can't really believe he's here. Like, what does he know about baking? He can't even bake a box of brownies without messing them up somehow.

But, Steve is gorgeous, and this isn't an invite he's about to turn down. He's a fool, but he's no dummy. Eddie pushes on the back door, and it's heavy, but slowly glides open. 

"Knock, knock," Eddie says, and then hears a commotion. Lots of yelling. Like a fight is happening. 

His fight or flight starts to kick in, and flight will always win for him, but…he pauses.

He knows that kind of yelling from Uncle Wayne, and as far as a fight goes, it's surely a one-sided one, because Steve's staring up at the mounted television over on the wall, screaming at the refs of a football game, as he stands inside an industrial kitchen, at a stainless steel prep table, peeling apples.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Steve the Baker is also Steve the Sports Guy? That wasn't advertised on the label at all. 

Eddie's been hoodwinked. The wool pulled straight over his eyes. Was bamboozled by a pretty face in a warm-looking sweater, right there in a goddamn apple orchard.

He's starting to plan his escape, when Steve turns to look at him, and smiles, waving his paring knife in the air, "Hey! You made it!"

"Hey," Eddie says back, shucking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. Steve sounds excited to see him, and maybe the game is almost over. He could deal with it for a few minutes. Steve was very pretty in that sweater.

He squints at the screen, and the score is 0-0 and it's still the first quarter. He doesn't know a lot about sports, but he grew up with Wayne. He at least understands that this means the damn thing has just started. 

"You care if I leave the game on?" Steve asks, flashing him those warm eyes, and Eddie finds himself nodding along with that idea, like a damn idiot. No, he doesn't want to watch sports, but…that face.

That face will make him break his most solemn of vows: no sports. He just won't tell Wayne or Gareth. He'll gloss right over that part, and nobody will ever have to know that he spent the whole afternoon with football blaring in the background of his maybe date.

Because, as good looking as this guy is, and as much as Eddie would like to eat this guy, and his baked goods, alive, he's sure this isn't going to go any further than this afternoon. It can't. What would they talk about? Baking and football? Eddie doesn't know anything about either of those topics. But he can surely bumble through one afternoon. That'll be fine. Eddie can do anything for one afternoon. All the odd jobs he's ever held has proven that.

Hell, if he plays his cards right, maybe he can get one night out of it, too.

But long-term? He can already see the writing on the wall, and it bums him out, just a little bit. He hadn't been this excited about a guy in a while.

Steve hands Eddie a peeler, and Eddie goes to work, peeling the whole bushel of apples that Steve has washed and laid out on a towel. He does know how to work a peeler, at least. That was his job for potatoes at Wayne's, when he was far too little to do anything else.

"So, tell me about yourself. Do you always assault men with apples?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks over at him and smiles.

"Only the cute ones," Eddie flirts, and loves the blush that stains Steve's cheeks as he looks back down at the apples he's evenly slicing. 

"No offense, but you don't seem like the apple picking type," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. He's not wrong. "What brought you out there, especially all by yourself?"

"It's part of my contract. Free apples from the orchard and free pumpkins from the patch," Eddie says, then realizes that doesn't explain anything at all, adding, "I work nights at the haunted hayride. As a scare actor," Eddie says, then holds his hands up like a zombie.

Steve's eyes are big, and it's awfully cute as he laughs.

"So, free apples. I mean, how many apples or pumpkins can one man eat? But free is free."

"Maybe I'll teach you how to bake something using them," Steve suggests and Eddie nods. He'd like that. A lot, he thinks. Even if that's all he gets out of the day.

"Deal. So, what's on the menu for today?"

Steve grins, "Apple fritters. Cupcakes. There's this apple maple upside down cake I want to try. A cobbler. Someone suggested an apple pie."

"They sound smart," Eddie banters, and Steve just keeps smiling.

"Have you ever made a dessert pizza?" Eddie asks, meeting Steve's eyes.

"Like from Pizza Hut?" Steve questions, and Eddie nods.

"No, but we totally can. I've never thought to try to make it myself."

Eddie smiles at the thought. He imagines homemade would be even better than what used to be on the buffet at Pizza Hut when he was younger.

Steve moves from slicing apples to dicing them very small and fine. In perfect little squares that are very impressive to Eddie's eyes. He can barely cut anything evenly, so that seems like quite the feat.

Eddie watches as Steve goes between watching the knife in his hands so he doesn't cut his fingers off, and the ballgame. 

"You should come to the hayride," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, "I don't really do scary things, or anything that risks a head injury these days."

It's just a trailer pulled around the grounds, nobody touches anybody. Couldn't if they wanted to, but if he doesn't like scary, he doesn't like scary. Then he remembers something Steve had joked about in the orchard after Eddie had beaned him with that apple.

"Have you really already had three concussions?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah," Steve answers, "at least three that I know about. But not from falling apples. I'm fine. I promise."

"How'd you get them?" Eddie asks, because he isn't sure how one gets that many concussions unless they've been abused, and his stomach drops. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe it's none of his goddamn business. Maybe-

"I got one from a dickhead in high school that blindsided me during a stupid fight, and then the other two from football plays in college, a couple weeks apart. One was a dirty, on purpose, helmet-to-helmet late hit, the last one was during a quarterback sneak that went wrong."

Eddie has no idea what that means.

"What's that mean?" Eddie asks.

Steve looks at him, "Not a football guy?"

Eddie shakes his head adamantly, "Not an any sports guy. Sorry."

"That's okay," Steve says, "A quarterback sneak is when you only need to move a yard or two down the field to, say, get across the goal line to score, or get a first down, and the linemen in front of you, the big guys, push forward and the quarterback tries to carry it over himself. No hand-off. No throw."

"And you were the quarterback?"

"I was. I was a little too exposed, and one of the defensive players came in and hit me helmet to helmet in the dogpile. Snapped my neck backwards."

"I'm sorry," Eddie says.

"It happens. Most of the time you go into concussion protocol, and clear it. Mine wasn't even caught immediately after it happened. Not even by me. I hopped right back up, and it wasn't until I'd thrown a few uncharacteristic picks later, that they decided something must be wrong with me and pulled me out of the game and straight into the tent. Once the migraines started a few days later, and never really stopped after all the other symptoms went away, that was the end of the line. No more football. No NFL draft."

Eddie swallows, that's fucking rough.

"They forced you to stop?" Eddie asks. 

"Yes," Steve says, then must change his mind, "No. Not really. The specialists suggested it. I don't think they could have forced me to comply. Hell, they'll play you into the ground. But it would have been a risk to draft a known concussion magnet. So, it was a choice I had to make for myself, and I chose to stop, to preserve what I had left. Stop it at the occasional migraine. Of course Robin, my best friend, would have flayed me alive if I'd done anything else. She was the first to call it, and she was right."

"But you were good enough to go pro? If you hadn't taken those hits?" Eddie asks, quietly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" Steve answers with a shrug, like he doesn't really care one way or the other, but he must care. He'd have to. Eddie knows he'd care if he couldn't play the guitar anymore, and he's never been anywhere near going professional.

"But you still watch it? Football? Even after losing the chance to play?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles, "Hell yeah. I still love the game. Even if I can't play."

Then he points at the screen, "I'm friends with #52. In the white. We went to college together. It all worked out better for him than it did me, but I couldn't be prouder of him. A little jealous, sure. But really proud, too."

"Do you ever get to go to games in person, or is that impossible with the bakery?"

"I try to hit one a season, as that's about all the favors I can call in with my friends. Coming in at three a.m. to get shit ready is a hard sell, let me tell you," Steve laughs, "That and they don't know what they're doing. So, it's just easier to just stay here. Watch on television. Scream at the refs from home instead of the stands."

"I know all about the screaming. I live with my uncle, and he has a sport for every season, I swear it. Getting him to move to Indy with me was no small feat, let me tell you," Eddie laughs, "But he needed to retire from the plant. He still works, because he's a stubborn old man, but now he's at a local hardware store instead, bossing clueless jackasses around. His words, not mine."

Steve laughs, "He sounds great."

"He is, and of course you'd think so, you sports guys always stick together."

Steve laughs, nodding like it's true, and then they go back to work. Baking, watching the game, and cheering on Steve's friend to a close game win.

And that evening, Eddie goes home with a still warm pie, and a phone number for Steve burning a hole in his pocket.

They spend the next two weeks texting back and forth, with a few short phone calls sprinkled in for good measure, but it hasn't gone beyond that. Eddie isn't sure if Steve's just busy or uninterested in setting up a second date. He wishes he'd just tell him. They could just be friends, but Eddie would rather know that now, instead of later once he's already gotten swept away by the idea of dating him, for real.

Eddie looks at his phone as Chrissy does his makeup, "Eyes up, Munson."

Steve hasn't responded, but he's probably asleep. Eddie puts his phone on the table, "Yes, ma'am."

She laughs, and gets him ready for another night of a constant loop of visitors to the maze. They've done this for a few years now, and they're all good at it, and it's not bad seasonal work. It helps pay the bills for the band to keep trying, stay plugging along. 

Eddie knows they aren't gonna make it big, not now, that window has closed. But they still make music together, good music he thinks, so taking on odd jobs to still do that has been worth it. 

Maybe after thirty he'll have to settle down, but for right now? He's just having fun.

"Tell me about the boy," she sing-songs, then changes her mind, "No, keep your mouth shut until I'm done with your face."

Eddie laughs, and keeps his mouth shut, as directed.

"But tell me later, though."

And he nods. He definitely will. Gareth's sick of hearing about Steve, so if he has a fresh pair of ears to listen to him yap, he's definitely all-in on that.

It's actually gotten chilly tonight, but when the second-to-last trailer full of guests pulls around the corner at quarter to two, Eddie sees Steve sitting next to a woman that has to be Robin. She just looks exactly like what Eddie imagined every time Steve's told a story about her. And she looks very grumpy about being awake in the middle of the night.

Eddie is stoked, and rushes around from Gareth to Jeff to Goodie to Chrissy, pointing out Steve, and then hurrying back to his spot for the last trailer. They don't really care all that much. He's sure they're happy for him, but they definitely just want to finish doing their jobs and get the fuck out of here for the night.

Steve's lingering by the employees only sign when Eddie exits backstage.

"You came," Eddie says, makeup hastily scrubbed off his face. It's a big no-no to interact with the guests in character, even if it's the guy you've been playing phone tag with for the last two weeks. He wasn't sure Steve would stay, but he did, and Eddie's fucking thrilled to see him.

"This is Robin," Steve says, slinging his arm over her shoulders.

Eddie starts to say hi, when the door bangs closed behind him, and he turns to see Chrissy on her way out.

"Night, Eddie," Chrissy says, as she passes by them, her dirty dead cheerleader costume slung over her arm.

"Was she the cheerleader?" Robin hisses, and Eddie nods. 

"Hey, Chris, wait!" he hollers, and drags her closer, making introductions. He's no dummy, he knows what that question entailed, and he has no problem playing a hint of matchmaker. And if they're talking, that'll give Eddie some time alone with Steve. 

The fact that Steve showed up at all, late at night, was a sacrifice of sleeping time. Eddie knows it, and appreciates it. So, he won't keep him. He'll send him back home to bed, or straight to the bakery, wherever he needs to be next, so he can get ready to make the donuts as Steve likes to say. 

"I'm glad you came," Eddie says, running his hand up Steve's arm. 

"Of course, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you as the evil undead."

Eddie grins at him. He really likes this guy. 

"The bats were really believable."

Eddie grins, and tells him all about how he helped design them with his friends. They built the pulley system in Gareth's garage on the cheap, but it works, and well.

Steve nods along, then pulls Eddie into the darkness, where the floodlights don't reach. Eddie goes, willingly, sliding his hands along Steve's waist. 

And then they're kissing, and Eddie couldn't be more fucking thrilled. 

Steve is interested. And Eddie is definitely interested.

Steve's tongue slides along his, and Eddie squeezes him tighter, pulling Steve into his body, wanting to be closer. As close as they can get here in this dark alleyway. 

When Steve pulls back, he presses his forehead to Eddie's, and Eddie tries to look into his eyes this close-up.

"I've wanted to do that since the orchard," Steve says.

"Fuck, me too," Eddie admits. He'd like to do more, too, but Robin is yelling that her alarm is going off, meaning Steve's got to get to the bakery. 

Steve's day is just beginning, and Eddie's is just ending. Their schedules couldn't be more out of sync if they tried.

But Eddie reluctantly lets him go, they say their goodbyes, but Eddie is already scheming how he'll get to see Steve next.

The next morning, Eddie forces himself out of bed at a normal hour so he can go to the bakery. Gareth follows him to the van, tagging along without an invite, but Eddie doesn't care, as long as he can see Steve, it's all good.

Steve's behind the counter, and he grins when he sees Eddie come through the front door, "Hey!"

"Hey, yourself," Eddie says back, looking at the handwritten menu board. "Suggestions are welcome."

And Steve just laughs, and then produces a piece of cobbler that looks sticky and delicious.

"Sold," Eddie replies, taking the plate from him, and then nodding towards Gareth, "and whatever he wants. This is Gareth."

Gareth is looking in the glass case, paying no attention to either of them.

"So, this is the famous Eddie?" a girl who is not Robin asks, sidling up beside Steve at the counter.

"That's Eddie," Steve says with a smile, then introduces her, "This is Di."

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, "Go. Sit with him for a minute. I'll watch the counter," Di offers, pushing Steve from behind the register, and Eddie's grateful.

"Thanks, Di," Steve answers, pulling his apron off over his head, showing a strip of bare skin as it goes. His stomach is hairy and Eddie gulps, probably audibly, like he's in a cartoon.

He wants, he wants, he wants.

Steve picks up his coffee mug, and grabs a piece of cobbler for himself.

"Hey kid, head's up," Eddie says, and Gareth looks just in time to catch Eddie's wallet as Eddie tosses it to him. "Pick something and pay the nice lady."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says, and goes right back to looking at all his options.

Steve leads Eddie over to a table in the corner, and they sit and get to talk face-to-face, for the first time since their first afternoon here. Yeah, sure, he saw Steve last night, that was just a brief hi and bye.

It's nice to sit across from him again, and even nicer when Steve slides his hand forward, lacing their fingers together. Miraculously Gareth doesn't come over and cockblock him like the little shit that he is, instead lingering by the counter. 

Eddie looks back at Steve.

"You know, I don't really date," Steve admits, "I mean, the bakery hours keep my nightlife non-existent. And I've gotten used to that. But I really like you."

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Is he blushing? That's absurd, but he thinks it's probably true. He likes Steve. A lot. And he can deal with weird hours for Steve, he's damn certain. Dates at three in the afternoon? Awesome. He'll have just rolled out of bed a couple hours before that half the time anyway.

"But, I'd like to try. If you want to," Steve says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, I want to. I really like you, too."

Then the phone rings, and it's something Steve has to take, and Eddie glances at him one more time before he holds open the door with the jangly bell for Gareth to exit.

Steve's still looking at him, watching him go, so Eddie winks, and it makes Steve smile.

There's no plan, but Eddie knows he's gonna date the shit out of Steve Harrington.

Turns out, the whole dating with opposite schedules idea was way easier said than done. Eddie works every weekend night, all fall long, because that's the busy time. He works some weeknights, too, but those are easier to trade around for with his friends. So, weekends are definitely out, and he needs date ideas that don't mess with Steve's sleep schedule.

He's reading the paper that Wayne left on the coffee table as he sits on the couch and eats his cereal, when he sees that the local high school football team is playing next week, but that's on Friday. Duh. Friday Night Lights. Even he understands enough about football to get that that's a reference to the night they play. He may have needed three senior years to graduate, but he's not that dense. He keeps reading, and sees that the JV football team plays on Tuesday and the junior high team on Thursday. That's an idea. He doesn't really know what that means, but he knows who would.

"Hey, Wayne!" he yells, and when Wayne rounds the corner Eddie asks, "Tell me. Which is a better game to attend: JV or Junior High?"

"Game of what? Tiddlywinks? Dragons and Dragons?" Wayne prods, teasing him. Eddie damn well knows Wayne remembers what DnD is. He bought enough of those books for him in high school, it has to be seared into his old man brain. 

But Wayne glances over at him from his recliner he's just sat down in, waiting for Eddie to spill it.

Eddie lowers his voice and mumbles, "Football."

"What'd you say, I didn't hear you?" Wayne drawls, but he's grinning like he heard exactly what Eddie said.

"Shut up, old man," Eddie teases, "I'm sort of dating a guy. He likes football. Used to play. I thought it might be nice to take him to a game, and I obviously can't do a Friday night game this year because of work. But I thought Steve might like to go to one of these other games?"

"Steve, huh? This Steve have a last name?" Wayne asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Wayne doesn't need to try to vet this guy like he did every single person Eddie dated in high school. He's a grown man now, almost thirty. He picks better these days.

At least, he hopes he does.

"Harrington," Eddie answers, "and you're ignoring the question. JV? Junior High?" Then points his finger at the newspaper, crinkling it, "Or the local flag football team plays on Sundays. Help a guy out. Jeez."

But Wayne is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. Eddie's never seen him this shocked in his life. And Eddie did some wild shit in high school that Wayne swears made him go gray and bald.

"Yes, yes, I'm willing to go to a game. We're all shocked. Make fun. I have it coming. But close your mouth before you catch flies."

"No. Just. Steve Harrington, Ed? You, my nephew, who hates all sports sight unseen, is dating Steve Harrington? Heisman Trophy winner as a sophomore, that Steve Harrington?"

Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know about all that. He runs a bakery."

Wayne lets out a breathy laugh, "Right. He runs a bakery."

"He does," Eddie confirms. 

Wayne picks up his phone, puts on his reading glasses so Eddie knows he's serious, and finally turns the screen towards Eddie, "This your boy?"

Eddie smiles. He's younger, but yeah, that's definitely Steve, "Yep, that's Steve."

"I'll be damned, I knew he was from Indiana, but I didn't expect him to come back to our neck of the woods to run a bakery."

"You know my boyfriend, Wayne?" Eddie teases, lilting his voice, and batting his eyes.

"Anybody that followed football in the last decade knows of your boyfriend, Ed. He was gonna be a star, a franchise quarterback, for any team lucky enough to draft him."

Steve had said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to go pro, and now Eddie is doubting the validity of that, "He said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make it pro."

Wayne laughs, "That boy would've been a first round pick. He's just being humble."

"Oh," Eddie says, "that's pretty cool. It's too bad he got hurt, then."

"It is," Wayne agrees.

"If he was as good as you say, why didn't he just go pro right out of high school?" Eddie asks, thinking this over. He's really not sure why you'd take the risk playing college football before you could make the big bucks.

"That's not how the NFL draft works. You have to be three years past graduation from high school before you're eligible. And what else are you gonna do for those three years, if not play ball at college?"

"Oh," Eddie says, then adds, "Good thing I wasn't good at football. I'd have been an old man trying to enter the draft."

Wayne laughs. It wasn't so funny when Eddie was bearing down on twenty-one and still trying to get that damn diploma, but they can laugh about it now. Water under the bridge.

Eddie then asks, "So, about the game…"

Wayne steered him towards the JV game, but told him over and over that all of the options were beneath the level of football that Steve Harrington was used to watching, or playing. 

Eddie decides to take him anyway.

Eddie buys the four dollar tickets at the gate from a mom sitting at a card table with a metal cash box in front of her, a button with her son's face pinned to her coat. He gives her a ten, and tells her to keep the change when she holds it in her hand, unmoving.

But that's just because she's staring at Steve, kind of starry-eyed. He is attractive, that's undeniable, and Eddie puffs up a little that he's the one getting to date him tonight.

Then Steve is accosted for pictures no less than seven times on the way to the stands, and Eddie wonders if he's made a mistake here. He didn't think it through, didn't understand that Steve would be known here.

Eddie escapes to the concessions stand, and when he comes back, arms full, there's a group of kids surrounding Steve. And Steve's engaged, and giving them what they want, clearly, but this isn't a good date. This seems more like he's trotted Steve out for the wolves. 

Everyone else finally clears out as kickoff happens, leaving them alone, and Eddie takes his seat next to Steve on the bleachers.

"Uh, did I fuck this up?" Eddie whispers, handing Steve a tray of nachos.

"No. No way, this is great," Steve reassures, a big smile on his face.

"I truly didn't understand that you'd be recognized here," Eddie says, "I don't know anything about sports. I'm in over my head. I just thought, well, maybe you'd like to see a game. Even if it's just kids."

"This is great, Eddie. You did great, honest," Steve says. "I'm not recognized outside of football. Don't worry. This isn't an everyday occurrence. This is a very isolated incident, because of where we are. Some of these kids probably watched me play. I'm not that old."

Eddie laughs, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He definitely didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable.

And if he is, he never lets on. Instead, Steve explains the game to him as it goes, and it's a slow enough pace that Eddie thinks maybe he's understanding it. The football Steve had been watching on TV in the bakery had moved so fucking fast he had no hopes of following, not even when there was an instant replay to slow it down.

Steve's never seen these kids play before, but he can read them all like open books, calling plays, calling probable results before they happen. And he's right. Nine times out of ten, he's right. 

He should probably coach football. But maybe that's too painful? Eddie's definitely not gonna bring it up. 

They leave at halftime, and Eddie's sure it's only partly because Steve has to be up in less than eight hours. 

He still thinks it went well, because Steve leans over in the van and kisses him.

Eddie suddenly feels like he can't feel his face, even as he kisses back, hand cupping Steve's face, just wanting to touch him.

Eddie likes him so goddamn much, and as Steve pulls away, Eddie feels like they are no longer struggling to make a connection. They've done it. They're getting there.

Over the next few weeks, they have half-dozen more half-dates. Eddie catches the first quarter of a college football game, Steve's alma mater, on the television at the bakery with him before having to head to the maze for the night.

A few days later they grab fast food in Steve's car, and Eddie's definitely trying hard not to make a mess. Steve's car is nice, and Eddie's only used to his shitty van.

They carve out an hour to just lay in Steve's bed, kissing and touching, and eventually fucking before they need to part ways again.

Eddie wonders if they'll ever get to actually sleep in the same bed with shifts this ass-backwards from each other.

Spooky season comes and goes, and Eddie's back looking for some kind of other temporary work. He's complaining to Steve that nobody is hiring, even when they say they're hiring.

"Come work at the bakery," Steve says, "then maybe we'll finally get to see each other for longer than an hour at a time."

Eddie starts to say no, starts to deflect in a knee-jerk way, but then decides he'd really like to do that, "Really?"

"Really," Steve confirms. 

"I don't know how to bake, you know that," Eddie teases.

"You're not coming there to bake. Please, no. But you could run the register. Right?"

And Eddie thinks he'd like to do just that, so he nods and nods.

So, they work together, and sometimes go home with each other after. Both of them dozing on the couch while Wayne watches football, or cuddling up at Steve's place while Robin whines about it being her turn to cook dinner.

And Eddie ends up loving Robin, because working with her at the bakery might be almost as fun as it is working with Steve. She's not there all the time, but when she is, they run the front together, while Steve and Di have the back, and it's the least work feeling work he's ever done.

She's funny, and snarky, and loves Steve so much Eddie can feel it rolling off of her in waves. She kept him from getting hurt further. She made sure he'd be okay, even if Eddie's sure Steve felt anything but at the time.

He talks up Steve's baked goods, upselling easily, turning a half-dozen box into a full dozen more often than not. Eventually he sneaks around while Steve isn't looking, and hangs his own picture on the wall, labeled underneath as Employee of the Month, as a joke.

When Steve finally notices it, it stays. Eddie's part of the place, now. And he couldn't be happier about that. Harrington's is fun, and relaxed, and he's honestly never gotten this invested in a job before. He wants it to succeed, because he wants Steve, and the rest of his friends, to succeed. And yeah, he's sure Steve has a lot to do with that, but still, the fact that he's enjoying it is a bonus he hadn't foreseen coming.

He helps clean up every afternoon, so they can get out of there faster, together. Today, with the cold winter air blowing, snow flurries are blustering around, stinging his face as they hit. So, he hugs Steve from behind as he locks the back door in the alley where they park, hiding his face in Steve's coat.

"Hello to you, too," Steve flirts, and Eddie smirks as soon as he realizes this is gonna be a short afternoon, because when they get home, they are definitely going straight to bed. 

And they do just that. It's cold outside, but the warm winter sunlight is pouring through the windows, made brighter by the snow on the ground, and Eddie's in love.

Steve looks fucking gorgeous, the light hitting him that way, letting that glow he always has about him shine through from the inside out.

Eddie runs his fingers over his body, his athletic frame that sees no playing time, anymore. He runs to keep in shape, but Eddie thinks he'd run too if he had that kind of albatross slung around his neck. If he'd lost the thing he loved most, the thing he'd hung his whole hat on.

If he'd lost possible rings and millions of dollars.

Steve's almost twenty-nine. He'd be hitting his peak, his best years of play.

But Steve's happy. He's not a bitter guy. He loves his bakery, and he loves his friends and-

"What's," Steve breathes out, easing up on his pace, "what's with the face?"

"I love you," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, so fucking wide it feels like it cracks open Eddie's chest, "Well, don't look so sad about it then."

And Eddie laughs, reaching up to grasp Steve's hips, helping him regain his momentum. The spiral he was headed down on Steve's behalf, broken.

Steve doesn't want Eddie dwelling on the past. Especially if he doesn't do it himself. There are no pity parties happening in Steve Harrington's orbit.

"I love you, too. Now fuck me like you're not gonna cry about it."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, so fucking charmed and delighted by this man that he loves. He'll fuck him all right. 

"Hold on then, big boy," Eddie teases, and thrusts upwards, carrying the weight of Steve with him off the bed.

Maybe instead, they'll just hit their primes together.

Eddie starts to become a morning person against his will as the months wear on, and Steve will have to pay for that, eventually. But not today.

No, today he's more than fine with going to bed at eight-thirty, dicking down his boyfriend, then afterwards both of them will be sound asleep by nine. 

Gareth is hanging around the bakery more and more, and before Eddie realizes it, Steve and Di have taught Gareth how to bake. And he's somehow good at it. Gareth eventually weasels his way into a full-time job, too. Which gets Eddie's wheels turning. Maybe by next fall, Eddie can surprise Steve with tickets to an NFL game to watch his friend play, because together they are slowly building up enough of a staff to run the store in their absence.

It doesn't have to just be Steve anymore. It can be all of them.

Next fall, Eddie thinks.

And he smiles.

He's planning ahead, now. Planning for a future, one that he intends to share with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun! 🍎

[stvrkeysgal]

Okay so I’ve been sitting on this for a while. It’s not a rafe request more of a Drew. So you know how there was a tik tok trend where they called their s/o like their boyfriend/ husband or just their name. I was thinking of that but with a twist. You just go the whole day calling Drew whatever characters name he’s played for example Rafe, Zach or Eugene. I hope this makes sense 😭

who's who? — drew starkey

pairing: drew starkey x reader | warnings: none for now!

thank u sm for this, babes !! i loved writing this 🥹

drew had taken a day-off from filming for a week, which meant he had you all to himself—and him all yours—for a while.

being with him after filming for a while meant more dates, shopping or grocery trips, drew either taking you to the mall for shopping or the local library, and many more private moments that neither of you would be willing to share to the public.

today, however, you decided to mess with your boyfriend and do something you've never done before.

—

drew was cooking in the kitchen when you woke up and walked downstairs. his back was turned to you, and he was making coffee when you came up to him and hugged him from behind. "good morning, rafe." you even made the show of kissing his back softly, nuzzling your face against him for effect.

he turns to face you, the coffee machine forgotten from behind him. "what did you just call me?" you had to physically hold yourself back from laughing straight in his face. "what do you mean? i just said good morning."

"no, no. i heard something else." you just looked at him, pretending to be dumbfounded. "you know what, forget it. good morning to you too," drew leans down to kiss the top of your head and returns to making the coffee.

the two of you sat at the dinner table, sitting across from each other. you realized how quiet it was so you decided to turn things up a notch. you glanced briefly at drew before speaking. "can you pass me that one, please, rafe?"

"okay, i definitely heard that one." drew drops his fork and stares at you for a few seconds. "heard what? i was asking for the cup beside you." he just shook his head and handed the cup to you wordlessly, but somehow still keeping the same confused look on his face.

—

after breakfast, the two of you decided to go out and spend the day at the nearby bookstore. drew was looking around, just following and looking out for you. when you saw a book you wanted to grab but the shelf was too far up, drew immediately stepped in and grabbed it for you.

you kiss his cheek softly and say, "thanks, zach. i appreciate it." once again, drew looks at you, face scrunched in absolute confusion. "great, now you're calling me that. real smooth, baby." a soft chuckle escapes your lips, which you tried to cover up with a cough.

"at this point, i'm really convinced you're hearing things. are you going crazy?" you glanced at drew, your eyes feigning mock innocence. "yes, i am going crazy—" drew, ever the gentleman he was, decided to drop the topic and sighed instead. "you know what? nevermind." he raised his hands in defeat and walked away, which left you dying of laughter internally.

part of you wanted to just give it up since you could tell that drew was getting annoyed, but then pushed through it since this shit was a whole new thing to you.

the two of you eventually left the bookstore and headed to other places—the mall, designer stores and bakeries. you eased up a bit and let drew off the hook, but then promised yourself you'd continue once the two of you get home.

—

it was dinner time when drew was cooking for the both of you. he was mixing up some pasta and sauce on the stove—which you took as a sign that you'll be having spaghetti tonight.

when drew sees you approaching, he smiles warmly at you, extending his arms out to hug you. "hey, baby." he mutters against the top of your head, kissing you there softly. "hey, gene."

"jesus christ." drew sighs and shook his head softly. "you know... i already caught up with what you're doing, but i just wanted to see how long you'll actually live up to it."

"uh huh," you say with a smirk. "so basically you just allowed me to call you by different names the whole day with little to no complaints." drew nods by then, smiling at you.

"it doesn't matter. i love you too much to get pissed at you for that." you giggle when drew pulls you closer to him by your waist. "and you played them." you say, placing a soft kiss on drew's lips.

"exactly." he returns the kiss with the same softness.

"anyway, dinner?"

a/n: currently working on some more stuff rnnnn 😝 stay tuned y'all

drew / rafe's masterlist

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“You can rest your head on me, I don’t mind.” I Joseph Woll ✿

Requested: yes/no [I hope this is close to what you imagined bb]

Summary: From the moment Joseph Woll steps into the small café, everything shifts. Despite the shadows of your past, no one seems a better match than the goaltender in his shining hockey gear.

Tropes & warnings: no warnings, it's just pure fluff 😊✿ strangers to lovers, hesitant reader, adorable boyfriend!Joe x reader

Other notes: At our next stop for the Followers Festival, I'm thrilled to introduce Joseph Woll once more 🤗 He’s as charming as ever, and with his extension with the Leafs, he remains close to our hearts ❤️

Word count: 3.6K

➼｡ﾟ

When you started your shift as nothing but a regular barista on this seemingly ordinary July morning, you had no idea what the day had in store for you. The air was already warm and slightly humid, typical for Toronto in midsummer, and the sun peeked through the buildings, casting a soft golden glow on the cobblestone streets. You took a deep breath, savouring the stillness of the early morning before the city fully awoke. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

You unlocked the doors of the small, cosy café, tucked away in one of the hidden corners of the city, its charm known only to locals and a few lucky tourists. The scent of freshly baked pastries from the bakery next door mingled with the aroma of coffee beans, creating a comforting atmosphere that always lifted your spirits. You spent the first hour preparing to open, moving through the familiar routine with practised ease. The rich, earthy scent of coffee filled the air as you ground the beans, the soft hiss of the espresso machine breaking the silence.

The café itself was a quaint little place, with mismatched furniture that somehow fit together perfectly. Vintage posters adorned the walls, and small potted plants added a touch of greenery. You arranged the pastries in the display case, making sure the croissants, muffins, and cookies looked enticing. You wiped down the tables, fluffed the cushions on the worn leather sofas, and set up the chalkboard sign outside, detailing the day's specials in your best attempt at fancy handwriting.

Despite the tranquillity of the café, your mind was a whirlwind. It was going to be a slow Sunday, just what you needed after the stressful week you had endured. The memories of several heated arguments with your now ex-boyfriend played on a loop in your head, as the fights had been intense, filled with hurtful words and accusations. Yet, the breakup, though painful, had brought a strange sense of relief. You were free from the constant tension, but the wounds were still fresh, and the loneliness was starting to creep in.

_

It had been everything you dreaded. The two of you had been together for three years, slowly growing older together. But you were both still very young, only 20 years old, just stepping into adulthood and trying to navigate the complexities that came with it.

You worked your part-time job at the café alongside your studies in English literature, as you had always been captivated by romance novels, losing yourself in stories of passionate love and soulmates. You dreamed of experiencing the kind of love that made your heart race and your breath catch. But your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend as of two days ago—was far from any of the book boyfriends you’d read about. He was sweet and kind, sure, and he treated you well enough and never harmed you. Yet, you never felt like you were truly in love, like how they described it in those books. You never had the flutter in your stomach or the difficulty in breathing just thinking of him. Your palms didn’t get sweaty, and your knees didn’t go weak. You could think perfectly logically, and you never longed for him when you were apart.

With your ex, you simply felt secure. It was as though you were fulfilling the norms and expectations of society by finding a partner to settle down with. Everything was planned. When you’d both finished your studies, you’d then move in together after finding secure jobs and a stable income. And then you’d prioritise building a family after your wedding. It was all mapped out.

But you couldn’t help but feel like it was all wrong. Over the years, he grew less sweet and kind, becoming more rude and cruel in the way he spoke to you. His once gentle words turned harsh, and his patience wore thin over the smallest things. You had never been an explorer in regards to sexual activity, yet he’d encouraged you to try things out with him. Though a part of you felt pressured, you went along with it, but you never truly experienced the wonderful high many women spoke of. It was more just him doing his thing while you followed along until he reached his release. It felt wrong. It was nothing like you imagined a romantic relationship should feel like. Nothing like the tales you read about.

As time went on, you grew more convinced that those stories were just that—stories. The passionate love, the soulmates, the fairy tale endings—they all seemed like fantasies, unattainable and unrealistic. Your relationship had become a checklist of societal expectations rather than a journey of love and discovery. Moreover, your boyfriend wasn’t as good a person as you’d thought all those years. And though the realisation was painful, it also brought a sense of clarity. You knew you couldn’t continue living a life that felt so hollow, so far removed from the dreams you once cherished.

And so, you made the difficult decision to end things. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope, a belief that perhaps, somewhere out there, the kind of love you had read about in your beloved romance novels could exist for you.

_

You took a moment for yourself, leaning against the counter and closing your eyes. The café was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape from the chaos of your personal life. Here, you could lose yourself in the rhythm of making coffee, the friendly chatter of regular customers, and the peaceful ambience. You embraced the day with a smile, determined to find solace in the simple joys of your job.

So, as you flipped the sign to "Open," you took another deep breath, ready to face whatever the day might bring. The familiar routine was comforting, and you hoped the slow yet steady stream of customers would help keep your mind off your troubles. Little did you know, this ordinary July morning was about to turn into something far from ordinary.

And his name was Joseph Woll.

You were wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. You looked up and were greeted by a tall figure stepping inside, shaking off the light drizzle that had just begun outside. At first, you didn’t recognise him. His scruffy beard was a departure from the clean-shaven look he sported in all the pictures and interviews you had seen. Yet, it added a rugged charm to his already handsome face. But then, his eyes—those dreamy, captivating eyes—met yours, and it hit you. Joseph Woll, the Toronto Maple Leafs goaltender, was standing right in front of you.

Joseph approached the counter with a relaxed smile, his presence bringing warmth to the otherwise dull day. "Good morning," he said, his voice soft yet confident. "Can I get a medium latte, please?"

You could hardly believe it. Here was a professional athlete, a local celebrity, standing in your little café. Yet, you managed to respond, though a bit shakily, "Of course, coming right up."

And as you began preparing his order, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He was casually dressed in a hoodie and jeans, yet he carried himself with a relaxed elegance. You noticed how his eyes scanned the café, taking in the cosy decor, the mismatched furniture, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. And when his gaze then returned to you, there was a softness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat.

Joseph was an absolute sweetheart.

You felt his eyes linger on you a little longer than perhaps they should have, just like yours lingered on him. It was as if there was an inexplicable connection, a silent understanding that passed between you. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you hoped he didn't notice the blush creeping up your neck.

You were almost unable to speak, yet you managed to say the simple words any barista would instinctively say to a customer. "Here you go, one medium latte." Your hands felt slightly shaky as you handed him the cup, but you managed to keep your composure.

Joseph took the coffee with a grateful nod. "Thanks," he said, his eyes twinkling.

As he turned to leave, you couldn't help but mentally facepalm yourself. What’s wrong with me? you muttered under your breath. It was the first time someone, let alone a stranger, had made you feel so weak in the knees, caused your heartbeat to quicken, and your lips to tingle.

You watched him walk out into the drizzle, the bell above the door chiming softly as he left. It was just a brief encounter, a one-off experience, and you knew you’d probably never see him again. Yet, you felt a thrill you hadn’t experienced in a long time—a flutter of excitement that lingered long after he was gone.

For the rest of your shift, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Every time the door opened, you found yourself hoping it was him coming back - the memory of his kind eyes and warm smile stayed with you, a small beacon of light in an otherwise grey day. Even though you knew it was probably unlikely, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. It was a sensation you’d thought was reserved for fairy tales, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, those romance stories you adored could hold a kernel of truth.

However, to your great surprise, the following Sunday, Joseph came back. It was the same early morning time, just as the sun was starting to break through the clouds and cast a soft light into the café. The shop was quiet, with only a few regulars occupying the cosy corners. When the door opened and the bell chimed, you looked up to see him standing there, a familiar, charming smile spreading across his face.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice warm and friendly. "One medium latte, please,” he placed his order, and you noticed how his eyes seemed to light up when they met yours.

"Coming right up," you nodded, trying to keep your composure, but inside, your heart was racing. 

And as you prepared his drink, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him again, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. When you then handed him the latte, he thanked you with that same sweet smile before turning to leave. The bell chimed again as he exited, and you found yourself staring after him once more, a small, hopeful smile on your lips.

The next time you saw Joseph was on Wednesday evening, when you were working an extra shift to earn a bit more money during the summer. The café was busier this time, with a steady stream of customers keeping you on your toes. Yet, as you were in the middle of making a cappuccino, you saw him walk in again, causing your heart to skip a beat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He waited patiently while you finished the order you were working on, and when it was his turn, you shared a silent moment of recognition. "Medium latte?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, please," he replied with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling. 

And as you yet again prepared his drink, you felt his gaze on you, and you couldn’t help but look up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away. You then handed him his drink, and he offered a quiet thank you before turning to leave. Yet, just as he reached the door, he glanced back, catching you looking in his direction - causing you to quickly look away, feeling your cheeks flush.

"Shit…" you muttered to yourself, slightly embarrassed.

Over a week passed before you saw Joseph again, this time on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Most people were out enjoying the lovely weather, so the café was relatively quiet. And with only one other coworker busy chatting with a friend, you decided to pick up one of your favourite romance novels to pass the time.

You had no idea how long you had been absorbed in your book when a familiar, endearing voice suddenly broke into your dream world. "What are you reading?"

Startled, you looked up to see Joseph standing there, his handsome face alight with curiosity. "Oh, um… it’s just a silly romance… nothing special," you stammered, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It must be pretty engaging if you were so absorbed," he chuckled. "I think I’ve been standing here for about ten minutes and you didn’t even notice me."

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry about that," you quickly apologised, feeling rather unprofessional.

But Joseph simply laughed, waving off your apology. "It’s fine. It was actually quite entertaining watching you read."

You felt your cheeks flush a little. "So… the usual?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation back to familiar ground.

"Yes, please. And maybe you could help me with something else…" he trailed off, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Sure, anything," you replied, curious.

"So, how many times do I have to come here and hope that you’re working before it doesn’t seem weird for me to ask for your name and number?" he asked, his tone playful yet sincere.

You found yourself gasping, completely caught off guard. "Well… um… maybe… this could be the final one?" you managed to say, a shy smile forming on your lips. “I’m y/n.” 

Joseph’s smile widened, and he handed you his phone. "Great. Here you go. I’m Joe by the way.” 

With trembling fingers, you then typed in your name and number, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. And as you handed his phone back, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be the beginning of something special, something that could finally make you believe in the kind of love you had always dreamed of.

_

Dating Joseph Woll turned out to be remarkably close to what you’d imagined from your romance novels, and it felt as though the universe had conspired to make your dreams come true. And with it being the hockey off-season, Joseph had plenty of time to spend with you, and he made every moment count.

Your early dates were a delightful blend of excitement and comfort. Joseph would pick you up with a thoughtful compliment and occasionally a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You visited cosy cafes, museums, explored Toronto’s hidden gems, and enjoyed long walks by the lake, where he’d hold your hand and listen intently to your stories and dreams.

One evening, he then surprised you with a picnic at a quiet spot in High Park. And as you sat together on a chequered blanket, sharing laughter and homemade sandwiches, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Joseph’s gentle, caring nature made you feel cherished in a way you’d never experienced before. His eyes often lingered on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and every touch, every gentle kiss, felt like a promise of something beautiful and romantic.

Then during another one of your dates, you found yourself at a quaint bookstore. And as you browsed through the shelves, Joseph noticed you eyeing a romance novel. Quietly, while you were distracted, he decided to purchase it and later that evening, he presented it to you with a shy smile. "I thought you might enjoy this," he said, his eyes twinkling with delight. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you.

Except for one week when he had to go home to St. Louis, Joseph was always around. During that week, you missed him terribly, but he made sure the distance didn’t feel so great. You chatted or called every day, sharing the little details of your lives, your hopes, and your dreams. His voice over the phone was a comforting balm, and his laughter a melody that brightened your days. And as the days passed, you both exchanged pictures and videos, keeping the connection strong despite the miles between you.

And the week apart only strengthened your bond. When Joseph finally returned, he wrapped you in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet as he whispered how much he had missed you. The separation had only made your hearts grow fonder, and you realised that this was the kind of love you had always dreamed of—a love that was patient, kind, and unwavering.

Joseph had a way of turning even the simplest moments into something magical. Whether you were cooking together, watching a movie, or simply enjoying a comfortable silence, he made you feel like the most important person in the world. His steadfast support and understanding helped you heal from the wounds of your past relationship, and for the first time in a long while, you felt genuinely happy. And as the summer days gave way to crisp autumn evenings, your relationship with Joseph only continued to flourish. 

_

However, as you and Joseph grew closer, he began to notice the subtle signs of your hesitation. Despite the kisses and intimate moments you shared, he observed how you occasionally tensed up or hesitated before fully relaxing into his embrace. There were times when, while wrapped in each other's arms, he could sense a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes or a momentary withdrawal in your touch. It was as if you were constantly bracing yourself, hesitant to fully surrender to the emotions you were feeling.

So, Joseph chose to approach you with a gentle patience that he didn’t mind at all. His priority was to make you feel completely at ease with him. He focused on ensuring that every touch was tender, every word was kind, and he never pressured you into anything more than you were ready to give. He believed in creating a space where you felt safe and cherished. Every date, every conversation, and every shared moment was filled with understanding and care. He became attuned to your needs, ensuring that his actions and words always conveyed his respect for your boundaries.

But one evening, as autumn shadows began to lengthen and the first hints of a chilly breeze crept through the open windows, something felt off. It might have been the stress of the new hockey season starting or perhaps the quiet, introspective mood you’d been in all night. Joseph couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of your discomfort, but he could sense that something was troubling you. 

So, as you both sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a gentle light over the room, he turned to you. His expression was serious yet full of concern.

“You can rest your head on me, love, I don’t mind,” he said softly, his voice laced with genuine care. “Or if you need to cry or just need a moment to relax. I don't care. I just want you to feel comfortable and happy with me.”

His words cut through the fog of your thoughts, and you felt a pang in your chest. It was clear that Joseph was offering you an emotional sanctuary, and you knew it was time to open up. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth and reassurance of his embrace, and finally allowed yourself to lean into him.

“I’ve been cautious about fully committing because of a bad relationship I had before,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Not that I think you’re anything like that. On the contrary, you’re so perfect that I’m scared of making a mistake.”

Joseph listened attentively, his hand gently stroking your back as you spoke. When you finished, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a blend of warmth and understanding.

“You don’t have to worry about making mistakes, Y/N,” he said softly. “I want you just the way you are—past relationships and all.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. “But why? Why are you so patient with me?”

The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and his smile was both gentle and reassuring. “I get it now,” he said quietly, “you’ve never been in love before.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion knitting your brows together.

“Y/N, you could never do anything wrong with me. I am so in love with you that it doesn’t matter what you say or do, as long as it’s not that you don’t want to be with me. All I want is to be with you, to see you happy. And when you’re ready, I’d love to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink as you took in the moment. Here was the sweetest man you’d ever known, and he was with you. The realisation of his unwavering support and love brought tears to your eyes.

“I think… I think I’m in love with you too, Joe,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You make me feel all those wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing, and indescribable things that no one else ever has.”

Joseph’s smile widened, his eyes shimmering with joy. He pulled you closer, his lips gently brushing your forehead. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear,” he murmured. “I promise to always be here for you, to make you feel loved and cherished every single day.”

And as you nestled into his embrace, a profound sense of peace washed over you. For the first time, you let yourself fully believe in the love you had always dreamed of, knowing that with Joseph, it was not just a dream, but a beautiful reality.