#we are at 1% install and have been for a bit

[ghostybaby000]

Never Yours | Part 3

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn't know what to expect while listening to your cry's on the phone praying you wouldn't loose consciousness. Part one posted above to start this read!

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla

(not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

As quietly as his large build would let him, he crossed the room just to the foot of your bed. He looked to all the machines around you and buttons that were beeping or flashing, it all made him feel more anxious. His eyes landed on your heart monitor where they rested for quite some time, he watched the small screen and lines and noticed his own heart begin to resume a normal rate. A smile came over your face as you saw him and tried to reach an arm out to him as he swiftly moved to the side of the bed. He gently grabbed your hand and placed it down on your stomach, he didn’t want you moving one bit.

You put your other hand over the top of his and stared into his eyes, without words trying to tell him that you were okay. Looking at him you adjust to sit up as you tried to clear your throat. 

From behind him, he pulled a visitor’s chair as close as it could be to the bed and sat down intent on staying every second he was allowed. As soon as you had awoken you had asked to see Simon, not giving yourself any time to take in the injuries you had acquired or to think back to what had happened. 

Tears began to flood your eyes as you remembered the events that had unfolded and left you starting to shaking. Immediately Simons eyes grew wide as he stood from the chair and cupped your face with his large hand.

‘Dove what is it? Are you in pain?’ The nervousness in his voice told you that he too was scared, confirmed by him calling for a nurse from the bedside- never letting go of your hand. Clearing your throat again you take in a shaky breath and touch Simons arm to get his focus back to you. 

A nurse had made their way into the room with a haste but you and Simon both assured her as she made her way back out of the room that everything was okay. He looked back to you and leaned over so you wouldn’t strain your voice.

‘It’s not the pain Simon, I-I just haven’t processed it all yet.’  He let out a small breath and sat down again in the small chair. He brushed his thumb gently over your hand and looked at you with his brows furrowed.

‘So much happened so fast, I don’t think I’m remembering all of the details right.’ He pushed a tear off your cheek with a smile.

‘All that matters is that you’re alright. Whoever did this-‘ He took a pause to again to inhale and then continue. 

‘Whoever did this will answer to me, the only thing you need to worry about is getting better.’ Your eyes began to feel heavy with the sedatives you had been given as your muscles relaxed, Simon continued to gently thumb over your hand. 

Hours passed as you slept, Simon watching you and every person who entered the room ensuring that nobody was taking you again from him. He listened to the shoes shuffling by in the hallway and watched your chest fall and rise with each breath, grateful that you were able to rest. 

His phone pocket began to buzz, he used his unoccupied hand to retrieve it. 

‘Price’

He looked to you and slowly began to rise, being as quiet as possible, kissing your hand and gently resting it on your stomach he made his way into the hall to answer the call.

‘What do you have?’ His voice was stern as he spoke, silent to hear any information after he had asked. 

‘Well we went back to the neighborhood and found that the neighbors have cameras installed on their doorbells. We were able to see when the attack happened, and we think we know who’s done it as well.’ 

‘The attack, was this more than one person?’ 

‘Not that we know of yet, just one made their way into the home. Faking as a inspector of some kind, we can’t see the trucks logo. Y/N opened the door to greet them, and then tried to close it but they…they made their way inside.’ A pause caught in Simons throat thinking again of how small you were, his anger rising. 

‘Thank you. Tell me when you have anything else.’

‘Will do.’ 

As he hung up the phone and made his way back into the room, you stirred slightly. He quickened his pace to be back at your side again pushing your stray hair strands from your face. You drifted back to sleep as he resumed his position in the chair. 

He began to think over what Price had said and the details that he could use to his advantage. He thought to you as well, how you must have been so afraid. SO afraid to of being alone and the pain that ensued would surely leave you scarred. He thought for another hour or so, taking a water when the nurse offered it still refusing to leave the room. 

You spoke out then to him, the first time he didn’t really understand what you had said, and asked you to repeat.

‘I knew you...’ 

‘What...Dove do you need something?’ he whispered with his low voice, trying to not startle you if you were still sleeping.

Your eyes slowly opened as you reached this time to cover his hand. You cleared your dry throat as you spoke again, this time more clearly.

‘I knew to call you.’ A smile started over your face as Simon patted your hand assuming the pain medication was talking.

‘What do you mean lovie?’ He grinned back to you, his eyes never loosing track of yours. 

You opened your eyes more fully this time, now staring at him. Again the prickle of tears began to sting. 

‘I knew that you would be there faster than an ambulance… I knew you would get to me first.’ 

He stared to you for another moment before allowing his head to fall to the floor. He was feeling his own eyes begin to sting, for he didn’t agree. He should have been the one to take it, he should be the one recovering, he should have never left, or he should have taken you with him in the least. 

He looked back up to you and instead pushed the thoughts out of his mind, standing to plant a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes slowly began to close again as he whispered to you,

‘Always.’

Hours passed as the night progressed, Simon now letting his own eyes close but never succumbing to sleep. 

Nurses came in and out to check your vitals throughout the evening, eventually the doctor came in and asked to discuss the surgery and the aftercare. You sat a little higher in the bed, wincing as you did so. Simon pushed himself out of his chair to help sit you up properly, being soft with every movement. Once you both had gotten situated, the doctor went over the procedure. 

You noticed that as the doctor went on, Simons knee only bounced harder, his hands becoming more sweaty as he wiped them on his pants. He would look over to you and smile, although you could tell it pained him to see you hurting. The doctor finished talking over the surgery and explained that a nurse would be by to check the dressings. Before leaving he pulled Simon into the hallway and gave him more specifications on taking care of you when you returned home, along with some paperwork. He listened very closely, intent on helping you recover as best he could. He shook the doctors hand as he began to leave, but the doctor didn’t let go entirely-looking to Simon.

‘She is very lucky to have you, there’s no telling if she would have made it had you not gotten her here.’ 

He felt a lump in his throat as he again thanked the doctor and made his way back into your room. A nurse came in not to long afterwards and asked if you’d like to be alone for the dressing change. You told her that you wanted Simon to stay so long as he wanted to, looking over to Simon who gave a small nod of approval.

You see his jaw clench as she slowly pulled down the cover to see your wrapping, he hated himself for not being the one to take the blow. He took your hand in his as she began to undo your dressing, and when she had gotten it entirely off Simon had gone ridged in his chair. The nurse asked if he was alright before moving on and showing Simon how to care for her wound. He watched her very closely, at one point staring her down when she made you groan out. She completed the changing process and Simon was confident he was capable of treating it from home, where he wished to be. 

He thought of the scene again that he walked into, remembering that the house had been left like that- and he didn’t want you to go back to see the mess. He watched over your face as you fell again into a sleep, taking the time to notice how delicate your hand was in his.  

You awoke again a few hours later to Simon watching something on the small TV, the sound muted. He heard you stir and turned his attention to you seeing that you were awake, and asked if you were alright.  You confirmed that you were okay before Simon pondered over the events. He didn’t want to ask you to retell one of the worst moments of your life but felt it would be better him asking than an officer. Food is sent out to the rooms, as Simon sat by watching you slowly eat. Knowing you were safe allowed more room for anger to take hold in his mind, feeling a rage that burned like fire. He wanted so badly to get his hands on whoever had done this to you. He knew that asking you questions would feel horrible, asking you to recreate the moments that had caused you so much pain, but knew that you would have important information that he needed to find the monster.

You sat up fully now and looked at Simon, he was very focused on his thoughts. You run your hand over his arm that was resting on the chair, getting him to look at you with a smile. You take a sip of water to clear your throat as you speak to him.

‘I didn’t know what to do, Simon.’ His brows furrowed and his grip around your hand intensified. 

‘I know. You shouldn’t ever have to prepare for something like this...’ His voice getting more broken as he continued to speak, looking to you tears begin to form in his eyes. 

‘And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.’ He looked to you like you had never seen him before. He was speaking words he didn’t want to be true and it pained him to see you in such a state. You took the time now to cut him off before his mind could get to him any further. 

‘Simon you were. You got me out of there and are the reason I am able to sit here and talk with you now.’ His head fell to the floor, the thought of you not making it scared him even when you were here in front of him, quite alive. You pulled his head to look at you, tears forming in your own eyes as you went on.

‘Thank you, Simon. Thank you for getting to me.’ It took no more than a few seconds for Simon to be over you, hugging you as lightly as he could without hurting you. His warm lips kissed your forehead for longer than necessary as he pulled back just enough to see your face. The rage in him now was boiling over the edge, he would find whoever did this, and they would pay. He tried to be as patient as possible when speaking to you over the events, he didn’t want to make you feel any pressure or panic when talking to him.

‘I know it may be hard, but do you think you could try and tell me about…what happened?’ He felt the room get colder and your hand stiffen in his. He searched your face for any clue to what you were thinking. 

‘I…’ The thoughts played over in your mind going far to quickly to understand them individually. You knew that Simon would do anything and everything to avenge your pains, looking down to your bandaged abdomen, he wouldn’t stop until they had been found. 

‘I can try.’ You smiled up to him slowly as he took in a breath and nodded.

 Where were you going to begin? 

[baekuras]

sorry guys I can't play Baldurs Gate with you yet, it needs to install for a bit :/

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?

*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. 

Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada. 

Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer. 

And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year. 

Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred. 

And more pissing off your rival. 

Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that. 

It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second. 

First loser as they call it. 

The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it. 

Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be. 

He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them. 

When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone. 

“Charlie!

The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him. 

Y/n Verstappen. 

You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course. 

Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years. 

“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading. 

You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s). 

Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.” 

The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions. 

“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.” 

He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up. 

Get under his skin.

You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.

Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on. 

His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?” 

Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth. 

Oh. 

Now you got it. 

Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed. 

“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.” 

The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname. 

Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one. 

Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years. 

But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years. 

He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes. 

“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?” 

You mulled over the question in your head. 

If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger. 

You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant. 

“Deal Leclerc.” 

“Deal Verstappen.” 

When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way.  He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win. 

For Anthoine. 

He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.

Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles. 

The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him. 

When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage. 

“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair. 

He looked down at you. 

“Are you ready for dinner?” 

Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.” 

He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.” 

The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing. 

And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race. 

You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore. 

But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon. 

The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.

Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him. 

“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix. 

You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.” 

Another whine left Charles making you giggle. 

“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.” 

The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row. 

And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you. 

The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. 

“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?” 

Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year,  you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried. 

The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.” 

You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at? 

Impossible.

Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know. 

What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max. 

(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.) 

You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved. 

A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious. 

“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet. 

You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours. 

“You did such an amaz-”

“I’m dating Charles.” 

Blink. 

Blink. 

Blink. 

You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there. 

An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess. 

You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could. 

Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then. 

When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023. 

He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty. 

Charles still thought you looked very pretty. 

“Eyes off Leclerc.” 

Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.  

“Mon Dieu.” 

“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles. 

When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it. 

Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right. 

This was Vegas all over again. 

Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?” 

“2019. After Austria.” 

“Why?” 

“I wanted to get to know her more.” 

“What was the reason Charles?” 

The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.” 

He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption. 

“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.” 

He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium. 

“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”

Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit. 

The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot. 

“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.” 

“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!” 

“Max!” 

“Oh come on I did not!” 

y/nverstappen4 has posted

y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆

nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️

liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others

queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO

mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved

lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch

y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!

charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*

charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈

y/nverstappen4 but of course

maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂

y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT

oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾

maxverstappen1 what?

charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️

maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS

oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊

y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤

charles_leclerc ☹️

y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)

lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨

mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂

chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[doctorbeth]

Rabbit -- one of your cherished stuffed companions

Rabbit belongs to one of you dear people, and she gave me permission to share his story with you.:-) He was in the hospital about a year ago.

She initially wrote:

I live in South Florida and I am a big fan of your hospital! I have a stuffed rabbit plush animal, I believe he may have once been a Bugs Bunny plush, but to me he has always been "Rabbit" and I cannot find any leads online as to his "origins". Rabbit has been with me since I was 6 months old-- he's almost 24 years old! He's been my constant companion, and I still sleep with him and love him to this day. As you might imagine, this has led to many surgeries... 

Lately, Rabbit has had very thin fabric fur, and you can see through to the stuffing (mostly on his tummy). He's also in need of some new stuffing, as his current has gotten pretty clumpy over the years. My mom and I have talked about possibly giving him a  complete fur transplant on his tummy as we have applied patches before, but we aren't experts and don't want to cause him harm! He gets holes in his fabric very easily as he has become very delicate from love over the years... We are almost afraid to touch him with anything other than a hug! 

Now there were many photos attached to this note, and just fyi, for diagnosis the more photos the better, but you all don't need quite so many close ups... here are three critical photos from his diagnosis:

You can really see in the last two photos how thin his fabric was getting.... but he has such a cute face, and it's mostly embroidered, and I thought they may want to keep that, so.... there were many (actually 7!) options for his care. Keep in mind, he's over 2 feet long, too. Here were the treatment options (a spa could be added to any):

1) Given his style of fabric, and his artistic belly patches, and the fact that he has embroidered facial features, we could line his body with new fabric.  This reinforces his body and limbs while keeping his current appearance.  He would get all new body stuffing as part of this treatment, as the stuffing would need to come out for lining and it can't go back in.  But, a small amount of original stuffing would be preserved in a heart in his chest.  With this treatment, he could still wear, but you would see lining before stuffing.  Also, for future repairs, the lining could take the pressure of stitches away from his skin.  I would also minimize the older scarring on his side. 

2) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head. 

3) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head and ears. 

4) Instead of lining, we could recover just his belly and lower sides of limbs. His original skin (and old patches) would remain underneath, reinforcing the new fabric.  I would get as close as possible to his current fabric color and texture.  Perfect fabric matches are rarely possible, but if that is the case, I will send photos of him with transplant options so you can choose what you like best. I would also minimize his scars. 

5) I can recover his entire torso and limbs (leaving his head and ears as is). I would also minimize his scars.

6) I can recover his belly and lower side of limbs around his patches (keeping his artistic appearance). I would also minimize his scars.

7) I can recover his belly around his patches and recover the rest of his body and limbs. I would also minimize his scars.

His person thought about it, discussed it with her family, and ultimately decided on option 5: recover his entire torso and limbs but leave his head and ears as is. They also added a spa for Rabbit, which would treat the lumpiness of his stuffing as well as clean him.

So Rabbit flew to the hospital and began treatment with his bubble bath:

He got restuffed before recovering, so here is his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:

I started by recovering his gray areas, leaving the white of his pawpads and tail original. At this point, I sent chubbiness approval photos and let his person decide whether she still wanted to recover the white (which was in better shape than the gray):

His person wrote: "Wow, he looks amazing!! His chubbiness looks perfect, I can't wait to hold him! I would like to recover his white patches of fur"

So Rabbit got closed up, and the white got recovered, and then he was ready to fly home!

Approved, Rabbit flew home to Florida. When he arrived back cross country, his person wrote:

Rabbit is home!! Thank you so, so much!! He looks amazing, he's soooo soft and cuddly, I can't wait to spend many many more years with my darling angel rabbit! I cannot thank you enough Doctor, you're truly an angel!! I'm so blessed to have found you and your lovely hospital!! My mom and I can't stop gushing over how soft and cuddly Rabbit is, he's like brand new! I'll continue to treasure him for the rest of my life with your help!

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 3~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hello guys, and welcome to the third installment of Snake in the Garden! This chapter is a bit longer than the first two, so I hope you enjoy the extra words. I'm excited to bring in the next chapter for you all and I bet Lucifer will be happy to see you too! The taglist is still open, so if you're interested in joining comment down below! As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 3048

Warnings: Non-Con Kissing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Marriage, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

I shook as I locked the bathroom door behind me. I had left Lucifer in his workshop while I claimed I needed to do my business. Even with him so far away I was still so nervous. After I made sure nobody was around, I started emptying the pockets of my pants. I was keeping different colored pieces of fabric on my person and taking them out felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Setting them on the counter, I went into the cabinet below the sink and pulled out my secret. In the privacy of the bathroom I was building a rope. Over the past few weeks I had been collecting different fabric from all around the palace. Napkins, towels, shirts, nothing was free from my building process. Sitting on the toilet, I grabbed my newly acquired material and tied it to the end of the rope. The rope itself was quite long and only a few more pieces would need to be added in order for it to reach the full height out of the window. Satisfied with my work, I put it back in the cabinet and went on my way back to the workshop. 

My days passed by slowly and I was counting down to when I could finally escape. Lucifer was getting touchy feely more than ever. It was so bad I couldn’t go a minute without his hands on me. I tried to tell him to stop but that just made his body get closer to mine and his grip to get a bit tighter. I absolutely hated it. His courting was getting worse too. Every day I’d wake up to a new rubber duck or bouquet of flowers being thrusted at my face, a wide smile on his face and a blush spreading from cheek to cheek. The only time I could find for myself was using the bathroom either for bathing purposes or other forms of business. 

One day I found myself in the dining room eating breakfast. Lucifer sat across from me reading his newspaper. However he seemed very fidgety as his leg kept bouncing underneath the table and his claws were tapping the paper in his hands. I was a bit nervous as I had never seen him act like this before and I wasn’t sure what was to come from it. After our plates were cleared, Lucifer came to my side and took me by the hand. He gave it a quick kiss before leading me through the glass doors to outside. We walked to a spot on the property I haven’t been to yet. We stopped by a small gazebo and inky black arms wrapped around my waist. “Ta da!”

One of his arms gestured to the dead grass in front of us. I was confused until I saw it change to a healthy green color. Amazed, I watched as bushes of flowers popped up from the ground and a tree with some apples grew before my very eyes. Rows upon rows of vegetables magically appeared as well. I gasped at how beautiful the scenery was before me. “I’d like to present to you your very own garden. I’ve been thinking of gifting this to you for a while but I couldn’t find the right moment. What do you think?”

I was speechless. All of this was for me? I understood this was part of his courting but the gesture was super nice.

“It’s…it’s beautiful, Lucifer. Thank you.”

He gasped and turned to me. His eyes lit up and a huge smile went from one red cheek to the other. “Was that a thank you I heard? Please hold the applause! Can we hear that one more time?”

I giggled. “Thank you.”

He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome, darling. How about you take a look around while I grab some paperwork.”

He kissed my forehead and then poofed away in a cloud of red smoke. I coughed a bit as the smoke cleared and waved my hand to try and move it away faster. From where I stood, I could see the hole in the fence and as much as it called to me, I stayed put. I just needed some more time and then I’d be free. While Lucifer was away I walked around my newly acquired garden and smiled. It was actually quite the spectacle, but who could expect less from the Sin of Pride? 

Suddenly in a flash, Lucifer returned with a butt load of papers in his hand. “Did you have a chance to look around, my dear?”

“I did.”

“Is it to your liking? I can always add in more shrubbery or substitute the flowers for something else.”

“No, it’s quite lovely. Thank you.”

He puffed out his chest and smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that. Now before I begin my boring paperwork, is there anything I can get you?”

“Perhaps a trowel and a bucket?”

“Of course.”

He snapped his fingers and next to me on the grass appeared those two items. “I’ll just be over at this table so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask, sweetie.”

“Will do.”

“Good girl. Have fun!”

True to his word, Lucifer sat at a small, white, metal table and began working on his stack of paperwork. I was curious to know what kind of contracts and other tasks the King of Hell had to accomplish, but I just ignored that wish. Turning to the apple tree I noticed some weeds, so I headed over. Kneeling down, I took the trowel and began to dig out the vermin and put them in the bucket. Everytime I dug out a weed it seemed like another one appeared. I growled and kept going, but the process was soon becoming tedious. Just as I was about to give up, I heard chuckling coming from the table. I looked over to see Lucifer hiding his laughter behind one of his papers. “So you’re the reason I can’t get through this task. Get back to work, mister!”

I playfully shook my trowel at him and he gave a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

I laughed and went back to shoveling. Without Lucifer’s magic making more appear, weeding the apple tree went fairly quickly. After that was done, I moved onto the other bushes and rows of vegetables. It took me several hours but I was finally done weeding. I wiped the sweat off of my brow and let out a breath. It had been a while since I was able to do something I enjoyed in this hellhole. Walking over to the table, I sat down across from His Majesty. I set the bucket with the trowel and weeds inside on the grass. “Whatcha reading?”

“Monthly business reports from the different Sins. I doubt you’d find it entertaining. I certainly don’t.”

I had to chuckle. It was kind of funny to see this side of him. Wait a minute, what am I thinking?! Are you stupid?! He kidnapped you and is trying to court you! Get a grip, woman!

I shook my head and fiddled with my fingers. “Say, how about I take you out for dinner tonight. You’ve been so lovely here at home and I think we both deserve a treat.”

Oh you have no idea how wrong you are.

“Sounds nice. Anything you want me to wear?”

A smirk grew on his lips and he ran his claws up and down my arm. Goosebumps appeared on my skin and I had to suppress a shudder. “That red dress we got you would be a nice statement piece. Really sell the whole ‘you’re mine’ ideology.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“I know you’ll do the right thing.”

Yeah right. 

I pulled my arm away so he’d stop touching it. “I was maybe going to go read in the library if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, my dear. I’m almost done here so I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

I nodded and began to walk away. I heard him hum so I turned to look at him. He seemed so happy as he signed something. I almost felt bad for leaving him shortly but then I reminded myself of all the things he had done to me. Keep your focus, Y/n. Don’t lose sight.

I grunted and made my way inside to the library on the second floor. When I got there I walked over to one of the various bookcases. There were ten in total and each one reached the high vaulted ceiling. I scanned the titles of some of the books and landed on a fantasy novel, The Last Human. Quite the odd book to have.

I peeled it from its brothers and sat down in one of the plush leather, burgundy armchairs. I opened it and began to read. A few hours passed as I read, Lucifer coming in to join me at some point. He chose the chair next to mine and I felt his fingers playing with my thigh. I tried to not pay much attention to it and concentrate on my book. The novel itself was quite interesting, a spin on The Last Unicorn if you will. 

When night had fallen, the two of us changed. I donned the red, floor length garment that he wanted me to wear while Lucifer put on a black tuxedo. A servant drove us to the inner sanctum of the city and when we stopped His Majesty helped me out of the car. I thanked him and took the arm he held out. We walked into the posh looking restaurant and the cat hostess seemed surprised to see us. “Your Highness, welcome.”

“Hello. I placed a reservation for two earlier today.”

“Let me check the list.”

Her finger scanned down a piece of paper and then tapped a specific spot. “Here we are. Follow me please.”

She led us past several tables before we reached a table in the middle of the room. The table had a white tablecloth and vase with a rose in it. A candle in a glass bubble sat next to the vase in the center. Lucifer acted like a gentleman and pulled my chair out for me. He scooted it close before taking his seat. “Somebody will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

The hostess left us and not even a minute later an imp waitress appeared. “Hello, my name is Jenny and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get started for you two?”

“A bottle of your finest champagne, please.”

“Right away, Your Highness.”

She bowed and ran off. “Champagne? What’s the special occasion?” “What? A man can’t enjoy some fancy liquor with the woman he loves?”

He reached across the table and squoze my hand. I felt some heat rise to my cheeks and I looked away. The restaurant was quite packed. All the tables had some form of couple sitting at it. Our waitress returned with two tall glasses and a green bottle that read Beelzebub’s Special Brew. She popped the cork and poured some champagne into each of our glasses. “Now could I get you two something to eat?”

“Yes, just some pasta for both of us.”

“Of course, Sire. I’ll be out with that shortly.”

I watched as she ran off again. “I hope that was okay. I know you tend to favor pasta when Belfazaar serves it at home.”

“It’s fine.”

I grabbed my glass and took a sip. It was quite good, a bit on the sweeter side. “How is it?”

“Good. I’ll admit I haven’t had champagne since the last wedding I attended.”

At the mention of Earth, I could feel my aura dampen. While my “lover” tried to make my stay as homey as possible, I still longed for the green and blue planet. Lucifer must have noticed the mood change because the hand on top of mine caressed it lightly. “Still missing Earth, huh?”

I nodded. He sighed. “I thought I was making your stay in Hell quite cozy.”

“You have made it as comfortable as you can, Lucifer. Truly. I just miss my home is all.”

“Then perhaps I need to step up.”

Suddenly he stood and pulled out a black box. “Lucifer, what are you-”

I stopped when I saw him kneel. My eyes widened and my breath hitched. No, he couldn’t possibly be…

He opened the box and amongst the plush red velvet lay a golden ring made to look like a snake. Everyone in the restaurant started to gasp and I could see demons pull out their phones to record what was happening. “Please, don’t do this.”

The attention just made Lucifer more happy. “Y/n, I know you’ve been struggling with Hell lately. Trust me, I was there too once. However, I want to be by your side and make you comfortable, happy. More than anything I want to shelter and adore you. I think it’s time we made this official. Will you, Y/n L/n, marry me?”

My body stilled and my mind went blank. Everyone’s attention was on the two of us and the stares made my body flare up. I gulped. What should I do? What should I do?! WHAT SHOULD I DO?! If I accept, will I ever be able to go home? If I don’t, what will he do? He’s capable of so many things, what will he choose to do to me?

I could feel my breath getting stuck in my chest and my eyes started to water. Was it always this hot in here?

“I, I, I-”

“Please, Y/n. Make me the happiest man in all of Hell.”

He lifted the box a bit higher and the ring seemed to sparkle in the light. I looked into his eyes and could only find adoration there, them sparkling just like the ring. Everyone’s staring, just say something. JUST SAY SOMETHING, DAMMIT!

“Y-YES!”

I slapped my hands over my mouth quickly but it was too late. Lucifer plucked the piece of jewelry out of the box and put it on my ring finger. He stood up and for the first time kissed my lips. My eyes widened and I went to push him away, but he grabbed my hands in a tight hold. Everyone around us was applauding and cheering us on and I just wanted to die inside. He pulled away and caressed my cheek lightly. “I love you, my dear.” 

He sat himself back in his chair and smiled at me from across the table. I held my hand and looked at the piece of jewelry now adorning it. It was quite intricate for an engagement ring. Each one of the snake’s scales was engraved into the gold and a little diamond made up the eye. “Quite lovely, isn’t it? I’ve had that made since we first met. It feels nice to finally gift it to you.”

I was sick of looking at it, so I slid my hand under the tablecloth. So that’s why the courting had been ramped up recently. Because he was going to ask me to marry him.

“I thought it would be special to make it in the form we met in. That way it would be more meaningful to our relationship. I hope you like it, darling.”

I just nodded. I couldn’t force myself to say anything in case I said something rash and ruined my plan. Jenny came back to our table with two bowls and set them down. “Here we are. And congratulations on the engagement! I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

“Looks delicious, thanks!”

The two of us picked up our forks and began to eat. I slowly picked at mine and ate little bites while Lucifer talked. “So when do you want to have the wedding, darling? I was thinking a couple months from now when the Pentagram moon will be out. It’ll make the day even more special! Oh, we’ll have to get planning right away! I have so many ideas in mind, how about you?”

“I guess.”

“Are you alright, my little apple?”

“I’m feeling a bit sick actually. Could we maybe go home?”

“Of course, my dear. Let me just pay the check.”

Lucifer flagged down our waitress, paid the bill and then led me out to the car. Customers kept shouting at us congratulations as we left and I remained silent the whole ride home. When we arrived inside, I immediately headed for the bedroom. If I was going to escape, it better be tonight. “I think I’ll take a bath and then head to bed, Lucifer.”

“Alright. I’ll be in my office for a bit. I hope you feel better soon, dear.”

He gave me a light peck on the forehead and then left. Now to put my plan into action.

I headed to the wardrobe and pulled out a light blue nightgown. I grabbed it and went into the bathroom. Locking the door, I pulled off the red dress and put on the nightgown. Opening the cabinet, I pulled out my rope. Grabbing the red dress, I attached it to the end and tied the rope to the foot of the bathtub. Tugging on it to make sure it was secure, I unlatched the window and threw it out. I looked back at the door to make sure nobody was there and then began climbing down. My stomach twisted as I was quite high up and my foot had slipped a couple of times, but I finally made it to the ground. Peering around the corner of the palace, I saw David and Goliath sleeping in the front yard. Good to go.

I bolted as fast as I could to the hole in the fence. I moved aside the bushes and quickly squoze through. I hissed as the fence had caused a couple of gashes on my arm and tore a bit of my nightgown from the sharp edges. Looking around for some kind of direction, I saw in the distance the sparkling marquee that read Hazbin Hotel. I grinned and ran like my life depended on it.

~~~

TAGLIST

@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs @purplechan9 @caniseethefourthsword @rl800 @froggybich @txpchhhhhhh @stayinguplate @theonlykawaiigod-blog

[ferrstappen]

max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3

also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...

ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3

summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.

Max arrived to the track by himself.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual. 

But you weren’t right there next to him. 

He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics. 

Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.

On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day. 

Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key. 

But you saw her…

Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?

Who are you cheering today?

Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year! 

Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?

Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell. 

Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with. 

But wasn’t that a Haas credential?

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails. 

“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed. 

“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”

“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you” 

He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life. 

Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…

When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory. 

He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.

He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you. 

You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room. 

“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door. 

“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets. 

“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.

"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.

"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.

Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted. 

“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”

“Deux what?”

“They have all the inside scoops  and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.

“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.

You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max. 

“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

I saw the end when we began (1)

Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions

A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!

May 7th-10th 2015

The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues. 

Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door, 

"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head. 

"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head. 

"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.

"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears. 

"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page. 

"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses. 

"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words. 

"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face. 

"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems. 

"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly. 

"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook. 

"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions. 

"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her. 

"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further. 

"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers. 

"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry. 

"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.

You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.

You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"

"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."

Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."

You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."

Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.

After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.

With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.

Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."

You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.

As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."

Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.

As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: kissing, a little tinsy bit angsty, flirtatious banter.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10

-------------

“Why’re you putting these up anyway?” You say standing at the bottom of the ladder that John is currently stood on, installing cameras he purchased for outside your home.

“Cause i’ll have to return to work this weekend and i’d like to make sure you’re safe.” you smile to yourself at his protective nature.

“I’ve lived here for ages and nothing has ever happened.” you reassure him as he descends the ladder.

“It’s for my peace of mind.” he says quietly between the two of you in the spring air.

“Okay.” you reply as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Onto the next corner.” he says gathering the ladder, walking to the other side of the house as his tool belt clings and clangs.

—------------

“Anything you can tell me about this next mission you’re going on?” you ask as the both of you lay on the couch.

“I leave on Sunday and don't know when I'll return, that's all.” He tries to make his deep gruff voice soft it’s a cute attempt. He knew this was going to be the hard part for both of you. You want him to stay and he doesn’t want to go but duty calls.

“Mmm.” you breathe into his chest, trying to inhale him, commit his scent to memory sure it’ll linger but this is straight from the source.

“I'll call you when I can.”

“I thought you weren't allowed to bring a personal phone, that’s what Gaz told me.” you rest your chin on his chest looking up at him.

“Gaz isn’t the captain.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Ah abuse of power is it.” You quip. 

“If that’s what it takes to reach you.” You look away not being able to contain your blush after that as if he couldn’t feel your heartbeat quicken.

He lifts your chin back up, leaning down almost straining his neck for a kiss. Of course this kiss turns into more, you move further up the couch straddling his waist you’re hungry for him, for his kisses, groans, deep inhales of air, all of it. He’s flipped the two of you over pinning you beneath him with almost half his weight.

“John, why’re you teasing me?” You whimper.

“Not teasing, takin ma time.” 

He kisses down your throat, over your pulse to your collarbone ridding you of your shirt tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. This has been a common occurrence recently thing is he won’t fuck you. No, he will do everything else and give you absolutely anything you want except well what you want. 

“John.” You say as he starts to take your pants off.

“Yeah doll?” He slows the movement of his fingers and simply rests them on your hips.

“Why- why won’t you- you know fuck me?” So you did notice.

“Well because I- I actually-“ he’s a stuttering mess for the first time since you’ve met. 

“Do you not want to?” You begin as you sit up.

“Of course I do, believe me, but I want to savor you in every single way I can, you're irresistible as you are if I have you the way I want it’s all I’ll think about whilst also trying to not get killed.” He admits while comfortingly rubbing your thigh.

“Oh, that’s actually quite hot.” You feel a little bad, I mean who are you to demand something that’s literally a part of him.

“When I’m back I promise I'll give you my cock like you so desperately want.” Well damn.

——————

“Do you guys share a room wherever these missions are?” You ask as he dices up tomatoes for your antipasto Salad. 

“Em there’s rarely time for sleep but sometimes depending where we are we do and other times we don’t. Most times there aren’t even rooms there’s tents or simply no sleep.” He answers before tossing them into the large bowl beside his cutting board as you hum in understanding.

You didn’t know he knew had to cook, well sort of. He can grill, but that’s something that you cannot. So recently he’s been showing you how to smoke and grill different meats, today is what he said was the best of them all and longest cooking time, brisket. 

“Do they snore?” You ask as he laughs at your random questions.

“Yeah actually soap snores like a fucking pig, it’s horrible.” Now it’s your turn to laugh as he nods towards the door for you to follow him outside so he can check on the meat.

“Do I snore?” you ask sheepishly. He smiles looking over his shoulder at you, your arms crossed across your chest to make up for your lack of a sweater. When he sees you this way, so comfortable and raw, hair in your face and pajamas at 6PM, it’s everything and more. 

“You do.” your eyes go wide.

“No, do I really?” you seem so genuinely concerned.

“Doll everynight i've got to spend beside you has been the deepest and best sleep of my life, if you snore I've got no idea.” 

“Thank goodness.” You sigh out as he approaches you.

“Ready to eat?” He asks brushing hair from your face. 

“Yes.” 

Dinner is more talking than eating on your behalf, you want to soak up every second with him that you can. He listens intently wishing his brain was a recording machine so he could play it back when he needed to feel sane. 

“God John that was so good.” You say half an hour after he’s already finished his meal which was also his third serving. 

“I’m glad, you always cook. I'm happy to be able to provide you with this one thing.” 

“You’ve provided me with much more than this one thing.” You say with a soft smile, it’s so sweet it nearly knocks him breathless.

“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit.

“I know, doll.” He reaches across the table for your hand holding it firmly but not tightly as he looks away.

“But I know you have too.” His eyes return to yours.

“How will I spend my days without thee John Price? What will I do?” You say it over dramatically.

“Nothing too risky I hope.” He replies, eyes crinkling at the corner.

“Maybe I’ll skydive.” You tease.

“Please don’t.” 

“Can’t promise.” You joke.

“You’re going to give me more gray hairs.” He said showing you the few already on his head.

“That’s exactly what I want, I love the grays.” And he loves you, but he can’t bring himself to admit it although it isn’t even something he can try to rid himself of at this point it has consumed him whole, sprouting colorful and beautiful things inside him.

“Movie time my darling up we go.” He says as he stands motioning for you to do also. 

This is something that has become ritual, dinner then movie. It’s the perfect unwinding time although sometimes most times it turns into more.

“You pick?” You say as you hand him the remote, getting comfortable at his side tucking your head beneath his big arm. 

“You’ll fall asleep half way through this.” He looks down at your already drooping eyes.

“No I won’t.” 

“You will.” He plays a show you two had begun the other week as he settles in more comfortably moving one of your legs to rest across him. 

He’s laughing unaware of just about everything as his whole body shakes, that’s until he notices you’re not and to his not so own surprise you’re passed out cold. 

——————

When you wake it’s sometime deep into the night. The tv shows its rest screen and John is sleeping. Unfortunately after a weak attempt at falling asleep you’ve decided you're no longer tired so you just lay there, hand beneath John’s shirt rising and falling with every breath he takes. The only noise to be heard is his heartbeat and the clock ticking. 

You begin to overthink the more time passes, you’ll be alone in just two days. The comfort and protection John brings you will be miles away. This warmth that fulfills your soul won’t be in your home any longer. It scares you, how much you want him around how much you love him. You wonder if this is as hard for him as it is for you or if it’s something he’s gotten used to. 

It’s overbearing, too much. You untangle yourself from him, sliding your leg over his body and onto the floor, stepping as lightly as you can onto solid ground.

You tiptoe to the kitchen and open the fridge for water. You lean against the counter before taking a sip out of the bottle breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. You’re zoned out completely so much that you don’t notice John come into the kitchen till he’s placing his hands on your hips. 

“You scared me.” You jump slightly as he offers you a sleepy smile. 

“What’re you doing awake?” 

“Can’t sleep.” You say not meeting his eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asks. 

“thought you’d need as much good sleep as possible.” You say quietly, leaning your head on his chest.

“That’s not as important as you.” He rubs a firm hand onto your back pulling you close. He holds you like this for what seems like eternity and you relish in it.

“I’m going to paint for a little, please go lay back down.” He looks exhausted as you finally bring your eyes to him. 

“Come paint in my room.” He is tired but he’d rather be sleep deprived than have you anywhere but next to him. 

“What? You’re crazy, all my stuff is in the sun room.” You say with a small laugh.

“Then I’ll move it, I can’t sleep when you’re more than 5 feet away from me.” 

“Okay.” You know he won’t give up so you’ve learned to give in.

You simply watch as he picks up the heavy canvas and its easel hauling it across the house as you grab your brushes and paints and follow. 

He sets it dangerously close to his side of the bed, he even moves the nightstand over to the corner to ensure you have enough room. 

“Perfect.” He says after pulling his desk chair out of his office and over to it.

“Yeah actually it kinda is.” You smile. 

“Well, have at it.” He says giving you a firm kiss then walking over to the bed and getting comfortable. You sit in his very big but very comfortable desk chair and begin to mix colors in the small pallet that rests on your thigh.

“Goodnight.” He says pulling the chair towards him with an outstretched arm for one more kiss which you happily give. 

“Night.” 

—————

Released an hour early as a little surprise

It’s my best lol it’ll get better just getting back into my groove:)

As always love ya!!!

————-

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving

[sc0tters]

Wildest Dreams | Luke Hughes

summary: as the biggest test comes for you and Luke you begin to realise that maybe he was only ever meant to be a dream.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!), swearing.

word count: 3.5k

authors note: this is the piece that you guys actually picked for us to write about this week! to the nonnie that actually suggested this I hope I did the request justice and I absolutely loved writing this, like hands down favourite of the year. I tried to incorporate a bit of everything because the votes for how this one should go were so divided to! Whilst this is a part two fic you don’t have to read the first instalment before however it is advised for context!

pt 1

Luke was your best kept secret.

The light shone through the half drawn curtains as it made you groan “where I am?” You grumbled as you blew by to pull your duvet over your face and instead pulled a blanket over you. You looked around finally noticing the pictures on the wall and the hockey gear scattered on the floor, you were in Luke’s room.

As you went to get out of bed the door opened “you’re awake.” Luke smiled seeing the sight of you in his sweater “how are you feeling?” He asked handing you an Advil and a bottle of water “did I kiss you last night?” You didn’t know if that was a dream or not and part of you was terrified to hear the truth.

Luke winced as he thought you had regretted it making him weary of sitting next to you “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you but I just realized that if I didn’t do it then I really never-” you cut him off as you hooked your fingers under his chin as you pecked his lips making him go quiet.

He brought his hand to your hair as he tugged as the hair on the nape of your neck “woah.” Luke mumbled as he stared at you “meant it if I said I liked you.” Again you were unsure of if you had said it to him “that makes two of us.” The hockey player nodded in agreement as he ran his hand over your thigh.

The boy did everything in his power to make sure he kept his cool “what do we do about Jack?” He asked suddenly feeling the image of his brother appear in his mind “we can tell him when it feels right.” You grabbed his hand as you sighed “and if he isn’t happy we can reevaluate then.” You cringed knowing that Jack had always been protective of you, this was never going to end well “hope to give you the world pretty girl.” He mumbled as he went to kiss your lips again, pushing the worries out of your mind.

That was over three months ago and you swore you never intended for it to stay like this for that long. But as Luke moved to New Jersey and you found yourself landing a job in LA it only felt right to keep things light hearted. Sure there was a silent agreement that you guys had met a level of exclusivity where you were no longer sleeping with other people. You tried to say that Luke didn’t have time for another girl with the addition to being an NHL player, hell he barely had time for you. Even as the texts came at the most random hours you still ever found yourself growing irritated because you truly did find yourself falling in love with Luke.

Now the biggest test for you two had come and it was at the lake house. Two whole weeks of you in nothing more than you in shorts and your bikini was bound to be torture for Luke. The fact that you couldn’t have Jack finding out about you guys either only made Luke’s desires for you increase tenfold.

To top it all off Luke had to listen Cole and Trevor talk about how you were as hot as you had ever been. That’s how the youngest Hughes boy ended up sat on your bed as you were in the shower leaving the rest of the boys on the boat “what happened to going with the boys?” You were surprised that he was home “wanted to see you.” The innocence of his words made your cheeks feel warm as you ran your towel over your wet hair.

Luke patted his shorts as he motioned to sit with him “couldn’t listen to him talk about you anymore.” His finger ran over the edge of the red satin robe that was pressed against your body “didn’t know you could get jealous.” You teased letting out a laugh as it made him press his finger harder into you.

His gaze sharpened as he scoffed “why would I need to care when you’re on my lap, not his?” Luke grumbled as he pinched at your hip “think it’s cute you care.” You rolled your eyes as you caught your lower lip in your teeth.

The boy smiled as he sighed “glad you think that.” Luke rolled his eyes as he brought his hand to your cheek. It was killing him how you established a stupid rule that meant he couldn’t touch you over the time at the lake house.

You figured that it would make things easier for you if you weren’t worrying about the inevitable hickies that Luke would leave on you “fuck you look so kissable right now.” Luke groaned as his throat went dry staring at your lips “Luke we can’t.” You warned going to get off of him as his grip on your thigh tightened.

Desire roamed his mind as the only thing that he wanted was you “the boys are out baby.” The boy complained as he pulled you onto his lap properly “they won’t know a thing.” He added pecking your lips.

But as you fought the sexual frustration that built in your body you couldn’t help but sigh “we shouldn’t.” You mumbled as you pulled away “baby please I can be quick!” His huff made you laugh “Hughesy thinks he could really get me off that fast?” You teased only going quiet as you were flipped over.

Luke hovered over you as he glared “I know you like the back of my fucking hand pretty girl.” That was the truth, over the last few months even if there was one you two actually spent together Luke knew the was to make you squirm. So much so that once he moved to the garden state he knew how to get you off by the mere sound of his voice. Whilst Jack was teasing Luke about the mystery girl that let moans roll off of his bedroom walls.

A gulp caught in your throat as his hand pulled at the ribbon on you robe letting the fabric hit your sides. Luke loved how your eyes grew full as you went silent “not so tough when you’re on the bottom now are you?” He smirked running his finger over your body “fuck Luke.” You whined as your skin grew warm in wake of his touch.

But you were never going to have it that easy “what about your rules?” There was this set of about four or five that you had in the hopes that it would make you keep your hands to yourself and the sexual frustrations to a minimal. You rolled your eyes “fuck my damn rules too.” You grumbled making him laugh.

Luke finally found himself getting what he wanted as he kissed you. No longer was it one of emotion but instead was full of lust as it sucked the oxygen out of the room “Luke.” You gasped feeling his lips move to your jaw and he continued peppering soft kisses on your body all the way until he got to your breasts “you don’t have all day.” You grumbled feeling his hands run over your stomach.

A laugh left his lips as his face hovered over yours ���like seeing how needy you get f’me.” The boy mumbled as he shifted down your bed aiming to go to your now soaking cunt that had you squirming to press your thighs together “and so wet too.” He teased propping your legs up at an angle giving him space lay down “please.” You begged writhing in your sheets full of anticipation.

Luke pressed his tongue flat against your slit as it almost made you jump “fuck Luke.” You groaned quickly finding your hands in his hair as his arms locked around your thighs.

He loved having you like this as he looked up to see your eyes already screwed shut. His tongue lapped up against your cunt as though you were his last meal “s-so good.” You gasped tugging at his curls as his teeth grazed over your clit.

Your feet pressed against his back as you swore your were going to pass out as you looked to the heavens for help “so sweet.” Luke’s words sent vibrations through your body and with that it made your nipples harden as you brought one hand up to tease your sensitive peaks “please.” You begged as his movements were relentless making you contemplate who was enjoying this more.

A feeling of being on fire captured your body as you didn’t care about keeping your moans and whimpers quiet when the boy had you clenching around nothing “let go f’me pretty girl.” Luke nodded as he smirked knowing that his time away from you was enough to make you want him ten times more.

Sexual frustration was one way to put it and was probably what you would have tried to argue but instead as Luke’s skilful tongue had you forgetting what language you spoke there was no doubt about it just being him. You wanted to still prove your point by holding out on him but the moment he had his fingers pinching at your thighs you knew you were gone “fuck dear lord!” You cursed letting your body shake against the mattress as your chest heaved making him continue his movements until your cunt finally came and it was so hard it had your toes curling.

Just as your orgasm came down and your breathing began to go straight you brought Luke up to kiss you again “we’re home!” Cole called out as he slid open the glass door. It reminded you that your door was wide open as the youngest Hughes boy seemed to fail to shut it.

You were quick to push the boy off of you “baby!” Luke whisper yelled as he looked down at his now painful boner “go have a shower and I can stall them?” You proposed with a shrug as you began to grab things out of your suitcase to wear.

The boy crossed his arms as he sent you an unimpressed look “you’re like so not funny.” He grumbled as you pulled your shirt over your head walking back over to him as you smiled “promise I’ll make it up to you later big boy.” You winked as you had convinced him to join you as you went looking for your apartment in California.

Luke let out a sigh as he pecked your lips “you’re lucky you’re cute.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he sighed heading out of your room just in time for Jack to come up the stairs “good shower?” The middle Hughes boy teased seeing your reddened cheeks “great shower.” You nodded watching him come into your room and sit on your bed as though that wasn’t where his brother just had you seeing stars.

The rest of the day was relatively quiet for you both and of course it couldn’t last too long. As the next day Trevor thought it was funny as he had caught Luke staring at you as you sunbathed that morning. So much so that every single chance he got he teased the younger Hughes boy at every chance that he got. But as the celebrations for the fourth of July finally began the teasing stopped as Luke found himself sat next to you “you’re just as pretty as the fireworks.” He confessed making you blush.

Luke smiled at your reaction “like seeing you smile pretty girl.” The hockey player placed his hand on your knee before you quickly swatted it away “you know my rules.” You pointed your finger at him accusingly as you tried to not smile.

Even his pout couldn’t make you break as Jack sent you a confused look wondering what made you both so quiet “Luke c’mere!” Trevor’s called out as a group of girls arrived “want you to meet Isabel.” He added instantly making you furrow your eyebrows.

It made Luke laugh as he placed his hand on your knee again “trust me no girl is gonna make me not want you.” He reminded you of where he stood as you brushed him off “trust me those girls wouldn’t be competition even if you weren’t mine.” It make a spark land in his belly hearing you say that he was yours.

Yet when you heard the sound of the girls voices get louder you both turned to see Luke walk over to them. Sure you trusted the boy but it was moments like this that you wished there was more between you both as everyone would have then known that he was yours.

The night was a little lonelier than you’d admit because even as Trevor ended up sat next to you, the sound of Isabelle’s voice as she flirted with Luke echoed in your ears. It left you wanting to reach up and hit the ducks player for trying to help the youngest Hughes boy out.

When you went out the morning after for groceries you should have known that it was dangerous letting Luke come with you. But after last night when Trevor spent the majority of his evening trying to get Luke a girl, you were feeling jealous and you missed his company and attention. So you brought Luke along figuring as the rest of the boys weren’t awake so what was truly the worst thing that could happen?

Luke smirked as he watched you struggle to get the bag of chips from the top shelf “need some help pretty girl?” He teased watching you push onto your tippy toes “I think I can get a bag of chips Lu-” you were cut off when he pressed himself against you reaching above to get what you wanted.

Your mouth went dry as you felt his bulge hit your lower back “Luke we are in public!” You whisper yelled turning to see his face drop to your neck “just want you to see what it is that you do to me.” The hockey player mumbled he peppered soft kisses on your open collar bone “god you are dangerous.” You groaned as you turned to face him with his shit eating grin.

If this was any other moment with any other guy you would have thought that it was cute that he was a little bit needy, but after the earlier events of the week it only made your hunger grow more for Luke. That was why you honestly let Luke win, the front of the cart had your hand wrapped around it s hard that your knuckles turned white. The music that echoed through the overhead speakers went quiet in your mind as you stood there watching in awe as the mere feeling of his lips on yours had you feeling like a moth to a flame, with your mind entirely captivated by him. As his scent invaded your nostrils you were so close to being entirely enthralled by him, but you were far enough that the sound of a basket hitting the cold floor had you pushing Luke away.

The color drained from your face as you locked eyes with him “wait.” You gasped seeing him freeze “you guys a thing now or something?” Jack blinked silently praying that this was just some bad dream that he could wake up from “sort of?” With your hesitancy on getting into it Luke proposed that you guys spoke about what you were after the summer, with or without his brother’s knowledge. Jack scoffed as he sent the taller boy a glare “out of all of the girls who fucking fell at your feet you just had to take her huh?” The forward felt sick knowing that Luke had a crush on you, but he thought he would act on it.

Tears fulled your eyes as you frowned “did you run out of girls your own age and just wanted the one thing you knew you couldn’t have?” The boys never had an agreement about it but as Quinn and Luke both had male best friends, Jack just figured that because you were his, you’d be off limits. Luke frowned as he shook his head “I really fucking like her dude so don’t talk about her like that.” Luke took a step forward as you stepped between the duo wanting to avoid a fight “you are such a pain in my ass!” As Jack went to take a step at his brother you stopped him by pressing your hand against his chest.

The boys glared at each other as you finally spoke up “I’m so sorry.” Your voice wavered as your lips quivered “and you just had to go spread your legs for him.” Jack spat not even letting himself look at you “don’t talk to her like that!” Luke was quick to go to your defense as he hated what it implied.

Jack shook his head as the sight of Luke wrapping his hand around your waist “you both make me sick.” His voice was barely a whisper as he sent you a look that truly made you feel like the worst person on the planet.

The middle Hughes boy turned to leave as he sighed leaving you two alone “Jack!” You sobbed as Luke held you in your spot “please!” Your throat was sore as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Luke also kept you from collapsing onto the ground “Luke please.” you begged trying to push past him as you continued to cry “I need to go to him.” You were finally strong enough to get away from Luke as you brought your hands up to wipe your eyes “just give him a second baby.” Luke reached out to grab your hand but you shook your head not wanting it “we aren’t like that anymore.” You announced practically breaking his heart in the process “you don’t mean that.” Luke now felt his tears kicking in.

But even as it was all so emotional, you still remained strong “I said I’d end it if he wasn’t happy.” You reminded him of how Jack was important to you “what about our happiness?” These past few months with Luke had been the best thing you had ever had. The highs were like a drug that you were constantly addicted to and now it was your oxygen.

You sighed as Luke looked at you, somehow with all that love still in his heart “Jack is my best friend.” You reminded Luke all that his brother meant to you “I love you!” Luke knew it wasn’t the right time to tell you that but he had felt that way since he watched you get out of the pool when you were fifteen. Sure your hair might have been in some messy braids but the sight of you in that red bikini was enough to make him feel things that no other girl has ever made him feel.

As a tear rolled down his cheek your thumb wiped it away “Luke you are young, you could-” as you tried to tell him that there would be plenty of other people for him Luke the boy that he could find someone else it was no use “I love you.” He repeated as he frowned “if you love me then you’ll let me go.” You pleaded as you kissed his lips one last time.

Still Luke couldn’t understand why you were doing this “why are you doing this?” Luke felt sick as his heart throbbed watching you step away from him again “because you can find any girl who will love you.” It was still no secret that Luke was gorgeous and as he was a new hotshot hockey player, the girls who wanted him only increased “but f’me there is only one Jack.” You didn’t mean that you only had one Jack Hughes, no you meant that there was only ever going to be one man in your life who could make you feel the way you did. He was the man who could make you laugh so hard you’d have milk coming from your eyes, he could have you telling him everything about you - so much so that he knew you better than you knew yourself -.

But beyond all that you had grown so close and comfortable with Jack that your life before him wasn’t something you could remember anymore. You needed Jack in your life to keep you sane and you couldn’t cope with the idea of losing him, even if it meant you could finally be happy “I’ll miss you.” You mumbled as you walked back leaving the isle as you went to chase after Jack.

The last few months might have formed a relationship that you could no longer call yours, but the memories you held could’ve been kept for a lifetime.

[rachaelthemes]

Ocular — Version 3

Preview // User Guide // More Info & Install

your favorite sidebar theme just got an upgrade, babeyyy

I went to update Ocular to make it NPF post-compliant and then my hand slipped and I redesigned the whole thing lmao. here's a brief update about Ocular 3; if you're looking for a full list of changes between versions 2 and 3, click the "Read More" below)

Ocular comes with the following features:

Colors: easily change the color scheme of your sidebar and posts using any colors you want

Post sizes: 400px, 500px, 540px, 600px, 700px

Sidebar: can be on the left, right, or above the posts. pick from a list of sidebar sizes, header image heights, and avatar shapes

Fonts: 20 different fonts, sizes 13px to 18px

Background: solid, gradient, full-size image or repeating image

Links: choose either regular navigation or drop-down navigation. unlimited custom links (visit the help desk FAQ for a tutorial) and ability to rename home, ask, submit, and archive links

Endless scroll, custom ask box text, Tumblr's full-width controls and search bar, optional header, avatar, and favicon images

if you already have Ocular installed, version 3 should be coming at you as soon as the update passes the theme garden. if you installed this theme with GitHub, you'll have to re-install manually.

now let's get to the fun stuff. what's new in version 3?

wow, do I have some updates for you!

1. goodbye color schemes, hello post background and text colors

you can now directly control the color of the posts rather than relying on color schemes to do it. want your posts to be a very specific shade of navy? all yours, buddy. go wild (make sure it's readable tho)

2. hello, color schemes! wait I thought we got rid of that guy

a lot of the color schemes I made became redundant now that the new post background/text color options exist. if you were married to the old color schemes, all of them can be recreated using those options. so the new color scheme options are as follows:

"My colors" — uses the colors you picked for post background/text

"Light preset" and "dark preset" — sets the posts to white with black text, or off-black with white text

"Translucent" — uses the colors you choose for post background/text, but makes the post backgrounds semi-transparent. there are NINE different translucent color schemes, ranging from 90% (only slightly see-through) to 10% (VERY see through)

3. navigation dropdown option

you can either use the sidebar links like they were before, or you can turn them into a cute little dropdown (helpful if you have lots of links or links with long titles!) you can enable this using the "use dropdown navigation" setting. you can also customize the label for the dropdown using the "dropdown menu label" setting. for instance, the dropdown on my blog currently says "oooh you wanna click me"

4. RIP google fonts I always hated your load times

decided to stop using Google Fonts and instead I'm providing the font files directly in the code. this will help speed up load times drastically when using custom fonts, plus I don't have to use Google. win-win! there's quite a bit of coverage overlap with the old fonts, but some of them that were too similar to each other got the ax. I also added all of the system fonts as options (hit classics like Arial, Georgia, and Comic Sans MS are now available TO YOU!)

5. more layout, sizing, and spacing options

the sidebar used to be either on the center-left, center-right, or above the posts; now it can go in the top-left or top-right! you can now control the border radius on the posts and sidebar. the header height, sidebar width, and post spacing all have additional options.

6. some options have been renamed for additional clarity

"background color 1" -> "background color"

"background color 2" -> "gradient background color"

"background" -> "background style"

"font override" -> "use body font everywhere"

"title" -> "sidebar title"

"description" -> "sidebar description"

"ask box text" -> "custom HTML above ask box"

7. removed some options

you win some, you lose some. I removed the uppercase sidebar links, theme credit, and inline media spacing options, mostly for redundancy reasons or because they produced unclear results.

8. as previously stated, now NPF-compliant

Ocular was ALMOST compliant with Tumblr's new post format, but had a few tweaks that needed to be ironed out. they're now ironed.

9: now user-friendly right out of the box

I updated the default color and content options, so new users installing this theme will have a much easier time using and customizing it immediately. no more ugly ass green background!

10. and finally, new JS

I had to rewrite some of the javascript for this theme, which turned into me rewriting ALL of the javascript. doing so meant that I could eliminate dependencies on third-party JS libraries and run the whole thing on plain JS. that should improve load times!!

bonus: custom CSS can do some nifty stuff now

want to change the size of your avatar? you can do that now! just do this to your Advanced > Add custom CSS section

super helpful if you're using the Avatar shape: Uncropped setting and you need your image to be a specific size (like a pixelated GIF)

for more info, check out the Ocular user guide. thanks for reading my updates!! hope you all have a fantastic start to your 2024 ❤️

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us: Brat Behavior’

Fully co-authored with: my love @precious-little-scoundrel

Notes: The response to the first fic has been so unexpected and overwhelmingly amazing - thank you, thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, liked, screamed and gushed over it! It has made our little hearts so very full, we can’t even express properly just how happy it’s made us! We hope you enjoy this installment - we love hearing from you so please feel free to scream at us!

Warnings: Threesome, all the sex that entails, 18+ only

Word count: 6.3k

The Three of Us - part 1

-

When the paparazzi pictures of you and Callum outside a pre-Emmy’s bash were splashed across the internet, the confusion was palpable. The photo evidence of Austin Butler’s girlfriend looking especially loved up with his best friend sparked more than a bit of outrage. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if they had snapped the two of you just a few seconds before. But the way his strong arms engulfed your entire body, your sequined dress glittering in the night as your back was pressed to his broad chest while you waited on the curb for your ride. The way he nuzzled your neck and made you giggle - the evidence was undeniable. Tumblr was once again set ablaze with rumors and speculation:

“I thought she was dating his close friend? Wtf?”

“He didn’t seem like this kinda dude but ok, another disappointment. Damn.”

“Bro code is dead it seems.”

But then, a day after those pictures captured headlines, a new set of photos made the rounds. Austin Butler himself could be seen, standing just off to the side, laughing and chatting with you and Callum. Upon further inspection he had been there all along - crouched in front of you and Cal, talking to the Uber driver, head ducked into the window. A leather jacket-clad arm, just barely inside the photo, ringed hand entwined with yours as Callum held you in his arms. A collective huh could be heard throughout the fandom.

-

The three of you had had exactly two months together, before going your separate ways for work. Two months of clandestine, late night get togethers at Austin’s house or your apartment. Two months of breakfasts in bed, hikes at Fryman Canyon and coffee dates at Aroma. Two months of hard work while each of you prepared for your next projects, the tedious research and memorizing lines made a little bit easier, more interesting, just by being in each other’s company. A thousand kisses, smiles, secret looks, soft touches and more than double that in sighs, whimpers and blushes. Until one day, when the party finally seemed to be over, for now, and all that was left were deflated balloons and half-hung streamers.

The night before you left for Europe for five months you spent with Austin, just the two of you, cuddled up in his big bed, eating takeout and watching old movies. You, Callum and Austin had already said your goodbyes to one another earlier in the day, a bittersweet encounter that left you happy, satisfied and more than a bit sore, and you wondered how, exactly, you’d fair spending ten hours sitting on a plane the next day. The boys were due to ship out in the next couple of days as well - Austin to New Mexico for a new film, followed by press for The Bikeriders after that. And Callum was off to Vancouver for his next film, Eternity. The way things were looking, you three wouldn’t be together in the same room again until September, just in time for the Emmy’s, which seemed like an awfully long time to miss someone. Two someones.

What followed over the spring and summer were five long months of mutual pining and longing and horniess that was only partially satiated by group video chats as often as schedules allowed. These catch-ups inevitably turned into what amounted to three-way phone sex with everyone getting off in their separate hotel rooms and going to bed alone, wishing it was any other way than the way it was. You bought a ridiculous amount of cute lingerie just for these hangouts, not to mention various toys and gadgets sure to turn on more than just you.

Then there was the group text chat that Callum had set up and named, appropriately, The Lads. Sometimes it was silent except for a thumbs up from Austin on yesterday’s “Miss you, chums,” from Callum. He had taken to calling you and Austin his lads, his chaps, etc. And you, in turn, deemed him Old Bean, never using the affectionate nickname without also employing a stuffy British accent, purely to see his face light up and crack with a smile. Sometimes you sent suggestive food photos from your apartment in Budapest, “food porn” as you cheekily referred to them. Your little hand wrapped around a squash you were cutting up for soup or two avocados you saucily bounced in your palm, mimicking a favorite move of the boys’ - you could almost hear them groan in ecstasy a thousand miles away. It tickled them pink when you did this and almost always led to a filthy string of threats from Callum and a soft expletive from Austin.

Sometimes this group chat got you all in trouble, or at the very least, terribly embarrassed. There was the time you were in a production meeting with other department heads on the film and Callum sent a picture of himself in tight boxer briefs, lounging in bed, veiny hand gripping his very hard dick through thin fabric. Or the time you sent a, mostly covered, nude pic and Austin’s manager happened to be holding his unlocked phone at that moment. You could picture exactly the furious blush that must have spread over his entire face.

But it wasn’t all lighthearted chatting and sexy photos. Sometimes you’d come across a paparazzi photo of Callum out to dinner with friends or a co-star. You didn’t love how white hot jealousy burned through you like a smoldering ember, blinding you to the truth. The truth that he has girls who are friends. That he’s an affectionate, touchy-feely kind of guy and sometimes he just can’t help himself. You had to tamp down your needy tendencies and remind yourself that you didn’t own him and besides, it was always you and Austin for him at the end of the day anyway. And sometimes you’d be scrolling Instagram, when out of the blue, you were stopped dead in your tracks by a picture of Austin on someone’s feed. The sense of desire and longing that kept you tethered to him would tighten and threaten to spill over in tears.

-

The thing about Callum Turner is that his constant teasing and joking, that wheedling mouth of his, gets him into all sorts of unforeseen trouble. And the trouble coming his way tonight ain’t his usual choice of dynamic but hey, he’s here now and whatever comes his way, he might as well try new things, eh?

“So what, you’re a big boy, big shot, producer fella now, huh? Off doing big shot important shite, too busy for us?” Cal says through a wide grin, though the playfulness of his words doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s some other emotion stirring in those blue depths - neediness, maybe. Or impatience. The only response from Austin is a quiet breath, huffed out through flared nostrils as he sips from his cocktail and looks around the room, choosing to ignore the teasing.

Austin is Mr. Stately Reserved at the party - not really, it just seems that way from the outside. Or the inside, as it were. He’s hugging and laughing and chatting but to Callum, who’s missed him more than he cares to admit, even to himself, it’s maddeningly poised. Callum would like to smooch him and pick him up and twirl him around but Austin is barely even looking him in the eye. He wants to grab that perfect, model face that Austin has on for the cameras, the crowd, and wreck it. Make sure he still feels something behind that cool and indifferent facade.

Austin glances at you as his hand goes round your waist, tugging you closer to his side in the crowded room. You sneak a glance at Callum through your eyelashes and are amused to find a rather put out expression on his face. Every little thing Cal thinks bolts across his features like a flashing neon sign. You bite your lip and turn the snicker escaping your lips into a cough behind your hand. Cal’s eyes flicker to you and you raise an eyebrow, imperceptibly shaking your head, staring him down and silently pleading with him to be patient, just cool it. You can tell by the way his mouth sets into a determined little smile that your telepathic message was not well received.

“You could just ask to be dommed, you know?” Austin says suddenly, voice monotone, eyes unreadable and his haughty, camera-ready face still scanning the room.

“How the hell does that correlate to being dommed, Aus? Huh? How?” There’s an outraged disbelief in Cal’s tone that almost outweighs the high pitched -although mild -panic seeping through. Never unsure, ever, at least that you’ve seen him, until Austin Butler interprets him some such way and then this big tough man is a flailing and defensive windmill of arms and definitions.

“You’re literally so happy to see me, everyone here can see your tail wagging, that’s how,” Austin says smoothly out of the side of his mouth, an almost bored tone permeating his inflammatory words.

“Ah see, now, I’m offended mate, here I am, missing my friend, showing it -and I get called a furry. You into that now?” Callum ribs goodnaturedly.

“Wouldn’t say no to you on Halloween just ‘cause you were wearing a pair of ears,” Austin admits with a suppressed grin. Already in full contestant mode, it takes Callum a brief minute to close his mouth and realize he’s just won a victory for himself here.

“Now that’s the kinda way to make a fella feel special, Austin. That and loaning me your cable to watch the game later. That would do it.”

“Oh I’ll make you feel special, Cal, just not in front of Steven Spielberg,” Austin murmurs, as the man himself starts to make his way across the room to shake their hands. Austin finally turns his eyes on Callum and holds his gaze so intensely that Cal’s stomach drops and he feels a twitch in his pants, like he shoulda braced or something before those eyes flicked over and met his: fuckin’ finally.

And he just knows, in that moment, that he’s in for it. He’s gonna get what he’s been asking for all night, and from that moment on, his stomach is in pleasurable knots and he can’t concentrate on anything anyone is saying to him. And if there’s a wink in there somewhere, when Austin is sure no one can see, well, it makes Cal just about stagger, both from assurance and the weirdly hot feeling of being a naughty little secret.

—

The coast is clear. Or that’s Cal’s best guess when Austin’s golden little head stops covertly craning around the corner of the elevator to inspect the hallway and turns instead to lock eyes with him.

Oh that smile, soft but not tender, slow but not lazy, constrained but nothing short of mischief in a bottle. A lean, ringed hand darts out and Cal is suddenly tripping over his big feet, pulled into the dim hall by a fist in the gap of his double breasted blazer, Austin’s knuckles firm against his sternum when he lurches forward too fast. A dog on a leash. And the hypnotic swirl of the carpet’s pattern blurs with the interspersed lamps on the dark walls until it’s nothing but a streak of swirls and Austin’s shoulders ahead of him. He’s got them fuckin’ joggin’ to the room. Cal’s loud laugh surprises himself but he’s too happy to shove it down.

“So ya did miss me -badly looks like- ya’poncy bastard.”

Austin does nothing more than throw an amused look over his shoulder, not a hitch in his fast stride. The look glances off Cal’s grinning face and back behind him to where you’re lagging behind, not out of shyness or hesitancy, instead you’re unabashedly admiring the view from back here, watching them tug and run and fall into each other on patterned carpet leading to the suite.

“Keep up, angel!” Austin insists before turning his face back towards his break-neck trajectory.

The tone and the attitude reminds you of that afternoon when you’d all first settled into some sort of lasting mojo, one that had begun in bed but wouldn’t last without some care outside in the carless, callous, scrutinizing world. You’d gone rock climbing, sweaty tank tops and dusty hands a-pair, the competitive spirit spilled onto you too as they grappled up the wall.

You’d been one of the boys then. And it felt just right. Especially when the boys were as loving and devoted as these to each other.

They’ve a head start on you down the hall, the heels Austin had helped you out of in the elevator did their damage to your poor toes but you try anyway, sequins rough and crushed in your sweaty palm as you hike up your dress skirt and sprint after them, the hallway suddenly burning hot in your exertions, Cal’s sweaty face cackling maniacally back at you as you try, and fail, to grab at his coat tails, seems to share the sentiment.

“We gotta get out of these layers.”

Dexterous, and a dozen other potent synonyms that Cal has indulged in coming up with late at night on his brainy apps, is how he’d describe Austin on a good day. It’s a goddamn magic trick tonight, the way the room key is suddenly in his hand from up his shirt sleeve, like pulling a white rabbit out of a hat, and it’s tapping and opening the latch.

The room is cool, dim and smells of your hairspray and Austin’s cologne. Cal salivates and would contemplate that being a new low to go with being called a furry tonight, but then his back is being slammed harshly against the small wall space by the door, Austin’s fist still tight against his chest, suit coat clenched between white knuckles. He’s really letting Butler just toss him around tonight, and dimly he knows he could do something about that but after hours of trying to blow straw wrapper balls at him to get the least response, it’s nice to be manhandled instead.

Oh, right, ok, of course— Austin’s keeping him here, the door propped open with a Louis Vuitton outfitted foot so you can come in too.

This wasn’t all about bruising Cal’s back. He finds himself mildly disappointed by that. Odd. Tonight’s been odd. But it just got nicer with you coming in all pink cheeked and panting from the race.

“Third place.” Cal has enough assholish gusto left in him to taunt over Austin’s shoulder, sticking three large and disrespectful fingers in your eye-line as you pass, shoving the score quite literally in your face.

You were headed to pull the drapes, being a nice little girlfriend and respecting how tough it might be for either of these guys to find themselves on TMZ tomorrow doing...whatever it is that Austin’s doing pinning Cal up to the wall like he’s a suspect. But with this competitive provocation regarding having lost a foot race to two very large, very competitive and highly motivated young men, you pause in your errand of mercy and chomp at the offending fingers instead, drawing a howl from Callum. To his credit he no longer looks remotely surprised when you do that anymore.

“Only loser here is you,” Austin jabs but the door has just banged closed, let go by his foot, and Callum has the decency to swallow very hard at whatever the hell that look on his face means.

“Your hair’s grown back out,” Austin adds, not conversationally, more like someone pleased their Amazon order came as advertised. His eyes rake over Callum’s features, following the swirls of soft curls falling across his forehead.

You trip backwards to the curtains, not wanting to miss a thing and hardly registering banging your heel on the very modern and very sharp ottoman corner that’s in between you and the window.

“Ya like it?” Cal’s face lights up and his cheeks go a little pink under Austin’s intense scrutiny, making the light freckles that dot his nose spring to life. He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly aware it’s getting to the length it was when they first met. “I didn’t think you’d noticed, Mr. Big Shot, with all that schmoozing you were doing.”

Austin’s eyes deepen as his pupils dilate, almost swallowing the blues of his irises completely. The fist gripping Cal’s shirt loosens, only to be quickly replaced by a firm arm barred across his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply, both a warning and an invitation. Austin smiles darkly and a look flashes across his face, needy and possessive. Callum’s adrenaline kicks in, his cock throbbing painfully in sync with his pounding heart. He is reminded of the only other time he’s seen Austin Butler look this way.

Three Years Ago

The slow build from friends into something more had happened gradually, in tiny increments. How had they gone from walking Callum’s dog and dinners at the local pub to lying beside each other in the balmy dark, ragged breaths and quiet groans filling the air as they tugged each other’s cocks, their spend eventually spilling out, hot and sticky, onto their hands. But looking back now, Callum could see it had all blurred together, like an impressionist painting, and he was unable to tell where things began and ended. It felt like everything had happened all at once, their worlds colliding and meshing into one another, and that was the way it had always been, before they had ripped apart, separate once more.

The closer they came to wrapping Masters of the Air, the more inevitable the end became. One evening, towards the end, Austin had a mind to show his mate how much this meant to him, whatever this was. They’d never gone farther than some heavy petting, an urgent kiss here and there, and getting each other off. But that night, something simmered just under the surface and Austin, with slightly shaky hands, unbuttoned Callum’s jeans and pulled them down his solid thighs as he sank to his knees. He felt Callum’s hands rest lightly in his hair, thumbs brushing his temples as Austin slowly leaned forward. He hesitated a split second before taking Callum’s bulging tip into his mouth, his tongue running circles around it. The feeling was foreign but intriguing and he noted with distant observation the things Callum responded to. It was messy and awkward and thrilling, in an illicit sort of way. Cal’s muscles flexed beneath Austin’s gentle hands as they mapped and explored every dip and crease.

Weirdly it got him so hot and bothered, doing it, listening to Cal’s constant praise, that Austin noticed, with dissociated interest, his own cock growing hard and rubbing against the inseam of his pants with delicious agony. Cal sounded like he was being exorcized the braver he got, which spurred Austin on to redouble his fumbling but enthusiastic efforts. Callum surged forward and Austin gagged, barely recovering before gagging again. That's apparently what it took to get the job done and with less than a second’s warning, Austin pulled his mouth off Cal just as he started to come, using his fist to jerk the rest out of him with rough precision.

Once he caught his breath, Cal was ready to return the damn favor, and excited about it too. He led Austin to the edge of the bed as the blonde struggled to rid himself of the offending inseam and pants, tripping slightly in his haste. Cal chuckled and steadied him with a strong arm around his waist, licking a stripe up Austin’s neck as he did. Austin’s stomach flip-flopped at the promise of that mouth as he finally shucked his pants. Once out of its confines, his perfect, pink cock sprang up toward his belly, already slick and oozing. Callum pushed Austin onto the bed with a gentle shove, dropping to his knees between those long, lean legs. Austin fell back on his elbows, blue eyes ever watchful, his face red and gleaming with sweat. Cal grasped Austin’s hip firmly with a large hand, the fingertips of the other barely touching the angry cock bobbing at him at eye level. He hadn’t even had a chance to wrap his lips around it before Austin was shooting off without warning all over Callum - into his eye, up his nose, onto his open lower lip. Cal sputtered in shock, falling back on his ass in his haste to try and get the sticky stuff off.

“What the fuck, Butler! What the fuck?! It’s in my hair! Jesus Christ!” he moaned, the shock beginning to wear off. Callum looked so cute, with his freckles glazed and being dramatic as all hell and Austin was no help whatsoever. He laid there, feeling fabulous and sated with his spent cock still spurting now and again. Completely relaxed, zero sympathy, because truly he wasn’t even remotely sorry for cum up the nose when his throat was raw from sucking Cal’s massive dick.

In the present time Cal’s tentative: “You like them?” has Austin reaching up to drag through Callum’s curls after his pleading goad.

“They’re gonna make the prettiest handle here in a second.” Austin smirks and yanks his large puppy away from the wall, hauling him to the bed, gravity working in Austin’s favor as Cal trips over his feet and lands in a face-first splat onto fine weave cotton with a muffled “oomph.”

Without warning, Austin levels a hard smack to Callum’s bottom, the loud crack of it reverberating throughout the room. You gasp and freeze where you stand near the curtains, not wanting to disturb whatever this is that’s playing out. You see Austin wind up for another spank, delivering it just as Cal recovers from the shock of the first one. He roars, unused to being treated this way. A stream of curses leaves his mouth as he struggles to roll over, to fight back in some way. But Austin’s already kneeling on the bed, looming over him with one knee planted firmly on Callum’s back, pinning him down.

“The hell was that for?! Let me up!” Callum practically shouts, the panic of not being able to move setting in, all that alcohol he tossed back with abandon at the party making him slow and uncoordinated. “Fucking let me up, bro!”

“You’ve been a pain in my ass all night…couldn’t wait til we were alone, could you? Had to have allllll my attention right then. Had to act like a brat in front of our friends and colleagues.” He delivers another brutal smack that has Callum jolting forward, fists gripping the white duvet he’s face-planted in. Callum lets out a strangled moan, half frustration, half arousal. “Practically begged me to dom you…” smack. “Does my attention feel good now, hmm?”

You can’t watch from the sidelines any longer, your panties are already soaked and your legs feel shaky with need. Without a word you walk over and tug Cal’s pants off unceremoniously, his boxer-briefs sliding down with them. His usually pale, round bottom is already red, and by the look on Austin's face, it’s about to get much worse. Compulsively you kneel over Callum and kiss it better, your lips trailing little smooches over the angry skin before smoothing your cool palm across the expanse of his backside and rubbing his back soothingly. He lets out a sigh of misplaced relief, his hands relaxing their grip on the covers only to be startled out of his temporary reverie by another slap to his now bare ass. That one definitely left a mark and you stare in awe at the large handprint left behind. From there it’s just a tenderly brutal back and forth as you soothe what Austin stings.

Callum is so dazed by his own feelings and having allowed himself to be treated this way that when Austin stands and finally rolls him over he’s about as docile as a lamb. He didn’t even know he’d come until the cool air hits him and he realizes his belly and shirt are a hot, sticky mess. As Cal is hazily coming to grips with what just happened, you turn your gaze to Austin standing at the foot of the bed. In soothing one you hadn’t been paying attention to the other.

Your boyfriend is breathing hard and his face is flushed, like he’s just run a marathon. You bite your lip as your eyes travel the length of him, eyefucking him blatantly, there’s something so magnetic and even a little daunting about him when he’s in this mood. Your gaze stops at the outline of his hard cock pressed against his pants. You didn’t realize he was so turned on by what he’s taken out on Callum’s skin but it makes your belly jump as you slowly slide off the bed, the need to ravish him overwhelming.

In an instant your hands are in his hair, pulling and tugging his own curls. Your mouth is desperate for his, nipping and sucking and kissing every inch of him you can reach. You grab at his t-shirt, ripping it off in one fell swoop and tossing it aside before you resume your aggressive making out. You can’t decide what to focus on first - his plump, pink lips or his open neck. You decide to bite his collarbone, drawing a yelp from him. Your little hand, with perfectly painted red nails, palms his hard-on through his slacks, doing your damndest to give him a handjob through all that fabric. Austin pants into your mouth and unzips your dress, pushing it off your shoulders and to the floor. You step out of it as you push him against the wall, unbuttoning the fly of his pants and reaching a hand in to grip him fully. He’s so soft and warm and hard as you swipe your thumb across his tip, swirling your tongue over his, wishing you could feel him in your mouth. He lets out a choked moan as he unfastens your bra, his long fingers finding your peaked nipples and giving them a pinch. You’ve knocked his mojo off course for the moment and he shudders under your sensuous attack. And all the while Cal watches you two from the bed, one hand around his straining length, about to spurt again.

Austin suddenly breaks the kiss, grabbing your wrists and holding your body away from his. “That’s enough now, baby. I-I need you to get on Cal’s cock.” The command is so sudden and so sure it nearly winds you, but then Austin is mummering, “Can you do that for me, angel?” blue eyes suddenly serious as he stares you down, his lips kiss-swollen and neck already starting to bruise. You nod your head silently as he turns you around and shoves you toward the bed, smacking your ass hard as you willingly obey. Cal starts to sit up and move towards the headboard, like last time, ready to have you and some relief as well.

“No, no, no. On your back, Callum Turner. You stay on your back,” Austin commands quietly, pointing a finger. “You feeling special yet, baby boy, or will it take my cock down your throat, too?”

You’re straddling Cal now and after momentarily bracing for that extra burn only he can give, you deliciously sink down onto him as he fills and probes you just that little bit deeper beyond comfort. His hands encircle your waist without thinking as you slide him in to the hilt, both of you groaning. He can unfortunately no longer think straight, let alone answer, right this moment. And daddy definitely wanted an answer.

Austin tsks quietly in feigned disappointment, “Cock it is then.”

And that’s how Callum Turner found himself flat on his back with you balancing on his balls and Austin Butler’s heavy cock in his mouth, choking him from time to time, not unpleasantly he’s surprised to find.

“You were so sad when I didn’t make it down your throat last time,” Austin coos over his shoulder as he slowly rides Cal’s face while his perfect, pert ass is manhandled by Chelsea’s finest lad, muffled sounds of god knows what coming from him. Austin has a love/hate relationship with watching you enjoy another dick that much, the least he can do is make you scream his name while you’re at it. Which is why he’s facing you as both of you ride Callum, overwhelming him like ants, the man has no chance of getting back up once he’s been felled. You lean back a little, hands on Cal’s thighs as he pounds you, teasing Austin with a little peek at your swollen clit. It has the intended effect and Austin keeps his slow and steady pace as he bends over to lick you while you ride Cal’s fat cock.

Meanwhile, gurgling noises are emanating from somewhere behind Austin’s shoulder as Callum is literally choking on cock, the bend of it molding perfectly to his throat at this angle, like someone poured playdough down it, heavy balls resting on his nose. Austin shifts again, one hand on your breast and one reaching behind to Cal's throat, massaging, squeezing. And the only thing floating through Callum’s mind as he struggles to draw breath is, “Payback’s a bitch.”

“Do you feel special now, huh? Now that you can’t breathe?” Austin grunts out, relishing the feeling, the noises, the heady rush of being in control.

Something that sounds suspiciously like “Jesus Christ, Austin” flies out of Callum’s mouth but you can’t quite tell because it’s all garbled, almost unintelligible. He’s arguing with a cock down his throat, muffled protests and encouragements. All of the sudden his belly starts to heave in panic, his airflow finally sealed off as Austin presses lower, trying to get Cal to deepthroat him.

“Shhh it’s ok…breathe baby, breathe through your mouth, Cal, not your nose. That will only make it worse.” You pet his belly soothingly as he still gags for a moment. Austin jolts forward, the feeling of Cal gagging on his cock incredible. He grabs your hips, nails digging into your flesh, taking some calming breaths himself, trying to last and not to spurt hot cum down Callum’s throat right now. Cal bucks up into you, swift and firm, but Austin’s got a death grip on your hips, holding you down and that’s just the first orgasm of the night for you.

But Callum Turner is nothing if not resilient, and a multitasker at that. He relaxes his throat, starting to get the hang of things, figuring out how to breathe around a pole stuffed down his windpipe. Good thing he has such a wide mouth, finally came in handy for something. He can both learn how to deepthroat for the first time and knead Austin’s ass and thighs like he’s making sourdough. He’s really getting into the groove now - kneading and slapping, rocking Austin in encouragement to pick up the pace. Which quickly turns Austin’s dominance into a very whiny sort of thing. He can’t quite keep up after a few minutes of Callum’s sweet torture, the balls on his nose no longer a hindrance. Callum is pulling him apart and acting like he’s enjoying himself so much that Austin’s mind goes blankety-blank. When Cal starts smacking at his little ass to encourage him to rut, he loses it.

You watch this change overtake Austin gradually, like sand eroding from a beach, little by little. You can see when he goes from being in charge of “Operation Overwhelm Cal” to being a pretty baby in dire need of cumming. He slowly tips forward, partly to get his cock further into Callum’s throat and partly to face-plant in your ample titties because he’s feeling a lot of feelings at the moment. He’s practically on all fours now, drool dripping down onto Cal’s lower belly and mixing with your wetness already there. His forehead rests between the valley of your breasts as his hips work like an auger down Cal’s throat. You’ve got one hand in his hair and the other on one of your tits as he grabs your hips, urging you to pick up the pace. He can’t take his eyes off of where Callum disappears inside you, again and again, his thick, pale lower belly, everything a blur.

Austin explodes without warning, a strangled cry wrenched from his lips. Cal’s whole body jerks up as he chokes, dislodging Austin onto the bed beside you. He has the forethought to grab a discarded t-shirt lying next to him and spit into it, gasping for breath. You’re still riding him hard, and you’re close again, so close. In the blink of an eye you’re on your back, delicate wrists held together in one of his expansive palms. You hook a leg around his waist and a floodgate opens up. At this new angle he’s hitting the spot that has you shaking apart and coming, little quakes every few seconds. He presses on despite your gasping protests, whispered words of praise and teasing and you can’t tell which is making you come harder - his taunts or his cock. You feel Austin slip a hand between your bodies, one long finger toying with your nipple, sending you over the edge again just as you were recovering. Callum roars, wrecked and rasping, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he finishes, his solid weight crushing you as he collapses onto your chest.

“Roll over, ya big oaf…my hand is…trapped,” Austin says between tugs, trying to extricate himself. Callum turns one, jewel-blue eye on Austin and grins, leaning over to bite his shoulder. Despite Austin’s growled protests and more useless tugging of his trapped hand, there’s a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before, a certain kind of floaty lightness. It looks good on him.

-

Quiet noises filter through Cal’s brain, like sunlight through a window, slowly and then all at once. The actual sun stays hidden behind blackout curtains, thanks to your thoughtful gesture the night before. Sprawled out on his belly like an overgrown spider, he registers the sound of someone getting ready for the day. Running water, an electric toothbrush, the soft thump of a towel being dropped, the rustle of clothes. He blinks his eyes open slowly, swallowing gingerly. God, his throat feels like it’s on fire! Is it always this way? He groans as he swallows again, trying to get some moisture down to soothe it. He makes a mental note to go a little easier on you next time you have his cock shoved down your windpipe. A movement catches his eye through the cracked bathroom door and he can make out Austin, dressed to the nines and fussing with his hair til he gets it just so. His heart plummets - Austin’s already back on his professional bullshit. Cal opens his mouth to make some comment about the outfit he’s wearing only to have it all squeak out in a cracked voice, the hoarse dig barely audible. That gets a smirk and a raised eyebrow from Austin, he knows where this is coming from.

“Need a cough drop for that throat, bud?” as he buttons his shirt at the wrists, looking at him in the bathroom mirror. “Don’t be salty,” he snickers, trying not to laugh at the gathering storm cloud on Cal’s face.

“That’s a shit pun, Butler,” Callum manages to croak, starting to raise himself up. To do what, he isn’t sure, he only knows he can’t take this lying down. But then you’re giggling somewhere at his back, apparently still in bed with him, going, “Salty, get it?” Your cool hand travels up his freckled skin, soothing his ruffled feathers and urging him to lie back. He flops down again, arms spread wide and rolls over to see you’re still very much entrenched in the bed, fluffy covers held to your chest and hair floating in a halo on the pillow. He’s not going to be alone…or not right away, at least. Austin walks to the foot of the bed, all suave and put together, the woody scent of his cologne hitting your noses and making you both swoon a little, if you’re honest.

“You sleepy heads enjoy your breakfast. And don’t watch without me...or there will be repercussions.” One side of his mouth quirks up, long finger pointed at the two of you as he slips on his sunglasses, looking for all the world like some hottie mob boss. Heat curls in your belly and you have to stop yourself from reaching up and pulling him down to the bed by his open shirt collar.

“And just what are we, your harem?” you say with a pout, stretching your arms above your head, pert nipples peeking out above the covers. His eyes are hidden behind dark lenses but you note with satisfaction the way he swallows hard, leg jiggling slightly, before turning abruptly away and heading for the door.

“Don’t wanna be it, don’t act like it,” he tosses over his shoulder just before the door slams shut.

In the ringing quietness after his exit, you can hear Cal’s raspy breathing and a mildly oppressive feeling of sore melancholy. You roll on your side to fully face him, the crinkle of the sheets loud in the stillness and he turns to you, boyish and expectant. A smirk lights up your face, “How about a bath, Turner? Baby’s first time and all,” you tease, fingers trailing up his collarbone as he pulls you into the crook of his arm.

“Oh fuck off,” he grins, blue eyes shutting, snuggling you closer. He cracks one eye open again, fixing you with a sheepish look. “Could use some pancakes though.”

-

Tags - let us know if you’d like to be added or removed: @oskea93, @softboo, @winniemaywebber, @spiderstyles04, @abswifey, @thegettingbyp2, @blikebarbie92, @missmaywemeetagain, @icedb1ackcoffee, @wildfll0wer, @dilfelvis, @slowsweetlove, @thefallofthedamned, @cherieaustin, @liv-n, @steph-speaks @jelliedonut @elvisabutler, @crazymadpassionatelove @stylespresleyhearted @easy-peezy-squeeze-a-lemon

[burlowbeanie]

Locked Tomb Timeline, as far as I can tell

This is a long one, and a bit of a mess. I'll be making other posts about the fun date coincidences and my speculations about their implications, but I figured I should give some of the actual evidence in one solid chonky post so I can link to it and don't need to repeat myself later on.

(BD = before death of the earth; AR = after resurrection; BM = before millennium, AM = after millennium)

Unspecified Pre-Death of the earth: Foundation of Canaan house/the facility that Jod et al used for the cryogenic experiments. Establishment of Kuiper installation, Uranus platform, Mars installation w/ room for 5 million, the Lucifer Telescope, and fusion batteries (Ntn 14, Ntn 74, Ntn 189)

----------------------------------

Now! Some pre-resurrection numbers!

Before 2 BD: C-- sides with the crew (Ntn 13)

1 BD: Governments shift away from the cyrogenics plan (Ntn 13)

0 BD: Jod destroys the world

------------------------------------

Now, the most unclear section of the timeline: the resurrection and its immediate aftermath.

Augustine, from Htn 176: “Alfred and I were there early enough to found the Koniortos Court on the Fifth, but Lyctors like Cyth wouldn’t be born for years and years, and she spent her whole life suffering Seventh House woo-woo theories regarding the value of hereditary cancer … whereas Mercy is the oldest lag except for me, and she was out hammering at the Eighth House before the paint was even dry on the Resurrection.”

The resurrection occurs a few weeks after the death of the earth (Ntn 396). Then things get a bit hazy. We know the approximate order of the resurrections of the original ten disciples, but not how far apart they were staggered - was it minutes? Months? Years?

Similarly, Cyrus/Val and Anastasia/Samael are implied to have showed up before Cytherea/Loveday, when Cytherea was almost 30 years old. Both cavaliers have last names associated with their house, which suggests that either the third and ninth were established enough to at least have a small population by the time that they went to Canaan House, or that they took those names/were given those names later on.

Cytherea-as-Dulcinea says that she "dreamed of being a 9th nun" at age 13, and it's unclear if she's speaking as herself or as Dulcinea or how much she was lying as either persona (Gtn 104). Thus, we don't know if the ninth house was established by the time she went to Canaan House, though it seems like the sort of hint that both Cytherea and Muir would have had a fun time dropping.

Thus, while it is possible/seems probably many/most of the houses were established by the time that any of the newer disciples showed up, especially Cytherea, that is unconfirmed. However, it took until at least 30 years after the resurrection, probably more, for all 16 of the disciples to gather.

A rough order of events during this time, some of which may overlap:

Original disciples resurrected

New disciples arrive

Lyctors ascend; Anastasia fails

Alecto is put in the tomb and Cassiopeia dies

The lyctors and Jod flee to the Mithraeum, leaving the system

Particular questions that remain and would help clarify things:

Were Anastasia, Samael, Cyrus, Valancy, and Loveday born or resurrected? It seems like Cytherea was likely born.

When did Anastasia have a child and found the tombkeeper line?

When did Pyrrha (or G1deon!Pyrrha) paint a nursury? Was it the same time she visited Anastasia "before she got settled" (Ntn 85)? Was Anastasia's child the birth she assisted at (Ntn 121)?

When was the ninth founded? When was the prison installation founded? Was there anything on the ninth before Anastasia was told to prepare for Alecto's imprisonment? Samael seems to have been born or resurrected after the ninth was founded, unless he was given his name later?

-------------------

After resurrection: Actual Numbers. Once we get like 100-200 years out from the resurrection, things start to get clearer. Not clear, but clearer.

100 AR: God names himself Gaius (Htn 521). Is this when Cytherea ascends, since she is given credit for the "naming oneself after one's cavalier" thing? Or was that some God bullshit?

200 AR: Alecto put in tomb (Htn 478)

4000 AR: source gram comes from sixth house to BOE (Htn 529)

5000 AR: BOE comes to the attention of jod and the lyctors; they may have existed beforehand but been unable to find the houses/be found (Htn 154). Augustine begins questioning the purpose of the empire (Htn 483).

Moving into the thousand years before the events of the series:

9000 AR/ 1000 BM: Matthias Nonius lives (Gtn 53)

750-700 BM: New Rho contract drawn up (Ntn 206)

519ish BM: beginning planning of dios apate major (Htn 474)

300 BM: Cyth gets angry (Gtn 402). Last contact between second and first houses (Gtn 456).

100 BM: Jod leaves the Mithraeum (Htn 81).

80 BM: Jod joins the Erebos (Htn 81)

40-39 BM: G1deon starts to really annoy Augustine, who speaking in 1 AM states: “He has caused me more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit" (Htn 268). I think Wake makes the most sense as an explanation for this, though it's off by about five years.

34 BM: Wake reinvigorates BOE (Htn 154). Ortus born? That’s a fun coincidence that means nothing.

30 BM: Mercy thinks Jod should have returned to the Mithraeum then (Htn 81).

25-24 BM: BOE finds out about resurrection beasts (Htn 275) because Wake talks to G1deon (Ntn 155)

21 BM: G1 begins his (final) pursuit of wake (Htn 469)

Sometime after 300 BM, most likely 20 BM, Cytherea teaches BOE about steles and obelisks (Ntn 155)

20 BM approximately, presumably, could be earlier: Augustine and Mercy talk to BOE. BOE gets accurate fleet schematics for the first time in a hundred years and eventually the location of the mithraeum, though those were probably earlier with Cytherea and two decades later with Cytherea!Wake respectively (Ntn 155)

19 BM: Isaac’s dad killed by terrorists on [redacted], presumably BOE (Gtn 459). Mercy and Augustine are “talking” (Htn 87); Dios apate major. Mercy sees Cytherea for the last time and Cytherea laughs so much she insults Mercy (Htn 120), which is an understandable response given that Mercy may have described the dios apate major plan and/or requested her involvement. Mercy sees Sarpedon as a young soldier (about 20 years PM; close enough and matches up with dios apate) (Htn 81).

19–18 BM: Wake dies (Htn 88). Gideon born. Creche massacre.

17 BM: Harrow born.

14 BM Gideon’s first escape attempt (Gtn 24)

13 BM: Gideon is not a necromancer confirmed (Gtn 24)

10 BM: Augustine sees Cytherea for the last time (Htn 120). Wake’s bones get put on rotation (Htn 476).

9-8 BM: Harrow is suicidal. Harrow opens the tomb. Harrow hears/sees the body. Onset of psychosis. Unclear in what order (Htn 49, 247).

7 BM: (Harrow is still suicidal but sees the body?). Harrow and Gideon fight (Htn 477). Gideon sees Harrow opening the tomb. Her parents kill themselves. Gideon gets nightmares about being in the tomb (Gtn 202).

5 BM: Harrow starts puppeting (?girl wtf?? What was going on in the intervening two years???) (Gtn 348). Last ninth house chaplains and adepts are lost in action (Htn 81).

2 BM: Gideon enters Drearburgh for the last time

1 BM: Number 7 estimated five years from the Mithraeum (Htn 125).

0 BM, with rough approximates:

Month 1-3: prepping for Canaan house

Month 4: Canaan house

Month 5: harrow throws up; Camilla nonverbal

Canaan house recovery missions from the emperor and BOE — what the fuck. Who got there first. How and why did they miss the other people. Seems like BOE got there, intentionally left H and I but took G’s body??????????

Month 6: Harrow and Ianthe arrive on the Mithraeum

Month 8: Harrow kills her 13th planet with Mercy. It’s desert and triple-sunned. Wake makes posthumous contact with BOE (Ntn 155).

Month 9-10: When Judith says she begins writing her report; she’s with BOE on a wooded double(potentially triple?)-sunned planet. At one point several weeks (or months?) later Mercy shows up. According to Judith, that is. Judith honey I might need to recuse your testimony for somehow being more of an unreliable narrator than the lobotomized traumatized psychotic unmedicated half-dead triple-haunted 201-souled Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Then I could bump this back to month 8 which would make more sense.

Month 10: Harrow catches G1d!Pyrrah with Cytherea!Wake

Between Month 10 and Month 12: Harrow turns 18. Harrow discovers G1d can drain thanergy. Harrow makes soup. Harrow makes Ianthe’s arm. Dios apate minor.

Month 12: Harrow finds Cam and Pal on a wooded planet and sees Judith. Judith tries to warn Harrow about Mercy’s involvement.

Mercy ditches her for unspecified business. I suspect this is when she meets with We Suffer? Was this when she heals Judith?

1 AM

Month 2: death of the emperor. Quick undeath of the emperor. Nona born(?)

Month 5: Station Red-As-Blood abandoned (Ntn 152). The demons show up on Antioch (Ntn 448).

Month (6?): Nona gets a job (Ntn 41).

Month 7: nona gets shot, cam/pal fusion reveal (Ntn 105 through the end of the chapter)

Month 8: events of Ntn

[fantasyescapes17]

Scandal (Part 1)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Genre: Wonwoo x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Joshua's sibling so your last name is Hong but the reader has no other physical characteristics. Note: Certain main characters may initially seem unlikeable in this story. Redemption arcs will come.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [Reading Candle and Manners, the earlier installments in this series first is strongly recommended as main character dynamics are introduced there.]

The sheer cacophony being produced from Miss Brooke’s fingers prodding at your pianoforte was unbearable. 

You suffered silently through the onset of a headache as Miss Brooke continued to perform (the piece was not even recognizable to your ears although she was using your sheet music). The remaining occupants of the parlour conversed awkwardly over her uninspiring performance. 

Your mother- the Dowager Viscountess Hong-  derived great enjoyment from hosting other elite families for tea. Her tea parties were renowned not only for the wide array of cakes, biscuits and other delicacies served, but also her remarkable skills as a hostess. 

Presently, the evening's guests consisted of two of the ton's most elite families: the Brookes and the Jeons. Both families had eligible young women of marriageable age which factored into your mother's decision to host them. She was hoping your brother would marry by the end of the season. 

Your brother- the Viscount Joshua Hong- was seated near Miss Jeon. They chatted politely about something. The specifics of their conversation were prevented from reaching your ears by the ruckus Miss Brooke was creating on the piano. Miss Jeon was the season's promising young debutante, but it was evident that she had no particular attraction to Joshua. And Joshua's heart was already engaged elsewhere. 

That left only one other marriageable bachelor in the room. 

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. 

He was a strange one, you decided. Mr Jeon was exceedingly handsome and always had a calm, peaceful demeanour. He spoke very little. Even now, he sat across from you and sipped his tea quietly without making any attempt at conversation. Your initial subtle attempts at flirtation had fallen quite flat.  

You had to admit that you found him rather mysterious. 

Still, you had never met a man that was completely immune to your charms. Mr. Jeon was simply a bit of a challenge. You enjoyed a challenge. 

Miss Brooke's piece at the piano finally drew to an excruciatingly slow end. Seizing the opportunity, you rose from your seat and clapped politely with a smile on your face as you approached her. 

"Thank you so much, Miss Brooke. We are so grateful to have been able to experience your playing this evening. Truly a remarkable performance," you told her graciously. 

Miss Brooke blushed. "Thank you, Miss Hong. I was considering what to play next-"

"Oh! No, I won't hear of it! You must be very tired already. I insist that you sit down and try these lemon cakes. I would be happy to continue the music in your stead," you offered. 

Miss Brooke looked put out but you firmly and politely ushered her away from the piano. You sat at your beloved instrument and let your fingers lovingly stroke the keys that Miss Brooke had abused mere moments ago. 

You never tired of showing off your performances. Your musical talents were undisputed among the members of the ton, and you were confident that there was no young woman in London who could ever rival your skill at the piano.

Surely, you thought, a display of my exquisite musical talent will be enough to gain a little attention from Mr. Jeon Wonwoo? 

You chose to perform an incredibly difficult piece that you had recently mastered. The entire room immediately ceased conversation to turn their attention to your performance. You could tell from the corner of your eye that even Mr. Jeon Wonwoo's sharp gaze was fixed on you. He was watching you intensely.

When you finished, you were treated to an enthusiastic round of applause from the entire room. Your mother spoke up to praise you. 

"Wonderful, dear. That was beautifully done," the Dowager Viscountess told you proudly. 

"That was quite delightful!" Miss Jeon was equally quick to praise your performance once you returned to your seat. "I have heard so much about your musical talents, Miss Hong, but to hear you perform in person is quite something else entirely. How much time and effort you must have put in to reach that level of skill! Was it not lovely, Wonwoo?"

You smiled to yourself, awaiting the praise that was surely to come from Mr. Jeon. You were accustomed to general admiration of your music. The young gentlemen of the ton were among your most ardent admirers.

You batted your eyelashes at him and spoke in a sweet tone. "Yes, Mr. Jeon. I am very eager to hear what you thought of my performance."

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo sipped his tea calmly. His dark eyes flickered to you and he gave you a polite, tight-lipped smile. 

"You possess great potential, Miss Hong," he replied simply.  

You could not have been more shocked if Mr. Jeon Wonwoo had chosen to throw his unfinished tea in your face. 

Potential? What on earth did he mean by that? You had been learning to play the piano since you were a small child of seven. That was a decade and a half of uninterrupted learning, of your parents hiring the best tutors and dedicating all your free time to the practice and perfection of the art. Your late father had bought you the priceless pianoforte for your twelfth birthday, and it was your most prized possession. You were undisputably the most skilled young lady in all of London and this rude, conceited, tasteless man had the audacity to tell you that you had potential?

As though you were a child? 

You had never been so affronted. 

"I have dedicated myself to learning how to play the pianoforte for over fifteen years now, Mr. Jeon," you informed him coldly. "I am certain that I have already realised my full potential. Perhaps you may wish to reserve your critical judgement in the future."

Mr. Jeon's handsome face did not flinch.  

"You asked me for my thoughts, Miss Hong," he replied in his calm, deep voice. His eyebrow was raised. "Am I to understand, then, that my criticism holds no value while my praise does? One might call that vanity."

Your cheeks turned hot in anger. How dare this tasteless man not only insult you publicly, but also accuse you of being vain and fishing for compliments?

How dare he? 

"One hardly needs to be a music aficionado to pay basic respect to the quality of a performance, Mr. Jeon. I believe even my dog knows good music when he hears it-"

Viscount Hong interrupted the rapidly escalating conversation with a laugh and made a tangential comment about a hunting expedition that he planned to undertake with some other gentlemen. You leaned back in your seat and fumed silently for the rest of the evening until the Jeons and Brookes finally took their leave. 

"Joshua," you told your elder brother once the guests had departed. "I hope you have not developed any affection towards Miss Jeon because I forbid that family from being invited to our home again. I have never been so insulted in my life!"

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Your performance was lovely, sister. You should not let the opinion of others affect you."

You turned to your mother. 

"Mother! Was Mr. Jeon not excessively rude to me earlier?" you demanded validation. "Have you ever known someone to openly insult my performance- as a guest in our home, no less?"

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile. "It does not appear that Mr. Jeon has a discerning ear for music, my darling. But do not fret. If you do not wish to see him again then we need not host the Jeons any more this season. There are plenty of other young gentlemen among the ton who would suit you much better."

You smiled and embraced your mother. 

"You are so good to me, mother. Shall I play you another piece before dinner?"

"I would love that, my dear."

—-------------------------------------------------------

True to her word, your mother did not attempt to host the Jeons again. Any formal invitations to tea were restricted to the female members of the Jeon family- among whom Miss Jeon, you discovered, was a polite and friendly young woman.

You were fortunate to see very little of Mr. Jeon Wonwoo over the next few weeks. While his sister made a splash upon her entrance in society with her pretty manners and success at balls, Mr. Jeon himself was not easy to spot at social events. He would indulge in one or two dances at most and not be seen for the rest of the evening.  

It was for the best, since the passage of time had not diminished your anger towards him in the slightest. 

"Your post has arrived, Miss Hong," the maid told you as she came in with a tray of letters while you were at breakfast with your mother and brother. 

The Dowager Viscountess raised an eyebrow. 

"That is a lot of correspondence, my dear," your mother commented as you carelessly opened the letters one-by-one and glanced at them briefly before tossing them aside. "Who are you writing to?"

"I am not writing to anyone. These are from some gentlemen I danced with at the Hessington's ball last week. Mr. Carter writes to me regularly and of late I've received correspondence from Baron Wright, the Park brothers, and a few others…."

"So many admirers!"

You rolled your eyes. It was not surprising. These men were only interested in your status and fortune, though one would not think so from the romantic prose and lavish gifts they sent you on a regular basis. One of the envelopes contained a gift of expensive silk ribbon. Another contained an exquisitely carved handheld mirror. 

You gestured to your maid to take the gifts away before continuing to open the envelopes. 

"Oh, look- Mr. Carter has written a lovely little poem. You should use that, Joshua. It might help you woo Miss Lee."

Joshua did not look at the letter you passed him. 

"I am capable of drafting my own correspondence with Miss Lee, sister, thank you," he told you firmly. 

You were not convinced. "If you had written her a few poems like this before you raced off to her home to ask for her hand in marriage…"

Joshua sighed."Yes, yes, all right. That is enough."

"Oh dear," you mumbled as you opened the last letter. "Baron Wright says he intends to call upon me today. He is quite unbearable. I must not be at home- Minnie! It is lovely weather for a walk in the park. Will you help me find that pretty blue summer dress? And we shall take Snowball with us."

Your maid nodded. "Of course, miss."

You enjoyed the fresh air. Since you spent hours every day in front of the piano, it was rare to have a chance to promenade in the park with your furry companion. Snowball- your adorable fluffy white Pomeranian- trotted alongside you cheerfully on her leash and your ladies’ maids followed you at a polite distance. 

"Miss, you must walk in the shade," your maid insisted. "It is very bright outside and the direct sun may burn your skin…"

You conceded, teetering a little off the path so that you and your maids could walk in the shade of the trees lining the park. You paused suddenly when you noticed a gentleman and lady strolling in your direction. 

You recognised them both.

The man was Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. The mere sight of his handsome, unsmiling face was enough to make your blood boil. Wonwoo had no business looking so deceptively charming in a dark brown riding coat that emphasised his broad shoulders- the uncultured swine. 

You would have walked past him without acknowledging his presence if it had been up to you. But unfortunately, you were not afforded this option. The lady accompanying him was your cousin-Miss Ella Williams- and she smiled and waved as soon as she recognised you. 

"Cousin!" Ella called out cheerfully as she hurried down the path to greet you. Mr. Jeon followed her. His long legs allowed him to cover the distance in casual, effortless strides. 

"Ella," you greeted your cousin warily. You were forced to acknowledge her walking companion. "And Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, if I remember correctly? I see you are out for a stroll."

Ella smiled. "Indeed. I was on a walk with Miss Jeon but we were joined by Mr. Jeon and Mr. Yoon. The path is narrow so I am afraid that the others have fallen a little behind. Mr. Jeon- please allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Hong."

Wonwoo’s expression was emotionless as always. 

“We are already acquainted,” he replied shortly. 

"I see you and Snowball have come to promenade as well. Is the weather not perfectly lovely? It is a wonderful sunny day," Ella gushed.

"It was when I arrived. But there seems to be a rather ugly dark cloud crossing my path at the moment," you quipped with a sharp glance at Mr. Jeon. 

The sky was clear and blue.  

Mr. Jeon fixed his dark eyes upon you. He seemed annoyed. "Perhaps a dark cloud now and then is inevitable in life, Miss Hong. The sky cannot cater to your personal desires," he remarked. 

You scoffed. "So long as the cloud learns its place and does not rain down upon those of us attempting to enjoy our day; I shall have no objections to the existence of the cloud."

Ella looked bewildered. "What cloud-"

She was interrupted by a sharp tug on your leash. Snowball had grown impatient while standing in one place and darted forwards to sniff at Mr. Jeon's shoes. 

Mr. Jeon looked surprised. It was the closest thing to an emotion you had seen on his serious face- but he did not move away from the dog.

"Snowball, no!" you cried. Snowball was beginning to wag his tail and you could not imagine the mortification you would feel if your dog expressed any affection towards the man you were clearly attempting to snub. 

You reached down and picked Snowball up quickly before he could embarrass you. He let out a small whine but relaxed in your arms. 

Ella laughed. “Oh, that is all right, cousin! I am sure Mr. Jeon does not mind dogs- do you, Mr. Jeon?” 

“I consider them to be excellent companions,” Mr. Jeon replied simply. 

"And I think he is adorable," Ella insisted as she reached forward to pat Snowball's head. "I wish my mother would allow me to have a dog, but she insists that the fur makes her ill. Will you allow me to walk him sometime?"

"Anytime you like, dear cousin."

Ella's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something. "Oh, but cousin, you must tell me- I have heard that the Viscount is courting Miss Lee! I was quite surprised. Can it be true? Will they be married?"

You stiffened. You were aware of Joshua's affections for Miss Lee; their courtship was the hottest gossip among the ton at the moment, largely because Miss Lee was from a humble background and did not possess either status or dowry to match your family's. 

You had spoken to Miss Lee at the Hessington's ball. She was kind-hearted and a perfect choice for Joshua, but did not seem confident in her ability to become a Viscountess. You were not certain that she would accept your brother's proposal. 

"It remains to be seen," you replied lightly. You did not want to confirm rumours until the success or failure of their courtship was more evident to you.

"You do not think she is a good match for Joshua?" Ella wondered. 

"We shall have to see," you said vaguely. "Decisions such as these should not be made in haste. Not everyone is suited to become a Viscountess."

Mr. Jeon's dark eyes were still on you. His jaw was clenched; he looked displeased. 

"Do you disagree, Mr. Jeon?" you demanded. 

"I do not think it is your place to assess who is suited to become the Viscountess," he replied stiffly. "I am sure your brother is more than capable of making such decisions on his own."

You laughed. Your brother had made plenty of poor choices in Miss Lee's case- including springing a proposal on the poor girl without giving her any hint of his affections for her and failing to realise how she would be affected by the gossip.

"You overestimate my brother, Mr. Jeon. He is perfectly capable of making mistakes, like any other gentleman," you replied. 

"A gentleman will deal with the consequences of his own actions- whether they be mistakes or otherwise," Mr. Jeon retorted. 

You stared at him, bewildered. What was he going on about? You had no idea why Jeon Wonwoo was so invested in Joshua's courtship with Miss Lee, but you refused to let this odious man have the last word.

"It seems you have a high opinion of my brother," you snapped. "But I am sorry to inform you that the decisions made by a Viscount do not impact him alone. Forgive me if I do not want my brother to make mistakes that would cause pain to those around him."

Ella looked distressed at the turn the conversation was taking. 

"Cousin, I am sure there is no question of the Viscount making any mistakes. Let us speak of something else," she pressed. 

"Yes, of course. Men must never be questioned by women when they make mistakes," you replied drily while glaring at Mr. Jeon. "How foolish of me to think otherwise."

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow. "Miss Hong, it was never my intention to suggest that-"

"Frankly, Mr. Jeon, I have no interest in what you intended to suggest. I did not ask for your opinion; I shall certainly not make that mistake twice. You may rest knowing that your silence pleases me well enough. Please do not trouble yourself with speech."

Ella was shocked. "Cousin!"

"Snowball is quite tired and we must be returning home now. I will take your leave.  Good day, Ella. Mr. Jeon."

You walked away, your cheeks hot with anger. Who did Mr. Jeon Wonwoo think he was? It is not your place to assess who is suited to be a Viscountess? As though a sister being concerned for her brother's marriage was overstepping her bounds? How dare he speak to you that way? 

One thing was certain. You were not as kind and forgiving as your brother. 

Jeon Wonwoo would regret making an enemy of you.

—-------------------------------------------

"Miss Hong, you have the most exquisite taste in fashion! These gowns are so striking!" Miss Brooke cried. 

You were having tea with some of the other young ladies of the ton when your latest shipment from the modiste arrived- a large collection of custom-made ball gowns, hats, and shoes that you had ordered recently. 

"This one is my own personal design," you boasted as Miss Brooke admired a particularly gorgeous lavender gown with a delicately embroidered skirt. "I ordered it specially for my brother's wedding and I am having a pair of shoes custom-made to match."

“It is a masterpiece!” 

You sipped your tea and leaned back as Miss Brooke, Miss Hessington and Miss Jeon continued to compliment and admire your new gowns. You had spent a considerable amount of time preparing the designs and discussing them with the modiste. The admiration of the other young ladies was sufficient recompense for your efforts. 

Let it never be said that Miss Hong was not the best-dressed young lady in the room.

Just as Miss Brooke pulled out an exquisite handmade silk shawl from the boxes stacked on the tea table, your brother appeared at the doorway of the tea parlour. 

"Ladies," Viscount Hong greeted the other young women in the room with a handsome smile before turning to you. "I apologise for interrupting your tea. Sister- if I could have a word in the hall?"

You followed him into the hallway outside. 

"Joshua? Is there a problem?"

Joshua had a small stack of papers in his hand. He showed them to you calmly. "These are the bills I have received from the modiste, the shoemaker and the jeweller," he informed you. 

You blinked at him. "All right. What is the problem? Send the clerk to pay them."

"Do you not think some of these are a little extravagant, sister? This single ball-gown of yours costs as much as the Arabian horse I had shipped from overseas," Joshua pointed out. 

"It is custom-made. The silk is imported from India so it has travelled the same distance. If we can afford the horse, then I fail to see the problem with the dress," you replied defensively.

Joshua shook his head and sighed. "Do not mistake me, sister. I am not angry. I only want to be sure that you are conscious of your spending habits."

"Are my gowns putting a dent in the Hong family fortune?" you asked with a laugh. 

"You know they are not."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I would like you to acknowledge that regardless of our ability to pay for them, perhaps it is not necessary to spend so much money on a dress that you shall only wear on a single occasion. I ask you to exercise a little restraint.”

“Yes, yes, all right," you told him dismissively. "The season is nearing an end so this was my final order. We shall be returning to the countryside after your wedding, in any case."

"Glad to hear it."

"Have you ordered your wedding things? You know the modiste takes over a week for wedding orders- particularly the wedding gowns."

Joshua blinked. "Wedding gown?"

You gasped. "Joshua! Your wedding is in less than a fortnight, are you telling me that an order has not been placed for Miss Lee's wedding gown? What on earth is the matter with you?"

Joshua looked flustered. "I-I assumed Miss Lee would arrange her own wedding gown-"

"Miss Lee's family cannot afford a wedding gown fit for a Viscountess! And she is so humble she would never ask you for such a thing- it was your responsibility to offer! You must place a deposit with the modiste immediately and I will take Miss Lee there myself to select the design this evening. You are fortunate that I am the modiste's valued customer."

Joshua nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes-yes, I will do that…"

"And none of that restraint, please. Sell one of the Arabians if you must," you added with a giggle. 

Your brother hurried away and you re-entered the parlour where the young ladies were still discussing your silk shawls.

You re-seated yourself in an armchair. 

"Is everything all right, Miss Hong?" Miss Jeon asked politely. 

"Yes- my brother needed some help with the arrangements for his wedding. Gentlemen are very lucky to have sisters to rely on in certain matters," you said lightly before glancing at Miss Jeon. "Would you not agree, Miss Jeon?"

Miss Jeon shook her head. "I am sure I rely on my brother far more than he relies on me."

"But of course. Mr Jeon Wonwoo is a different case altogether. I gather he does not need your help in matters of the heart, since he openly refuses to court anyone," you quipped.

Miss Jeon did not seem worried. "I am sure he will find a young lady he is interested in someday."

"I hope that the young lady is not too fond of polite conversation, then, since Mr. Jeon will surely not indulge in any," you replied. "Was it not just last week, Miss Brooke, that you told me Mr. Jeon danced with you and did not speak a single word for the entire duration of the dance?"

Miss Brooke smiled awkwardly. "Yes…"

"And Miss Hessington, did you not tell me that you attempted to converse with him at the assembly rooms and he did not even look up from the book he was reading to greet you?"

Miss Hessington nodded. 

"Wonwoo does not speak much," Miss Jeon admitted with an awkward laugh. 

"Perhaps that is for the best," you replied airily. "I am quite offended by what little he has spoken to me thus far. If he spoke more often, I imagine he would soon gain many enemies among the ton."

"I apologise for his actions, Miss Hong-"

You brushed her off kindly. "Not at all, Miss Jeon; you are a dear friend. I would not dream of holding you responsible for your brother's behaviour. He shall carry that burden entirely on his own."

"Are there any gentlemen among the ton that have caught your eye, Miss Hong?" Miss Brooke wondered. "I notice that Baron Wright seems to be quite set on you. You often dance with Mr. Carter as well."

"We shall see," you replied lightly. "Since the season is coming to an end and I will be returning to the countryside soon, it is a perfect time to test a man's so-called affections. Only those who maintain their correspondence with me over the winter will remain candidates for my hand next season."

Miss Jeon giggled. "Then may we expect to see another wedding in the Hong family next season?"

"... Perhaps so."

—----------------------------------------------------------

Viscount Joshua Hong's wedding was a grand success, in no small part thanks to you.

The bride's wedding gown was greatly admired by the entire ton and Miss Lee thanked you for your efforts toward ensuring they had a smooth ceremony. The happily married couple left for their honeymoon immediately after. You returned with your mother to the Hongs' countryside estate for the winter. 

It was a quiet winter without your brother at home. You spent most evenings practising music by the fireplace and reading and writing your correspondence. Baron Wright and Mr. Carter were both quite serious about their affections for you, and you wondered if perhaps one of them would approach the Viscount for your hand as soon as your family was back in London for the next season.

You could not decide if you cared enough to marry either of them. But you were already in your third season, and now with your brother married too, the clock was ticking. Luckily, you had the entire ton to choose from. You doubted there was a single unattached man who would not welcome your affections if you chose to bestow them upon him. 

Except perhaps Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. 

But as always, he was the exception to the rule. 

You were pleased to return to London after the end of winter. Your sister-in-law, the new Viscountess, was equally excited. She had fully embraced her new role as your brother’s wife, and seemed much happier and brighter by his side than she had ever appeared before.

It almost made you envious of their marital bliss. 

“I hope you will find someone who makes you as happy as Joshua makes me,” the Viscountess gushed as the servants hurried to unpack your belongings and set up your London home for the new season. “Marriage really is quite wonderful and I would love for you to experience it, sister.” 

“Well, I must find the right man,” you reminded her. “And more importantly, I must find the right dress for the ball that the Duchess of Graham is hosting tomorrow. It is going to be the most spectacular event of the season and I cannot afford to look anything but my best.”

“You always look beautiful.” 

“Your words flatter me, sister; but it is your first public appearance as the Viscountess and you must be equally careful. Perhaps a trip to the modiste is in order?” 

The Viscountess smiled. “Perhaps it is.”

—------------------------------------------------

It was not easy to be the centre of attention at the Duchess of Graham’s ball.

The beginning of a new season came with so much fresh gossip and juicy rumours that it was impossible to keep track of it all. Whispers abounded from the moment you descended your carriage and entered the Duchess’ palatial London manor. 

“The youngest Miss Yoon is the most awaited debutante of the season,” your cousin Ella Williams informed you as you both took a turn about the beautiful ballroom. The dancing had not yet begun. You were taking the opportunity to admire the sheer magnificence of the Duchess’ manor.

It was beyond anything you had seen before. 

“Miss Yoon?” you asked. “Mr. Yoon Jeonghan’s younger sister?”

“She is rumoured to be a great beauty. And now that the messy issue of her dowry is resolved and her fortune restored, I expect she will be receiving her fair share of offers.” 

You nodded. “I would like to meet this young woman. But first, Ella, tell me about the Duchess. I knew she was rich and had connections to the royal family but… the extravagance of this manor! It is at least three times the size of any other home I have seen in London, including my own.” 

Ella nodded eagerly as you both admired an enormous marble statue in the entryway to the ball room. 

“Of course. The Grahams have historically been very intimate with the royal family and their fortune is beyond comparison. But the Duke of Graham left no male heirs. When he died last year, the title should have died with him- but the Queen herself decreed as a special exception that the title would continue through his only daughter.” 

Your eyes widened. “Fascinating. I am sure this has never happened before."

“Indeed. It was quite the controversy. Much of the nobility was displeased with a woman being able to hold a title without the support of a man. They insisted that she produce a male heir at the soonest. It is rumoured that the Duchess intends to marry soon. Perhaps this season.`` 

You sighed. “I wish she wouldn’t. It is quite nice to have a Duchess in her own right.” 

“I agree. But she has not shown any interest in the gentlemen of the ton, so perhaps she will marry someone from the royal family instead. A Prince? Anything is possible, really,” Ella gushed excitedly. “As for the manor, it has been in the Graham family for many generations. Much of the furniture is antique and gifted by the royal family. I have heard the library has an antique pianoforte which was gifted hundreds of years ago by the King himself.” 

Your eyes sparkled. “A pianoforte, you say?”

“Perhaps the oldest still in existence in London.” 

Your interest was piqued. 

“Ella- I must see this pianoforte,” you decided.  

Ella laughed. “Unfortunately, cousin, I am not entirely sure where it is. The library is upstairs but I have never been to this manor before. I have heard that your brother is acquainted with the Duchess. Perhaps if you ask her permission…” 

You shook your head. “Ask her? She is the hostess of the ball, we should never have a chance to speak to her tonight. Look at the size of this event! Nobody would notice if we slipped upstairs in between a few dances. The staircase is not even blocked.” 

Ella was startled. “We?”

“I cannot go alone!” you cried. 

“But-but…” 

“I will grant you any wish within my power, Ella,” you promised your cousin as you seized her hand and pressed it tightly. “You may choose any dress from my wardrobe- even the ones I have not yet worn. Take your pick from my jewellery box. I simply must be able to lay my fingers on this historical piano.” 

Ella laughed and removed her hand from your grasp. “All right. You are lucky that this is the first ball of the season and all the attention is focused on the Duchess and the new debutantes.”

“Show me your dance card,” you insisted, seizing the little card tied to your cousin’s wrist. “You are unoccupied for the third dance, as am I. We will meet near those stairs at the beginning of the third dance and slip upstairs. I am promised to dance with Baron Wright for the fourth- so we must find the piano and return to the ballroom by then.” 

Ella giggled. “All right, cousin. But keep your promise. I intend to take the lavender dress you wore to the Viscount’s wedding.” 

“It is yours.” 

—--------------------------------------------------------------

You danced the first two dances of the evening with Mr. Carter and Mr. Hessington. Both of whom were very vocal about their admiration for you. You accepted their advances with your usual coolness and light flirtation.

You were still deciding which of your admirers to properly encourage. For now, you would keep your options open. 

The moment the second dance ended, you hurried to the foot of the grand marble staircase. Ella was nowhere to be seen. You waited impatiently for your younger cousin, but the enormous grandfather clock in the foyer continued to tick and after a few minutes, you could hear the opening notes of the third dance beginning in the ballroom.

You were running out of time. Where was Ella? 

You made a quick decision- surely there would be nobody upstairs except for a servant or two? The ball was in full swing here anyway. You could be up and back down in a matter of minutes. 

It would be fine. 

You lifted your skirts and ran up the stairs. At the top was an enormous landing and, as you expected, not a single person in sight. You walked down a hallway of enormous, studded half-open doors until you finally found the library. The high walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books rising into the air. 

In the centre of the room- an enormous white pianoforte. 

You walked towards the instrument and sat down before it with your heartbeat thudding. You were no stranger to expensive instruments but this was undoubtedly the most beautiful one that you had ever seen in your life. It was delicately hand-carved and the quality was evident from the moment you gently brushed your fingers over the keys. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered to yourself before pressing your fingers down to play a chord. The noise was strange and jarring. 

“That is disappointing,” a voice said from behind you.

You almost screamed in shock. You had not realised that there was anyone else in the room with you. You jumped up from the piano and whirled around to see Mr. Jeon Wonwoo was standing in the shadow of one of the bookshelves, leaning against it with a book in his hand. 

“Mr. Jeon?” you demanded. 

He stepped forward from the shadow. Mr. Jeon looked as handsome as ever-  his dark hair fell forward barely brushing his eyes and he looked less… serious than he normally did. The corner of his lips were turned up in an almost-smile. 

“Miss Hong,” he greeted. 

“I-I did not see that you were already in the room,” you stammered quickly. “You should have announced your presence to me. What are you doing up here?” 

Mr. Jeon held up the book in his hand. “Reading.” 

“And avoiding the ball, I see, as always. I suppose you consider yourself far too superior to the young ladies here to bestow them with the gift of your presence,” you replied snidely. “Shall I thank you for deigning to speak to me today?” 

He blinked. “No thanks is necessary.” 

“Excellent. Then I shall ask you to please leave. It is quite improper for us to be alone together here.” 

Mr. Jeon smirked lightly. “Leave? Miss Hong, I am afraid that I was here long before you. By the common rules of courtesy, if you do not wish to be in my presence then you are very welcome to leave yourself. The door is open.”

This infuriating man simply would not let you be.  

You glanced at the enormous grandfather clock in the corner of the room. You could still hear the faint notes of music coming from the ballroom below, but time was running out. You had no idea when you would have another chance to experience this instrument. Mr. Jeon would not ruin this for you. 

“I am sure you have been to hundreds of libraries, Mr. Jeon, but this instrument is one of the oldest antique pianofortes in London. I only wanted a few moments alone with it, if you would be so kind.” 

Mr. Jeon’s eyes flickered towards the instrument. 

“It looks antique but the noise it made just now was quite awful,” he remarked.   

You huffed and pressed some of the keys again. The noise was still awkward. “It is simply not tuned. Evidently nobody has played it in a long time. The fact that you could not tell leads me to believe that your knowledge and appreciation for music is much lower than I originally imagined.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Why? Because I would not compliment your performance last year?” he demanded.

“It was an excellent performance,” you said defensively, anger rising. “Regardless of whether you are willing to accept it or not, Mr. Jeon. I can allow for differences in personal taste, but there is some objectivity in the field that deems me more than a mere child with potential.” 

 Mr. Jeon closed the book in his hands and stepped closer to you. “The problem was not your performance.” 

“Oh?” you demanded. 

“No. Your performance was masterful. I am afraid what you failed to realise is that your self-indulgent display of talent left your friend, Miss Brooke, almost in tears,” Mr. Jeon replied. His dark eyes narrowed and he crossed the library towards you in long, effortless strides. You felt your heart constrict in your chest. 

“What?” you demanded, confused.

“You are evidently the better musician. But what I found distasteful, Miss Hong, is how you felt the need to make a spectacle of Miss Brooke by showing the entire room just how superior you were to her. That was a selfish, vain, tactless thing to do to a young lady who believes herself to be your friend.” 

“Miss Brooke made a spectacle of herself,” you snapped. “She should have known better than to perform for company when she can barely produce a recognizable nursery rhyme from the piano!” 

Mr. Jeon shook his head. “You could have ended it there. Perhaps even closed the instrument for the evening. But you had to outperform her by playing your most difficult piece. You used her to satisfy your vanity.” 

You could not help it- you laughed. You could not believe the audacity of this man, after all this time, to defend his actions in this manner. You were becoming angrier and angrier.

Your cheeks felt hot and your fists clenched. 

“Are you telling me, Mr. Jeon,” you asked as you laughed in disbelief. “That your blatant public insult of my performance while you were a guest in my home was an act of chivalry in defence of a slight you perceived against Miss Brooke? You are mad. Really, you must be quite mad to think that is even remotely an appropriate defence for your actions-”

“And you must be very proud indeed, to allow such a minor slight to make you so angry after all these months” Mr. Jeon replied with a smirk.

He was standing in front of the instrument now, mere feet away from you. 

You scoffed as you stepped forward again. You would not back down from this man. 

“Yes, of course. Yes, please, Mr. Jeon, I would love to hear more about my pride from the man who infamously hides in libraries during balls and snubs every young lady that crosses his path. Do you consider women beneath your notice? But of course- why should Mr. Jeon Wonwoo bother with polite conversation with stupid young ladies when he is evidently so superior in intellect and manner to our entire sex,” you hissed. 

His eyes looked wild for a moment; you had never seen so much emotion in Mr. Jeon’s eyes and you could hear your own blood pumping in your ears from anger as you stared back at him. You were barely a foot apart and you could see the way his chest heaved up and down underneath his black coat. 

The room was filled with a complete silence. 

Silence. 

The faint music from the ballroom below had stopped. 

Suddenly, a number of things occurred in the flash of a single moment. 

You realised that the third dance had ended and you had spent too long upstairs. There was the sound of footsteps outside the partially open library door. Jeon Wonwoo looked startled- he suddenly took a step back to put some distance between you, but his foot caught on the leg of the pianoforte and his arm came down upon the keys to steady himself. 

You darted forward to steady him but it was too late. His palm had already hit the keys by the time you seized his arm and the loud, jarring piano noise was released into the silent room with no chance of concealment. 

The door to the library burst open. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no. 

You were ruined. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

[wishesofeternity]

“You toil still in service to men. Your father, your husband, your son. You desire not to be free, but to make a window in the wall of your prison. Have you never imagined yourself on the Iron Throne?”

A couple of things:

1)  Alicent is a queen consort and is a Hightower by birth, so no, she cannot imagine herself on the Iron Throne, because Targaryen succession does not work like that. This is basic knowledge that 5-year-olds would presumably be expected to know, and I am astounded and embarrassed that Rhaenys, with her age and experience, lacks this fundamental bit of common sense.

2) Alicent has been the functional regent of Westeros for the past six years. In the previous episode, we see her actively governing the realm and overseeing all royal matters (while Rhaenyra sits on her ass with her loser husband in Dragonstone). We also literally hear Vaemond tell Rhaenys “It’s not a king who sits the Iron Throne these days, good sister. It’s the queen”, so I can assure you, Rhaenys, that Alicent has physically sat on the Iron Throne just fine. She lacks authority, obviously, as she is the consort and not the king, but she certainly did not and does not lack power, to say nothing about influence. This ridiculous show, however, does not seem to be able to differentiate these terms.

3) Does this show not understand that Alicent installing her son as King is not just beneficial to him (which the show acknowledges) but also directly beneficial to her? This is a patriarchal and patrimony-inclined world; Alicent’s son being King would not only mean immense prestige for her family; it would also mean the ultimate peak of power and influence for her (which we see her unapologetically wield in the books). In Westeros, we see Visenya Targaryen supporting her brother and her son’s kingship rather than angling for the throne in her own right, and wielding absolute power and authority in their reigns. Historically, Empress Matilda (the female claimant to the throne in the Anarchy, the war this story is based off) relinquished her claim in favor of her son, Henry II, presumably because she recognized he stood a better chance at gaining the throne (which he did) and continuing her legacy. Joanna of Flanders, who literally wore armor and led troops into battle, did it to support the cause of her husband in direct opposition to the claim of his niece. Yet according to this show’s logic, every single woman who has fought for their fathers and brothers and husbands and sons subscribes to internalized misogyny rather than, idk, supporting their families and gaining power, security and status in the process. Not to mention, Alicent relinquishing her children’s claim and stepping aside would not only be utterly humiliating and degrading for her from a political and personal standpoint, but also legitimately life-threatening for her children and her family. More competent writers would understand that she did not have much of a choice.

4) “You desire not to be free but make a window in the wall of your prison” is the MOST SICKENING PIECE OF VICTIM-BLAMING BULLSHIT I have ever heard in a long, long time. Alicent was a teenager when she had to marry the much-older King (her best friend’s own father) because of his desire for her. He repeatedly raped her and forced at least four pregnancies on her that she did not want. She was utterly isolated at court after her marriage, lacking comfort and friends (including Rhaenyra, who abandoned Alicent for three years after learning that she was being made to marry her father and, based on the comments she made, did not even stop to consider the awfulness of Alicent’s predicament). She had to endure the humiliation of her father being fired and made to leave court, leaving her even more alone than she previously was. She had to endure her husband constantly favoring his firstborn and his grandchildren by his firstborn rather than Alicent’s children who were a direct result of her rape by him. Her son was maimed and bleeding and her husband chose to defend his firstborn’s moronic decisions rather than bring him justice.  She is not a Targaryen, she does not and cannot ride a dragon. WHAT WAS ALICENT SUPPOSED TO EXCEPT TRY AND SURVIVE? HOW ON EARTH IS SHE BEING JUDGED FOR IT?

(And this ridiculously condescending comment is coming from Rhaenys of all people, lmao. A dragon-riding Targaryen who was an actual claimant to the Iron Throne, unlike Alicent. So, what was stopping HER from seizing power, pray tell? After all, she even has the Velaryon forces to back her claim. Instead, in her own words, she made peace with her sidelining. She constantly disagreed with her husband’s ambition regarding her claim and her family’s power. She volunteered her 12-year-old daughter as a child bride for her own aging cousin. The hypocrisy and double standards here is pathetic, and the lack of self-awareness on the part of the show is even worse)

Alicent was legitimately terrified for her children and her family’s lives, and she was entirely justified in doing so: if Rhaenyra ascended the throne, Alicent’s children would inevitably become threats to her whether or not they directly opposed her. This is unavoidable. Look up any historical usurpation, and that’s the inescapable result - and that’s not even going into the fact that Rhaenyra and Daemon are people who are reckless, cruel and indifferent to violence, and would not hesitate to kill any opposition to their reign. The show’s so-called claim that Alicent is upholding the patriarchy falls apart when you consider the fact that this is the only solution that guarantees the security of her children and herself. How is Alicent’s perfectly understandable motivation written as internalized misogyny? 

And moreover, from a writing perspective ... why give her this arc at all? Fire & Blood was badly written, but it doesn’t change the fact that they looked at an ambitious woman who wanted to enhance her power and improve her family’s standing, who directly defied her husband’s wishes in terms of succession in favor of her own, and rewrote this choice into one borne from internalized misogyny. They wrote her as a child bride, a rape victim, an abuse victim and a teen mother and then used this backstory to say that she was conditioned to become the so-called agent of patriarchy (which they do not support with believable evidence) who opposes their so-called feminist protagonist (whose primary enabler is Alicent’s rapist and abuser, btw, not that his abuse is acknowledged nearly enough by the narrative considering how heavily he was romanticized in the last few episodes) It’s a heinous, disrespectful, absolutely terrible writing choice, and I cannot emphasize this nearly enough.

(Oh, and speaking of Rhaenyra, let’s talk about how her queenship solidifies Viserys’s claim over Rhaenys’s. Let’s talk about if she truly cared about women inheriting the Iron Throne - as opposed to just herself - she would have considered this. Let’s talk about how she disregarded the claims of Baela and Rhaena in favour of her son when it came to Driftmark. Rhaenyra is not challenging the patriarchy, her ascension to the Iron Throne will not change anything for anyone except for herself, do not make me laugh by claiming otherwise)

ON TOP OF THIS, the show can’t even decide on a consistent motivation or characterization for Alicent. They repeatedly show us her visceral and justified fear for her children’s lives, which is somehow forgotten in episode eight in favor of her saying that Rhaenyra will be a good queen. Her desire to see her son crowned and thus ensure her children’s safety is disregarded in favor of her actually wanting to fulfil Viserys’s half-baked wishes on his deathbed. They have her say that everyone knows Aegon will be king, and then act surprised when the Green council plots to install him as King. They do not care about Alicent’s personhood and individual character; what they care about is her position as a foil and antagonist to Rhaenyra.

In conclusion: this show sucks. It shows absolutely no understanding regarding the politics of its own world and our medieval history and is a parody and a travesty of respectful storytelling. It has inconsistent and baffling character motivations and downright misogynistic writing, and this is not acknowledged nearly enough by the fandom.

[slut4thebroken]

Erotomania pt. 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x yandere!reader

Summary | You’ve been in love with your patient since the first session you had with him and finally make a plan to break him out of Arkham so you can be together forever.

Warnings | Slow burn, angst, lowkey murder lol, reader is a bit delulu, Jon is kinda mean :(

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | First slow burn fic I’ve ever written lmao. We’ll see how it goes

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You’ve been Dr. Crane’s psychiatrist for a few months now. You enjoyed learning about his work, what drove him to such a state, why he is the way he is. But most of all, you enjoyed the way he thought he was manipulating you. You knew what he wanted; someone to break him out of here. You wanted the same thing, but unlike his plan, yours extended past that. 

So for now, you let him think he was manipulating you. It wasn’t too hard since all of his words made you swoon. You stared at him, batting your eyelashes with your chin resting on your hand, listening to him talk and blushing when he complimented you. Sometimes it was your physical appearance, but a lot of the time it was your intelligence. That meant a lot to you coming from a fellow psychiatrist— let alone one who used to be the chief psychiatrist at this very institution. You started working after he was admitted, but you’ve heard the whispers from other coworkers. Part of you thinks that’s why you were assigned to him— because you had no previous relationship with him. 

“I brought you something.” You smiled, grabbing your bag from the floor. 

“Other than the coffee?” He gave you a warm smile back, glancing at the coffee cup you had brought for him. 

“Mhm.” You took out the miniature scarecrow plush and set it on the table, then put your bag back on the floor. He gave you an amused look as he picked it up to examine it. “It’s a little on the nose, but I saw it and it made me think of you.” 

“I love it— A very thoughtful gift… I only wish I could give you something in return.” 

“I don’t need anything. Just talking with you is enough.” You said earnestly. 

“Are you trying to flatter me, doctor?” He asked coyly, making your cheeks heat up. 

“N-no, I just..” You stammered, trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t make you sound like an idiot. 

“Relax, darling. I’m only teasing.” He said and you let out a heavy breath. “Just talking is enough for me too. Our sessions are my favorite part of the entire day. But I appreciate the gifts.”  

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, enjoying his words. 

“I really do wish though that I could give you something too.” His voice was almost solemn. “If I got out of here, I’d get you a gift everyday, to show you how much you mean to me.” He said sweetly, making you blush as you tried to hide a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. 

“I- Maybe I could get you out?” 

“Don’t give me false hope, my dear. I know I’m not worth you potentially losing your job over. I’ve grown content with just our talks.” 

“You are worth it, Jon. And I know you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.” You reached across the table and tentatively took his hands in yours. “I’ll get you out of here, then we can be together.” You said quietly, making him smile. 

True to your word, you did get him out. When he tried to gas you with the canister of his fear toxin that you gave him and nothing came out, he looked at you in confusion, but the expression quickly dropped when he saw the handgun aimed at his stomach. 

“Don’t make a scene. I need to get you somewhere safe before anyone notices you.” You drove him to your apartment, having him change into the clothes you brought him before getting out of the car. Once you were inside, you locked the door with the new hardware you installed— it needs a key on both sides. 

“If you scream, someone will call the cops and all my hard work will have been for nothing. Do you understand?” 

“What is this?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“I just made a slight modification to your plan. It’ll be better like this— you’ll be safer.” With him here, he wouldn’t be captured and sent to Arkham again. He’d be able to stay with you. 

“You’re kidnapping me?” 

“What?” You asked, brows scrunching together and lips forming a frown. 

“Can I leave?” 

“No, it’s not safe. I already told you that.” This was not how you pictured this conversation going. 

“So you’re kidnapping me.” He deadpanned, making your frown deepen. 

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice.” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“For what?” He scoffed. “Taking me from one prison to another?” 

“I did what you wanted! I got you out of there! Now we can be together.” You all but whined, bottom lip trembling because of his reaction. 

“God— if I’d known you belong in that nut house more than me, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble.” You bit your lip as tears quickly pooled in your eyes. 

“When I come back, I really hope your attitude will have changed.” You warned, walking toward the door. You slammed it shut then locked it again and left to get some air. 

When you returned, a woman was standing outside your door, pacing. Your steps slowed as you eyed her carefully. 

“Oh- you! Can you help me?” She asked you, clearly very distressed. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Well I was standing outside my door, trying to find my key in my purse, and it sounded like someone was messing with the handle, trying to get out. I’m worried someone’s locked in there.” 

“That’s your apartment?” You asked, gesturing to the door across from your own. 

“Yes, that’s how I was able to hear it.” 

“Did you call the police yet?” That would definitely not be good because you didn’t exactly come up with a plan for that scenario…

“No, I just heard it a few minutes ago, I was trying to decide what to do. Should I call them?” You nodded as you thought, looking between the woman and her apartment. 

“That’s probably a good idea. I can help. Your phone’s inside?” 

“Yes.” She said, then hurriedly opened the door and let you in, closing it after you. When she started moving toward the phone, you walked up behind her and took her head in both hands, then turned it as fast and hard as you could. Surprisingly, she dropped to the floor after a loud crack— you weren’t sure you’d be strong enough to do it, but you were glad you actually could. Grabbing a tissue from the counter, you used it to open and close the door before going back inside your apartment. 

“I hope you’re happy.” You said as you locked the door again. “I just had to kill some sweet old lady because of you.” He was sitting on the couch and he looked over at you with poorly concealed shock. 

“What?” 

“She heard you trying to get out from the other side of the door.” You explained, setting down your bag and pocketing your keys. “Pull a stunt like that again and if the cops make me the primary suspect, I’ll say that you forced me to help you escape, then made me give you a place to lay low for a while, and that you were the one who killed her. Do you understand?” He stared at you, probably trying to decide if he really believed you or not. “Jon…” You warned. 

“Yes.” He bit back, making you smile. 

“Thank you. Now, are you hungry?” You walked over to the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“I’m not going to fucking play house with you.” He spat. You sighed and turned back to face him. 

“What more could you possibly need, Jon? I’m supporting us financially, cooking dinner, doing the chores… doing other things too if you want.” You added the last part with a blush. “How is this not enough for you?” 

“Because I don’t want to be locked in here for the rest of my fucking life!” He yelled, making you take in a sharp breath. “I mean, seriously, what is your plan? You just hold me hostage until one of us dies?” 

“You’re not a hostage.” You said quietly. 

“Don’t lie to yourself.” He scoffed. “No matter how much you try to spin it in your head, that’s what this is.” You let out a shaky breath and looked down. 

“You just need time. Then you’ll see that I’m right.” 

“No, what I need is to get the fuck out of here.” 

“Stop it!” You finally snapped. “Stop being like this, Jon. I did this for us— for you!” Deep down, there was a voice telling you that if the roles were reversed, you would’ve switched tactics by now and you’re not sure why he hasn’t yet. He knows the same, if not more than you, about psychology, he should be able to figure that out. 

“Whatever delusion you’ve made in your head is just that; a delusion.” 

“You know what? I’m not hungry anymore. Cook for yourself.” You spat, walking in your room and slamming the door shut. 

He didn’t come in your room that night, but you heard him rummaging around, probably trying to find a spare key. Thankfully it seemed like he was smart enough to not try to kill you since he really would be trapped then. 

You left early in the morning. He remained sitting on the couch, wide awake, while you made coffee and got some breakfast. Before you left you told him to help himself to anything in the kitchen, but he didn’t reply. He barely even glanced at you. 

His actions were starting to lower your spirits a little. You knew he’d probably need a little bit of time to adjust but you didn’t expect him to be so cold. 

When you left work later that evening, you stopped to get some food before going home, hoping this would be a nice peace offering. He was still sitting on the couch, but things were moved around— he was definitely snooping very thoroughly. 

“I brought some food.” You said, hanging your coat up by the door and toeing off your heels, then setting the box on the counter. “Pizza— cheese and pepperoni because I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” 

“I don’t like pizza.” You tried not to be deterred by his tone. 

“Everybody likes pizza.” As you opened the fridge to grab a drink, you noticed that this was one of the few places he hadn’t touched, the sink was void of any dishes too. “Have you eaten at all today?” When he didn’t reply you knew you were right. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager for some real food after being in Arkham for so long.” You commented as you got a plate to put a few slices on. When you sat down on the other end of the couch, he stiffened. “How was your day?” 

He scoffed in response and looked away from you with a scowl. 

“Commissioner Gordon stopped by again. He had a warrant for all of my notes from our sessions.” You took another bite and after you finished chewing, when he didn’t talk, you continued. “That man has one of the most pitiful hero complexes I’ve ever seen. He thinks he can get rid of all of the corruption in the force? In Gotham?” You scoffed a laugh and shook your head in disbelief as you took another bite. “He’s almost as bad as Batman.” You watched his cheek tense as he clenched his jaw. “I’m surprised he didn’t pay Arkham a visit.” 

“Jesus— do you ever stop talking?” He spat, making you frown. 

“I thought you liked our talks.” 

“It’s not my fault you were stupid enough to believe every word I said.” His words made your chest ache and you looked down at the pizza in your hand, feeling your eyes start to burn. 

“You weren’t lying.” You said quietly. You’re trained to know when people are lying, you work with manipulators every single day… you would’ve known. 

“I wanted out of there. I was going to say whatever shit your delusional brain wanted to hear to make that happen.” He said, almost viscously. “I mean, did you seriously think you were actually helping me? I don’t ever think I’ve seen a doctor less competent than you.” For some reason, that jab hurt more than anything else. Maybe it’s because you admired his work as a doctor. Or maybe it’s because he seemed so sincere when he complimented your skill before. But either way, it hurt like hell. 

“I’m competent enough to know how to manipulate you into thinking you had the upper hand.” You muttered, keeping your eyes down. 

He was suddenly lunging at you, slapping the plate out of your hands and grabbing your neck, pushing you down onto the couch. You flinched as the ceramic broke on the floor and he tightened his grip, leaning down over you. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you right now.” He hissed. “Maybe I wouldn’t find the key and I’d die, but at least I wouldn’t have to listen to your annoying fucking voice anymore.” Your stomach churned at the fact that he'd rather die than be here with you. This isn’t even close to how it was supposed to go. 

You let out a choked sob and his expression twisted into one of disgust. Once you started though, it only got worse. The second you were full on sobbing, he recoiled away from you and went back to the other side of the couch. 

“I’m trying so hard— to make you happy,” you said through a sob, “but you hate me. I made you hate me.” You cried almost violently and he didn’t say a word. “I love you so much and you hate me.” You whimpered, suddenly struck with that realization. He abruptly stood up and stormed off, and you watched his blurry figure go into your bedroom. You flinched again when the door slammed shut, then let out another sob. 

You cried until your head and throat ached, then just sat there, staring at your broken plate on the ground. You didn’t know he could be so violent. But apparently you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

After a while of just sitting and thinking and wanting to continue crying, you decided to get up. You cleaned the floor and put the pizza away before going in the bathroom to get ready for bed. You didn’t end up showering because you knew once you got in there, you’d start crying again, so you’d just have to get up a little early tomorrow. Once you finished and opened the door, you noticed your bedroom door was now open. Looking over you saw Jon on the couch and the gesture would’ve made you smile if you weren’t in such a horrible mood. 

Part 2

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[westviewtroubles]

Look Into Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: It's finally time for your first date with Eddie.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: fluff! so fluffy i'm getting a toothache!

A/N: I had to write it. I had to! I actually have a few series along with some oneshots planned, but I just had to write it. Here, in all it's glory, is the third installment to "Across The Room." This can be read as a standalone, however I recommend reading the two installments before this one!

Part 1 and Part 2

It was a morning sure to go down in history, Eddie running around the trailer like a headless chicken, his hair flowing behind him. It had been a week since you'd agreed to go on a date with him, and he'd spent every night after that thinking about you, and how he could make sure you'd have the best date possible.

He could still vividly remember the way you got on the tips of your toes, giving him a kiss on his cheek and whispering into his ear, accepting his invitation. He could barely sleep the night after, his cheek still burning up where you'd kissed him.

All of his dreams were plagued by how it'd feel to actually kiss you, how soft your lips would feel against his, and how he'd have to bend down slightly in order to actually reach your lips. He couldn't stop thinking about how soft your hands might be, compared to his calloused ones, or how giddy it might make him to be able to wrap his arm around your waist with a smug look on his face, knowing he was holding onto the prettiest girl of Hawkins High.

The only downside was that his uncle now likely thought he was going insane, as the evening before included Eddie running around in a similar way that he was doing now, making sure that his best black jeans and his favorite jean vest were washed, Wayne wondering what the hell had gotten into his nephew.

But now, with only thirty minutes left before he was supposed to pick you up, every single one of his thoughts seemed to be scattered around.

Somehow, you felt the most energetic you had in years, despite only sleeping a little bit over five hours. You had no idea why you'd put an alarm for 6AM, despite having agreed with Eddie that he'd come to pick you up at 12AM, but now, five minutes to twelve, you were relieved that you had.

You couldn't get yourself to believe what was about to happen, that for some reason, the guy you'd been pining over since the first time you'd seen him, was taking you out on a date.

The first time you saw him, it was the first day of your third year and your first day at Hawkins High, as your father had gotten some high-paying government job, and decided to uproot your entire life after living in the same house for your entire life.

You didn't know anyone there, and you were completely freaking out. The school was empty of students, almost making you think that it was some holiday, but then you saw him.

It was only for a brief moment, but when he saw you, he smiled. And somehow, that smile managed to kill every feeling of nervousness inside you. From then on out, you'd seek him out in every room you were in, and when you saw him smile, you felt nothing but warmth.

Maybe he knew that you were thinking about him, because at that moment, you heard your doorbell ring. And with one deep breath, you rushed down the stairs.

Eddie could almost feel his jaw drop to the ground when the door in front of him swung open. You stood there with a open-mouthed smile, a sudden gust of wind brushing some of your hair back.

"Are you ready to go?" You asked, cocking your head slightly, your hand gripping a small bag, and the thoughts about holding your hand came rushing to him.

"Yeah, definitely." Eddie said, clearing his throat, "I had a few thoughts about what we could do."

Few thoughts. As if he hadn't been planning it ever since you'd agreed.

"Sounds good!"

The situation finally started to feel real to you once you'd climbed into Eddie's van. It wasn't like you hadn't hung out a hundred times before, but this felt different. This was different.

The ten minutes that had already went by had been spent in complete silence. Well, there had been one word. As soon as Eddie had turned on the engine of his van, a metal song you hadn't heard before started blasting on full volume, the boy turning it off and sheepishly muttering an apology. For some reason, you thought that was the most endearing thing ever.

"So." You cleared your throat, determined to end the silence between you two, "How's history going for you?"

As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. Stupid. You studied with him every other day, you already knew how history was going for him. But even though you saw your question as the dumbest thing to ask him, he chuckled.

"It's going alright." Eddie said, keeping one of his hands on the steering wheel while using his other hand to brush hair away from his face, "How's it going for you?"

"Well, we had a test last week," You looked down at your freshly manicured hands, "and after grading them, Mrs. Click said that I was the only one to get full points."

"That's my girl."

And when those words left his lips, you could feel your heart doing somersaults. Looking to him, you saw the small, victorious smile on his lips as he drove, your heart pounding against your chest when he momentarily turned his gaze to you, his smile only widening.

Eddie had never understood any of those cheesy love songs about someone's heart coming to a pause as soon as they saw someone, but at that moment, he was sure he was living in one.

You stood a small distance away from him, your back to him. The tall grass went up to your knees, and your attention was taken by the flowers peeking from the ground. Something about the blue sundress made it look as if it was made for you, the hem flowing slightly along to the breeze.

He'd found the field of flowers the day of your first lesson, and it made him think of you, the daisies smelling exactly like your perfume. And when he saw you holding one of the flowers, it was like you belonged there.

The sun behind you looked like a halo that was surrounding him as you turned to look at him, the smile he'd come to know too well on your face, it took everything in him not to walk over to you and kiss you.

"Come smell it!" You urged, and it took him seconds to stand at your side as you pushed the flower to his face, "Doesn't it smell good?"

"It smells like you."

You simply shook your head, casually putting the flower behind your ear. "How did you find this place? It's so beautiful."

"One time, I was coming home from Hellfire when I got the urge to take a detour." Eddie laughed, looking to you, "That's when I saw this. It made me think of you."

You nudged him slightly, covering your eyes from the sun as you looked up at him, "Are you being serious or are you just being cheesy?"

Eddie gasped, feigning offence at your comment. "I can't believe you'd accuse me of being cheesy. Do I look like someone who would say something like that if I didn't mean it?"

"I guess not."

"Yeah, so stop questioning my integrity. It's insulting."

"Can't have that, can we?" You chuckled, taking hold of his hand like it was the most casual thing ever.

But he could feel his heart turning backwards inside his chest, the playful smile on your face just making it worse. Somehow, every single thing in the world made sense to him, while also being the most foreign thing ever. It wasn't like anything he had dreamed of, it was better.

Even the thought of him being half as excited as you were for your date was making you giddy, and by the amount of planning that seemed to have gone into the date, it seemed like he was just as happy to go on a date with you as you were to go with him.

The two of you sat in the back row at The Hawk, watching some action movie you'd already forgotten the name of. You'd already spent half of the movie staring at Eddie.

He'd only let your hand go when it was time to get back in his van, and to get out, but for the remainder of the time, it was clasped in yours, your fingers intertwined together. And you'd be lying if you said it didn't have an effect on you.

Eddie looked so beautiful, even in the dark, and you thought it unfair that even his side profile looked so breathtaking as he concentrated on the screen, his brows slightly furrowed and his tongue peeking out every now and then.

What you didn't expect, was for his lips to start moving out of nowhere.

"Are you bored?"

Even the way he whispered sent shivers down your spine as you stared up at him, slightly leaning towards him with dazed eyes. Eddie turned his head to look at you, a grin on his face.

"No." You said quietly, clearing your throat, "Why do you ask?"

"Because you haven't been paying any attention to the movie."

"I have!"

"Oh yeah? What's happened so far?"

"I don't have an answer if you're gonna put me on the spot like that."

"Sure. That's the reason why." He smiled, turning back to the movie while you kept gazing at him with a slack jaw.

He hadn't shown that spot to anyone. The small diner on the outskirts of Hawkins was his spot. And now, it was yours too.

The clouds outside had started turning grey, and you were sat in his usual booth in the corner of the diner, on different sides. Eddie thought it was so endearing how your eyes brightened up when you realized you were on a first-name basis with the waiter.

"So, I'm guessing you come here often." You said, sitting across from him, fiddling with the straw of your milkshake as the two of you were waiting for your food to arrive.

"It's one of my favorite spots, actually."

"How have I never heard of this place?" You asked, looking around, "I mean, it seems like it'd be popular."

"Give me some credit, you don't think I'd take you just anywhere for our first date?" He said, making you chuckle, "I found this almost ten years ago when I agreed to play hide and seek in the woods with some of the bigger kids."

"I was the first to seek, and over an hour went by and I hadn't found anyone. I was starting to get tired, and I had no idea where I was. That's when I stumbled across this diner, and I came in. Doris, our waitress, offered me a free milkshake and let me call my uncle."

"That's so sweet of her!" You exclaimed, "I'm happy you wanted to show me this place."

"I thought it was time I showed someone how awesome the burgers in this place are."

After clearing your throat, you started going through your bag. "I wanted to give you something." You said, slightly hesitant. "I hope you don't think it's weird, or anything."

You placed a folded piece of paper on the table, quickly pulling your hands away as to make sure you wouldn't snatch it back, taking a deep breath as Eddie took it off the table, slowly unfolding it with furrowed brows.

When he saw it, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his heart. He finally knew what was in your notebook that kept you so occupied, what you kept hiding away from him

Eddie smiled, looking at the picture of him that seemed like it was smiling back at him. The way you had drawn him was so beautiful, it would've made him feel like it was impossible for it to be of him if it wasn't for his name written on top of it with cursive with a heart next to it. Eddie couldn't believe this was how you saw him.

Nobody had ever given him something like that. Nobody had ever made him feel like his heart would burst out of his chest any moment. But somehow, ever since he set his eyes on you, it was all you seemed to do. And to think that you would feel the same, made him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

"It's amazing." He said, looking down at the drawing before looking up at you, "I can't believe you drew it."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely." He laughed like it was the most obvious thing ever, "I can't believe you'd make this. I hope you know, I'm gonna hang this up in my room and look at it every day. Shit, I'll buy a frame for it."

And the way you laughed made him want to pull your face to his and kiss you. Your face lit up, and he knew he'd never get sick of that laugh. That even, when everything else felt like ruin, your laugh would never stop being the brightest thing he'd ever see.

He brought his hand to your cheek, your laughter abruptly coming to an end as he rose up slightly, leaning over to you, his eyes basically pulled to your lips.

And as you were about to rise to your seat, he heard someone approaching the two of you, quickly sitting back down, leaving you to stare at him blankly.

The car ride back to your house had been quiet, but unlike the car ride to the field of flowers, this one wasn't tense, or awkward. You listened to the rain tapping on the roof of Eddie's van as he drove, his ring-clad hand still clasped in yours as you stared at the raindrops on your window.

"We're here." Eddie said softly, turning off the engine, and you turned your head to look at him, a smile still on your face. "I had a lot of fun today."

You chuckled, looking down at the hand that was intertwined with his. "Me too. I don't think I've ever had this much fun."

"Somehow, I still can't believe that you agreed to go out with me."

"Are you kidding me?" You chuckled, "Eddie, I still can't believe that you asked me out."

"Is it weird that I want to go on a hundred more?"

"You know, I think there's a word for that. Or, like a word for the person you keep doing that with."

"Oh, is there?" He said, furrowing his brows, "I have no idea what it could be."

You laughed, shaking your head before looking down at your watch. "I should go in. I have a lot of history homework to catch up on."

"Well, even great days have to come to an end." He chuckled, letting go of your hand. You felt a shiver go down your spine, already having forgotten how your hand felt without his. How empty it was. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"See you on Monday."

As you got out of his van, walking closer to your door as you felt the rain on your skin, you thought back to everything that happened that day. How every word he had said felt brand new when they left his lips, how comforting his hand felt in yours, how every smile he offered was the only thing you could see. How badly you had wanted to kissed him in the diner before the waitress brought your food.

You paused in front of your front door, digging through your bag for your keys with a wide smile on your face, even the thought of Eddie causing blood to rush to your cheeks.

As you were twisting the key in the lock, you heard something behind you.

"Wait!"

You let go of the key, turning to see Eddie rushing to you, a determined look on his face as he stopped in front of you.

"I'm gonna feel like the dumbest person ever if I don't do this."

And as soon as he got done saying it, you felt his ringed hands on your face as he turned your face up to look at his, your skin feeling like it was burning under his touch, the boy bowing his head slightly as he bent down.

When you felt his lips on yours, it felt like the opposite poles of a magnet finally connecting. The porch light above you flickered as he moved his lips in sync with yours. His curls felt damp against your fingers, and you leaned into his touch, feeling like you were going to drown if you ever let go of him.

You had no idea how long he had been kissing you, but once he pulled away, your lips felt like they were burning, and you were completely out of breath, Eddie looking down at you with a dazed look on his face.

"Will you go out on a hundred more dates with me?" He asked, in-between breaths.

"I'll go on a thousand more dates as long as they're with you."