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aphroditesmoon · 4 months

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lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader

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leeknowsnot · 8 months

Text

kinktober — the god of love (minho)

genre: smut (minors dni), fluff

content: minho x reader, god of love minho au, reader is a hopeless romantic because i am too, greek god themes, he is eros the god of love, modernized greek gods, body worship, vanilla, just pure love, mature themes, mention of p-rn

oh my god, this is my first smut on this page. i hope i did okay though, it's been a long while since i wrote smut. anyway, i'll try starting on the others soon! read at your own risk

kinktober masterlist

Piles of paperwork laid before him. His eyes scrutinized every paper, dreading the sight of the amount of work he'd have to do. What was he doing here anyway? Right. He was called in for some extra work because the amount of stuff that the employees under him had to do was overwhelming.

Piles and piles of paperwork. "Over what?" his colleague would ask him and he would roll his eyes.

"Some dumbass woman who can't stop falling in love and getting heartbroken over every goddamn man," he would complain.

For Minho, being the God of Love wasn't all arrows and rainbows. Oh look, a girl crushing on a guy. Let's shoot an arrow to his chest so he could fall in love with her too! No. He wasn't highschool cupid. It wasn't as easy as that, unlike what most people would actually think. If he was going to be honest, there wasn't much field work to begin with. The only field work he'd do is to sit on his chair, observing people as they fall in love with each other, only to deal with multiple paperwork as soon as couples start falling out and breaking up with each other. He hated how people treated love as if it was something so dispensable. Like a one-time thing. Well, mostly because it gave him so much work to deal with.

And you, on the other hand, was one of those types that he hated the most: a hopeless romantic. He never really believed in hoping for love despite being the God of Love himself. Stop falling in love multiple times in a year. He always wanted to drill that into your brain each time he'd come down from HQ to observe you and your stupid attempts at pursuing whoever you were onto at the moment. He would lie if he said he never cringed everytime you'd blush at the smallest things. He was annoyed at how you always fell so hard over the bare minimum.

He types away angrily at his keyboard, cursing under his breath. "12th time this fucking year. I swear, if that shithead falls in love with the wrong guy again, I'm gonna shoot myself."

His fingers stop typing, eyes staring into the screen as his eyebrows rest on a permanent scowl on his face. He stared at your image through the documents, analyzing every feature on your face. He wouldn't deny the fact that you were attractive in a way, which made him wonder for a moment why you'd always fail at your attempts on finding love.

Minho sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before he stands up from his seat. "Better pay her a short visit. I need some amusement after all that headache she's been giving me," he mutters to himself.

...

Minho sat there, eyebrows raised. You weren't the type to wear revealing dresses and yet here you were, a scissor away from being practically naked. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating since you only opted to expose your shoulders but you never really showed much skin before. Each time Minho would drop by secretly to observe you during your dates to see if they'd finally succeed, you were either wearing cute floral dresses, or anything that was wholesome. But then again, he had to remind himself where he had to go just to check on you.

A nightclub.

In all honesty, some shoulderless blouse was just the tip of the iceberg compared to how the others dressed. Some were practically naked but Minho didn't pay much attention to them. His eyes were focused on eyeing you at the other side of the room, through grinding bodies.

Though, his gaze on your faltered as soon as a woman sat beside him, brushing her arm on his that was rested on top of the counter. "Hey there, pretty boy," the woman winked at him.

Minho wanted to puke then and there and his expression said it all. He eyed the woman from head to toe, immediately disgusted at her mere presence. He brought his eyes back to you but as soon as he did so, he saw you swaying by the dancefloor with some guy.

Now, Minho wasn't the type to be fazed by such a sight, but the way the man roamed his hands around your torso and attempted to grind his hips towards yours slightly annoyed Minho. Especially with how your face would contort and twitch in discomfort. You were trying your best to hide it and make light of the situation but Minho knew better than to not notice.

He stood up from his seat, tossing all reasoning aside and decided to pull you out of whatever shit you had gotten yourself into just so you could get yourself a lover. "To hell with that," he thought. You were looking for love at the wrong place. The worst place, in fact.

As soon as he arrived at your spot, he grabbed your wrist, earning a surprised yelp from you. He didn't look at you but at the man who was already 5 seconds away from zipping off his pants. Minho was glaring. "Keep your hands and your dick to yourself, yeah?" he tells off the man, earning himself a drunk response but all noise had been shut out and the fucks he could give was thrown out the window the moment he turned to you. "What were you trying to get yourself into, you idiot?"

Minho forgot that he was the only one who knew you like the back of his hand at this point. He was basically a stranger to you. But as he looked into your eyes, you lost yourself in them. His voice came out as muffled due to the trance you were in from the alcohol you just had earlier. And Minho noticed this so he snapped into your face but to no avail.

He dragged you out of the club and you could swear the door that was supposed to lead outside the streets led to somewhere else when Minho opened it but you decided that it was your mind and the alcohol playing its tricks on you. Minho brought you to his office through the club's door—an ability that always proved to be handy. He made you sit on his couch, giving you a glass of water.

"Drink that. It'll help with the hangover," he says. He never had hangover before since human liquor never really had much of an effect for him and the other Gods but he saw how bad humans had it each time they'd have hangovers. "How many glasses did you have anyway," he mumbles under his breath, not particularly expecting you to hear or respond.

His hand bring itself up to your face as he holds a towel, wiping off your sweat. "You suck at taking care of yourself. You always put those idiots first before yourself, that's why you're always getting rejected," he mumbles again, an annoyed expression now on his face. However, his expression turns into confusion as soon as he sees you squint your eyes at him.

"You... look familiar," you say, a hiccup following your sentence as you try your best to dig your memories through your drunken stupor.

Minho shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous. No one looks like me," he says but you suck air between your teeth.

"No, I swear I've seen you somewhere," you dazingly tapped on your temple before your eyes widen in realization and you point at him. "Oh, I remember now! I see you a lot of times whenever I..." you trail off your sentence. You gasp. "You're always around whenever I meet guys for dates! Are you perhaps, my stalker?"

This earned you a light slap on the forehead from Minho.

"You didn't have to hit my head!" you pouted at him.

"Stop pouting, you look ugly," he says as he removes your shoes. "I wasn't stalking you."

You squint your eyes again at him. Both at his answer and as to why he was removing your shoes. "Then what were you doing? And what are you doing?"

Minho glances up at you with a look of disbelief. "Removing your shoes, if that's not obvious enough," he turns back to removing your other shoe. "I thought you were dumb only with love. You're dumb with telling actions too."

You frown, "Why are you even removing my shoes?! Put them back on??"

"For the record, you are not Cinderella. And you'd rather I let you get blisters? Why did you even wear heels? You never wore heels," he whispers the last part. You blink.

"You are my stalker," you gasp, earning another glare from Minho.

As he finished removing your shoes, he plops himself back down beside you. "I was observing you," he says, answering your question.

"Yeah, you were stalking me," you butt in.

"Stalking is different from observing. Get your facts right," he argues back.

'This man,' you thought to yourself as you look at him in disbelief. Though despite his sarcastic remarks, you could feel as if you knew him for a long time already. Or maybe because you'd see him a lot everywhere. You always thought it was coincidence.

"Why were you observing me?" you ask him.

Minho sighs, rubbing his face with a hand as he looks at you, probably being annoyed at how much you were asking him. "Entertainment. Your idiocy amuses me," he sarcastically replies.

You were speechless.

First, this man ruins your date. Your chances of getting laid tonight. You didn't mind if it was drunk sex, as long as it was sex, that was how hopeless you were. Second, he denies being your stalker. Third, he was mocking your poor taste in men and bad luck in love. And lastly, he was telling you that you were basically a no go because you were an idiot.

"I can't believe this," you scoff under your breath. "You ruined my chances for... this."

Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Chances at what."

You roll your eyes at him. "Getting laid."

Minho stares at you for a while before sighing. You were such a piece of work. On second thought, he'd rather deal with paperwork than your attitude. He shakes his head in hopelessness, eyes still at you.

"You were going to settle with drunk sex?" he asked with a tone of as-a-matter-of-fact. When you nodded, he chuckled in disbelief.

"Well, what do you want me to do then?" you snapped your head at him. "I always fail at romance. I try to establish wholesome relationships but they... They just fail. And this..." you pause. "It may not be the best option, but it's my only chance of actually getting a guy."

Minho was amused at how emotional you were getting. He could see the tears forming in your eyes as you explain. Sure, Minho was getting frustrated over this ordeal, but you were too and he just realized that. If he was getting annoyed over paperwork, then it meant people were hurting too. You were hurting too.

For some reason, Minho disliked that idea. For the longest time, he'd see the brightest smiles on your face each time you fell in love or experienced something akin to love. He thought it was only for work that he'd come down to observe you each time you go on dates. But in truth, he liked seeing you smile. He didn't know how or when it started. He just... liked to see your face brighten up.

Maybe he wasn't annoyed at you because you always fell in love and get broken and give him more paperwork. Maybe he was annoyed at the fact that people kept on hurting you. He was annoyed at the fact that guys always took advantage of your love. He was annoyed at the fact that you always gave it your all to guys who didn't deserve any of your love. He was annoyed at himself for seeing it otherwise.

Minho chuckles, more at himself than at you. "That's such a sad excuse to find love, it's pathetic."

You turned your head towards him, about to retort but you shut yourself up as soon as he brought his face close to yours. Your eyes widened. "What—"

"You're pathetic," he mumbles. "I can't believe you're going to settle with just that." Then, he closes the gap between you two. His lips touched yours momentarily, brushing like a feather before diving deep. For a second, it was as if your world stopped. You may have had failed attempts at love but that doesn't mean you never had kisses. Though, most of them were empty. In fact, you've had too many kisses to the point that you had to think to yourself if you'll only get kisses for the rest of your life.

But this. This was... You couldn't put the right words. No, that was the perfect word for it. Right. It felt so... right.

The kiss felt too short as soon as he pulled away, eyes staring into yours. You could swear you could see the whole universe in them. You barely talked to this man for more than an hour and yet you feel like you've known him forever.

Minho's eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. He has always seen you. How you look. How you dressed. How you spoke. But he has never seen you this close. And now that he has, it was as if he was looking at Zeus' finest piece of art. Your beauty held more charm than Aphrodite herself. Hell, you'd start more wars than Helen of Troy ever did with that pretty little face of yours.

He parts his lips, his warm breath adding fuel to the warmth that had now spread on your blushing face. "In all of my decades, observing your kind and mine," he pauses. "I have never met anyone as beautiful as you."

"I wonder which God sculpted you," he mutters under his breath, eyes bearing themselves into yours. "Those eyes. They're like Narcissus. I could get lost just by staring at them."

He placed another kiss on your lips, this time much softer than the last.

"Those men are fools," he says. "They could never see true beauty. Beauty that has so willingly presented itself before them."

It was as if he had fallen right then and there. The irony of being the God of Love was that he barely fell in love himself. But when he does, he falls deep. Turns into such poet. Just as how he was letting himself become vulnerable before you.

He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect pieces of a puzzle. You were entranced. You didn't know how or why. But the way his hand would graze on your skin felt like electricity. The good kind where the hair on your back would stand each time you'd feel warm air breeze through while you are cold. Like goosebumps.

You wondered if there was something in that water that he had given you earlier. Aphrodisiac? No. There was nothing in there. And yet you felt so entranced. So pulled in. So dazed. You had never felt this feeling before from your past lovers. Then again, were those even love? Or just infatuation? Was it the true definition of love, or was this the true definition of love? Maybe it was just the effect of having the God of Love himself being so close to you. But you were none the wiser of his identity as a God. And yet he pulled you in like gravity.

His lips placed a chaste kiss on your lips once more, gradually travelling towards your cheek, your jawline, and your neck. They were slow yet passionate. His hands ran up your arms, holding your shoulder as he carefully lays you on the couch so you'd feel comfortable.

Minho looks at you once more. "Will you let me show you what love is?" he asks with a quiet tone. You stare at him for a short while, with him still placing soft kisses on your neck as he waits for your response. Eventually, you nod.

He hums quietly in satisfaction. "Just follow my lead," he says.

You don't know what happened after that. You only remember his occasional glances. His chaste kisses on your skin. His hands caressing everywhere they could land on, memorizing your every curve. You only remember laying there, naked.

His gaze on you never faltered. His eyes memorized every feature, taking in every imperfection that you had. As a God, he was but used to seeing only the perfect complexions. But with your body, the imperfections were what made you more beautiful in his eyes.

Minho leans down towards you, brushing the back of his fingers on your cheek softly. He held you as if you were porcelain. No rough movements. No raspy caresses. "Stop looking for love," he muses. "Because love himself is presenting itself to you." He takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles. "Love itself is yours to take."

You part your lips with a soft gasp. No one, not even one man has ever told you such words. No one, not even one man has ever seen you this naked. No one, not even one man has ever held you as much as this man did. And he was worshipping you with both his words, his kisses, and his touches.

His hand pulled you closer for another kiss before caressing down your body, eventually resting itself on your thigh. His thumb brushes on your skin before travelling towards your inner thigh. His finger lingers too close to your core. Not touching, but you could feel it. Minho smiles at your reaction, chuckling as he finally runs a digit through your folds.

You lightly gasp, biting your lower lip to immediately stop yourself from letting out a sound. He looks up at you, amused by your sensitivity. You couldn't blame him. After all, you were a virgin. Both by touch and by intercourse. He could immediately tell as he continued running his finger through your heat, dragging through every slick as a string of your love juice connects your nub and the tip of his finger with every slow stroke. He traces small circles around your clit, earning a shivery hum from you as you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

You hated how slow he was teasing you. Minho, however, was loving every second of it. How red your cheeks were right now. How half-lidded your eyes were. How wet you already were with just a few kisses and a few strokes.

He leans towards your chest, taking out his tongue to gently brush on one of your nipples, making you twitch. "You're quite easy to please," he mutters as he flicks his tongue and sucks lightly on your nipple. "But then again... You are a virgin."

This made your eyes widen. You tilted your head to the side, covering your face with embarrassment. You hear Minho chuckle before he takes your wrists, removing your hands from your face. "Shhh, it's okay." he whispers in your ear. He places a quiet kiss on your ear lobe. He faces you again. "At least you didn't get to experience how horrible and selfish those men are when it comes to making love."

His smile falters. "No. They don't call it making love, do they?" his eyes trail down to your stomach, bringing himself down so he could place kisses and kitten licks on your skin. "I believe most of them like calling it casual sex."

"Bastards," he curses under his breath before lowering himself again, this time being face-to-face with your heat. You embarrassingly closed your legs, momentarily making him react as your thighs envelope his head. He looks up at you with an amused smirk. "Guess you're into that, huh?" he mumbles with a husky tone before finally leaning in.

You could swear you momentarily saw stars as soon as his warm, wet tongue ran through your folds. His breath would always exhale each time he would swirl his tongue around your clit, slurping occasionally from his makeshift chalice.

You were sweeter than ambrosia and nectar, and he couldn't have enough. You were a walking cardinal sin, ready to prey on a God, to tempt him to indulge in such temptation. And that God was him. Except that you weren't tempting him, but it was him who willingly walked into your trap without any provocation.

The God of Love, enchanted by a human being. By you.

As his sucks and licks increased their pace, so did your stiffled moans. "Don't keep your moans to yourself," he says. "I'd love some good music." He stuck his tongue inside of you, exploring every crevice of your walls as much as he could while his teeth would occasionally scrape lightly through your clit. When you finally moan out loud unintentionally, he smiles. "That's it. Let me hear your pretty voice."

Every second that he spent worshipping you with his tongue brought you closer to something. You were already way past from what you used to consider as climax from your self-ministrations but this was something else. Something higher. Something more pleasurable.

You subconsciously grabbed his head, pulling his head closer. Minho's eyes widen a bit, surprised at your action but complies anyway. He smirks, tongue lapping you up faster as his mouth starts making the most sinful sounds as he sucks you in his mouth. He holds both your legs, determined to make you see a taste of heaven just as much as how he was tasting his own version of heaven through you.

As he gives you a long, dragging suck with the swirling of his tongue on your clit, it finally brings you to the edge. Your eyes shut tight, mouth hung open, and back arched as you cry out in pleasure. Your legs shake as they attempt to wiggle out from his grasps but his hold was strong, keeping you in place as he continues to suck on you, giving you overstimulation as you ride your first high.

He eventually lets you recover as you pant, now hovering above you as he licks away the remaining juices off his lips as if it was syrup. His eyes observe you, loving how helpless you looked as you tried to catch your breath from just a single climax, and just with a simple oral too. Minho brushes off a stray hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear as he places a kiss on your forehead.

"Well?" he asks. "It's good, isn't it?" You were too out of it to even answer. No one could blame you, the first orgasm—whether it was oral or not—was always the most mind-blowing. Too mind-blowing it turned you speechless in a matter of minutes. "That guy you were dancing with wouldn't even give a single fuck whether you'd cum or not," he says. "He'd only want to put his sad excuse of a dick inside that pretty little mouth and call it a day."

Minho places a soft kiss on your lips. "Human men won't care for you as much as Love himself would," he pauses. "Because they do not know love. They only know Lust."

He gently opens your legs, zipping down his own pants in the process. "Let me make love to you," Minho says, caressing your thighs as he raises them. He places kisses on your legs. When you finally recover from your trance, you glance at him. He was now as naked as you were but you could swear you were laying your eyes upon a God. And you really were.

He was perfect regardless wherever you would lay your eyes upon. Especially his arms. God, his arms were like nothing you have ever seen and yet they held you with such care. He could flail you around like a ragdoll, just like what most men would do in those porn videos you'd watch each time you felt a little lonely. But no, he held you as if you were a priceless vase. He'd trace your body as if it was some rare artwork to revel on at a museum. He'd draw you in his head like you were one of his French girls. Except that he didn't have any of those. You were the only girl that made a significance within his eyes.

You finally gave in, tossing all reason aside. If this was going to be your final chance at love, you prayed. Then you might as well let it happen.

Your tongues danced within a kiss, intertwining with each other both emotionally and physically. He clung unto you and you clung unto him, bodies pressing into each other as your sweat would momentarily stick each time Minho would close the proximity between you two. His thrusts started as slow yet passionate strokes, your velvety walls hugging around him as you moan in between gaps of your sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your waist, resting by your hips as he grips them only to pull you back towards him so you'd meet his thrusts.

He wasn't ruthless. He wasn't in a rush. He wasn't destroying you. And just like he said, he wasn't just giving you sex. He was making love with you. His slow thrust eventually increase its pace, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix at each thrust. The sinful sound of skins slapping fill the walls of his office, mixed in by both your moans. He would always place wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and latch his lips on your nipple, never having enough of you as he drives deeper and deeper into you.

If he could, he would bury himself into you. Get lost in pleasure with you. Stay inside you. If it meant showing you what love really was, he would do it. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body and his as your moans encouraged him to go even deeper. He couldn't get enough of the way you looked at him. How your lips would mouth incoherent words as he continues to savor the feeling of being inside you.

Soon enough, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around Minho's neck, pulling him closer as you yourself get closer to your own climax once more. He could feel you slowly tightening around him, a smirk finding its way on his lips.

"Cumming again?" he whispers, quiet groans lacing his question in between as he starts to thrust into you at a faster pace. You nod absentmindedly, eyes shut tight as you arch your back once more. He raises your legs, gaining more access to thrust deeper. "Deeper," he mumbles. "A little more."

With each thrust, his cock reached deeper depths that you didn't know were reachable. It sent you on edge. With his one final thrust, he finally hits that button needed for you to snap, making you moan out loud. The way you suddenly clenched around him as he was buried deep inside you made him reach his own climax as well, painting your walls with his own release. "Cumming cumming cumming!" you mutter, hands gripping on his arms as his groans muffle themselves in your neck.

You both laid there, gasping for air in each other's arms, savoring each other's warmth before Minho finally raises his head from your neck and looks at you. His face held the most loving and softest expression. He was smiling at your dazed state.

He places a kiss on your forehead. On your nose. And on your lips before looking into your half-lidded eyes. "I'll be back soon," he says. He said something else after that but you were too exhausted to even remember as your eyes finally closed, sending you into a state of rest.

...

You awoke with a jolt as you shot up from your bed, eyes open wide as you pant. You glanced around, immediately recognizing your surroundings as your bedroom. You frown to yourself, glancing down beneath the blanket.

What the hell happened? you asked yourself. You weren't exactly sure. You remembered being in a bar to meet up with that tinder date you have been crushing on since last week but after that, you passed out—probably from alcohol and now here you were, confused.

You wondered how you got home in the first place.

And that dream, you sighed to yourself, feeling your core wet from whatever dream you had. You shook your head, a palm running through your face as you groan in frustration.

"I can't believe I was so desperate to the point I'd dream of making love with someone," you roll your eyes at yourself as you throw yourself back on the bed again. This time, hugging your pillow and your curiosity piqued at your dream. "Whoever that guy was in my dream was really attractive though," you mutter to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho observed you through the window of your room from far a way, chuckling. He observes your pretty features first before finally turning around.

He'll remain in your dreams for now. After all, that was how Greek Gods would visit their human love affairs—through dreams. Though this time, he'd visit your dreams frequently.

Maybe because he wants less paperwork from you. Maybe because he wants you to pine for him more than the men you'd meet.

Eitherway, he can't wait until he visits you the next time you close your eyes again.

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

SINGING LOW (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, angst, fluff, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.7k (teaser) 13k (full fic)

FULL FIC HERE

Or you can check it out on my ko-fi today by subscribing here and going on the fic here

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 also i decided to open a ko-fi!! (stop booing me pls T-T) here's a link to the details! anyways hope u enjoy this ive been thinking of this trope for a while <33

masterlist

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their newest comeback, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first few years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until a few years into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenario #mingyu smut

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munson-blurbs · 3 months

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie lowered his guard during a late night conversation, revealing crucial details about his past. But was it enough for you to reciprocate? (4.3k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, brief mention of neglect, brief mention of sex work, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine

If convincing Eddie to take the job wasn’t enough of a struggle, you still had to explain the situation to your parents.

Hi Mom and Dad, I invited a guest to help fix up the motel. The same one who stole a blanket–but don’t worry, I got it back. Oh, and he’ll be staying here for free.

They were understandably taken aback by your decision, especially without consulting them first, but you’d mustered up a strong argument: Eddie was young, he was easy to get along with, and he showed a basic sense of personal responsibility. Not to mention that the place could certainly use the repairs; peeling wallpaper was just the tip of the iceberg. Lightbulbs needed to be replaced, carpets needed to be scrubbed, and the outside of the building desperately needed to be power washed.

“Plus, summer break doesn’t start for another few weeks,” you hastily added. “We won’t need to worry about renting out Eddie’s room until then.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at the newfound ascription—not room four, but Eddie’s room—but said nothing, only looking at your father for his seal of approval.

He breathed out, long and low, trying to do the calculations in his head. Your heart flip-flopped when his gaze dropped to the ground, his signature move when he was about to tell you no.

“If he doesn’t help out, he can’t afford to stay here anyway. It’s not like we’re losing money if he keeps the room for a bit.” You winced at the slight whine in your voice, the opposite of the infallible exterior you’d wanted to present.

Dad laughed, not unkindly, but belittlement panged in your chest nonetheless. “Except for the water, air conditioning, and electricity he uses,” he pointed out, ticking off each item on his fingers. “Unless he plans to only sit in the dark, sweat, and never shower.” He sighed as unmistakable disappointment weaved into your eyes and filled them with tears.

Now you’d have to tell Eddie that the offer was off the table, that he was shit out of luck, that you’d let him down. You never should’ve opened your big mouth in the first place. Captain Save-the-World, except you only ever made things worse. If you wore a cape, it would get snagged on tree branches each time you tried to fly.

“You have a good heart,” Mom spoke up, trying to nurse your wounded feelings, “but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.” She glanced at Dad again, her mouth set in a straight line. “Maybe we can discuss this further.”

You fought to ignore the hope that bloomed from her words, but the corners of your mouth turned upwards before you could rein it in. “Thank you,” you murmured, offering them both a grateful smile.

People called you a ‘bleeding heart,’ teasing you about your constant attempts to solve problems beyond a reasonable scope. At last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, your uncle had informed you—unprompted—that he would never vote for you for President because “you’d just give all my money to the poor.”

While your parents were more realistic with their goals than you were, they did their best to encourage your compassionate spirit; there was no doubt that you got your sense of morality from them. After deliberating on Eddie’s fate for a few hours, they had finally relented—with one stipulation.

“Your mother and I are not going to supervise him, so he’ll have to work night shifts with you,” Dad had said sternly.

“Really?” You clapped your hands in celebration. “Thank you! I mean, um, Eddie thanks you.”

Dad gave your shoulders a quick squeeze; it was his version of you’re welcome. “Yeah, well.” He played it cool, keeping his tone breezy. “It’ll be good practice for when you take over the place.”

You’d nodded in response, your insides twisting in a clashing mix of excitement and shame. Eddie wouldn’t have to live on the street, but it required you to continue lying to your parents.

I’ll tell them the truth once Eddie finds a real job and gets his own place. I can only handle one crisis at a time.

That was how you’d found yourself spending your Tuesday evening with Eddie Munson. The motel was otherwise empty, save for your parents, a middle-aged trucker in room 7, and Phyllis in her usual digs.

You and Dad had spent the end of his shift covering the floor with giant flimsy drop cloths. They hadn’t been used in years, evidenced by the thin layer of dust that coated them when you’d dug them out from the back of the supply closet. You’d tried your best to shake it all off but instead sent yourself into a sneezing fit.

Eddie sauntered into the lobby at a quarter after ten. Gray sweatpants sagged at his waist, the drawstring noticeably missing from the elastic band, and his white cotton undershirt had a tan stain that spread across his left pec.

“Coffee,” he explained with a shrug, rolling a hair tie off of his wrist and pulling his curls into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He looked at you blankly and waited for you to instruct him, but you had already dove into your schoolwork. “Um, is there a ladder? Tools?” He pursed his lips and scanned the room with indifference.

“Oh! Right, yeah.” You could have smacked yourself for not having everything set up for him. “We don’t have a ladder per se, but this step stool should work fine.” You pulled it out from behind the desk along with a scoring tool, a spray bottle filled with a vinegar and water solution, and a putty knife. “I also grabbed the clock radio from my room if you wanted to listen to some music. Might help pass the time.”

Eddie nodded, watching carefully as you switched the radio on and tuned the dial to a Top 40 station. He shook his head the moment the electric beat of Haddaway’s “What is Love” played through the tinny speakers.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a scoff, dropping the supplies right where he stood, footsteps heavy even with the cloth underneath him. Without another word, he spun the knob past the static until the sound of an electric guitar crackled through. He bobbed his head a few times, finding the rhythm. “This’ll do.”

“Not a Eurodance fan?”

His back was turned to you as he returned to the task at hand which left him unable to see the sarcastic smirk you sported. “Fuck no.” He stepped up on the tool and began cutting into the old wallpaper, puffing out an irritated laugh. “I can’t believe—scratch—you voluntarily—scratch—listen to that–scratch–shit.” His biceps flexed with each flick of the blade in a consistent rhythm.

Drumming your fingernails on the desk, you twirled your pen in your free hand as you reread your own handwriting. You’d stayed at the library and filled notebook pages with bullet points about early childhood development until a squirrely librarian kicked you out at closing time. The choppy sentence fragments begged to be fleshed out into a fully-formed essay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus.

Write words. Make edits. Add a comma. Do something, anything, dammit.

Almost an hour passed without you making an iota of progress on your paper. The words swam on the page until they just looked like inky squiggles with no real meaning, your brain blank as if you’d never written anything in your life. Cool air tickled your nose as you exhaled through your lips. Why couldn’t you just concentrate?

“It’s this music,” you muttered to yourself, too low for your company to hear. Your temples throbbed with frustration, and you reached over and snapped back to the previous station.

Eddie’s head whipped around at the sudden change, frowning when he heard pop music instead of the metal that had just been playing. “Seriously?” He leaned one hand on the wall and threw the other up in exasperation.

“Yes, seriously,” you bit back, teeth clenched in annoyance. “I can’t focus on my writing with that on.”

Eddie grumbled something unintelligible but went back to work, the scratching serving as a strange backdrop to the song.

Janet Jackson faded out to a too-chipper deejay. “You folks know what time it is!” His voice reminded you of old-school toothpaste commercials, over-exaggerated and unnaturally polished. “That’s right; it’s time for Rad or Retch—where I play a song from a new artist, and you call in and let me know whether you think it’s rad or if it makes you wanna retch!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, adding an exasperated “Jesus H. Christ,” under his breath.

“This one’s called ‘Watch Me Leave’ by Death’s Echo, a grunge group from—”

The announcement came to an abrupt end as Eddie nearly leaped from the stool to the desk and yanked the plug out of its socket. The two-pronged head hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Hey!” Your eyes widened in confusion and then disbelief, flickering over to where he stood. You expected him to wear a scowl that matched your own; instead, he looked like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, and you took a step back. “Whoa, you okay?”

Eddie tensed the moment he detected your sympathetic tone, shoulders pinched and jaw rigid. “‘M fine.” He pressed the heel of his left hand atop his right knuckles until they cracked. “Sorry.” He bent down and gently plugged the cord back into the wall, but you immediately flicked the power button to the off-position.

It was silent for a full minute, save for the scorer against the wall and the scratch of pen on paper. When Eddie finally spoke, his voice was so soft that you barely heard it.

“That was my band.”

Confusion creased your brows. You set down your pen and stole a glance at him. His body remained facing the wall, but he was no longer working, hands lamely at his sides. “What?”

“Death’s Echo was, uh,” he shook a rogue curl from his eyes, “that was my band.”

“Oh.” Awkwardness seeped into the room and filled every crevice as you wracked your brain for a suitable response. “But…not anymore?”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Nope.” The p sound popped softly as though signaling the discussion’s end, but there was a pregnant pause before he started removing the wallpaper again.

“Why not?” The question sprang from your tongue, curiosity getting the best of you.

A hesitant chuckle accompanied his sigh. “I thought you didn't make small talk with strangers.” He climbed back on the step stool and ripped off a strip of paper.

“I thought we weren’t strangers anymore,” you quipped back, not missing the smile that ghosted his lips.

“Fair enough.” Eddie conceded easily, not at all angry to be proven wrong. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared up at the yellow-tinged lighting overhead before slicing into the wallpaper. “Sometimes you think you want something, but it turns out to be a steaming pile of horseshit.” The last word was punctuated by a grunt, and the last panel of wallpaper fluttered to the ground. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell.”

You nodded in agreement despite an obvious lack of knowledge.

“They sign your band,” he continued, aiming the spray bottle nozzle at the wall and pulling the trigger, “and you think it’s because they like you. Or at least your music, your sound, whatever.” He wrinkled his nose as he got an unexpected whiff of the vinegar solution’s pungency. “But you’re really just a front for whatever they want to sell. Which, apparently, is grunge.”

You had too many questions. They probably referred to record producers or agents or some other bigwigs, you surmised, but what did they do that made Eddie so cynical?

That was far too loaded to ask, at least in that moment, so you opted for a more humorous follow-up. “You mean it wasn’t all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll?” you joked, but Eddie didn’t share in your lightheartedness.

“At the beginning, when we first got signed, yeah.” His brown eyes exuded wistfulness, remembrance of better times. He blinked twice and snapped himself out of it. “We put out a few albums that didn’t completely flop, I guess. And we were the opening act on a couple of tours. Got a good chunk of money in the bank.”

That explained the Calvin Klein underwear he was wearing on that first night. You capped your pen and leaned in, trying not to be overly inquisitive but unable to contain yourself. “So…what happened?” What led you here?

“We get called into a meeting, and we’re all thinking that the label’s gonna tell us we’re headlining, right? Maybe not, like, The Garden, but bigger venues than we usually played. But, uh…” he trailed off and rubbed the tip of his nose with an open palm, “it was an ultimatum: shift from metal to grunge, or get dropped.”

You listened intently as Eddie relayed the ordeal. The label executives had cited the increasing popularity of Nirvana and Pearl Jam along with decreasing interest in heavy metal bands. “Cobain’s selling; Ozzy isn’t,” they’d explained. If Death’s Echo wanted to play to packed arenas and have their music on mainstream radio, they had to adapt to the times.

“I told them we weren’t sellouts and to kiss my ass,” Eddie said to you, huffing out an annoyed breath. “But the rest of the band didn’t give a shit about that; if those suits told them to jump, they’d say ‘how high.’ So, I quit and waited for them to come crawling back.”

He didn’t elaborate after that. He didn’t need to. Because if they’d done as Eddie had hoped, he wouldn’t be performing manual labor just to live in a struggling motel, basking in the gloominess that he wore like a second skin.

“If you could go back and do it differently, would you?” You grimaced at your own intrusiveness. “Sorry, that was—”

“It’s fine.” Eddie didn’t give an answer right away, his teeth grating against his lower lip. “Y’know, I’d like to say no, but losing your record deal, your apartment, your girlfriend, your so-called ‘friends,’ and every nice thing you own can make a guy kinda cynical.”

Girlfriend?

It was far from the most dire item on that list, but it needled at you. Maybe it was the mental image of Eddie watching everything get taken from him and then adding heartbreak on top of it all.

“How about you?”

His voice yanked you from your thoughts and had your heart in your throat. “Huh?”

“You. Your whole deal.” He gestured at you with the scraper. “Why you’re always doing homework like a little nerd.” You couldn't detect a note of taunting in his teasing, only playfulness, just as it had been that very first night.

You scowled for only a second before a smile broke through. “Don’t you have wallpaper to remove?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh. “I see how it is: when it’s my shit, I’m free to talk. But when it’s your shit, I’m a lowly employee.” He held up both hands in mock surrender. “My deepest apologies, Heiress.”

You didn’t bother to argue, choosing instead to pivot to a new subject altogether. “How long does this take, anyway?” Walking out from behind the desk to inspect his work, you ran your finger down the wall. Once you got past the stench of vinegar, he was actually doing a pretty good job.

“You think you could do better?” He saw your gentle ribbing and upped the ante, holding out the putty scraper as if saying, be my guest.

Plucking it from his grasp, you smirked and chose a spot right at eye level. Challenge accepted.

Though the glue had softened considerably, removing it still required decent muscle. You put your bodyweight into it and pushed through the resistance, but you only managed to pull off a little bit.

You heard Eddie laugh through his nose as he stood behind you, watching you struggle. “Harder than it looks, huh?” He ignored your middle finger and stepped a half-inch closer. “Let me help.”

One calloused hand dwarfed yours, his fingers wrapping around where your fist held the scraper. The other found purchase on the bicep of your free arm where your T-shirt’s cuff met skin, stabilizing without entrapping you. You could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted.

You stayed there.

He tightened his grip around yours and made short, downward strokes, admittedly taking off far more glue than you had. “There ya go,” he murmured. His breath was warm on your neck, gooseflesh rising when he spoke. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just like that.”

Butterflies beat their wings in your stomach, a result of the unexpected proximity compounded by an unmet need for connection that starkly contrasted the night shift’s normal solitude. A loose tendril of his hair tickled against your ear, and the realization of how close your bodies actually were shattered whatever spell had been cast.

Eddie pulled away quickly, the air cooling where his hand once rested. Did he also feel that sudden loss of contact, or was it all in your head?

With a shaky breath, you stepped aside and silently returned the tool to him. “Should probably leave this to the expert,” you muttered, forcing nervous laughter. “I have to get back to writing anyway.”

His eyes bored into you as you walked back to the desk, but neither of you said another word. You glanced over at him every so often, noting the perspiration dampening his collar and under his arms as he toiled away at the glue and wished you had a water bottle to offer him.

Maybe next time.

You got halfway through the first body paragraph when Eddie spoke again.

“You’re really not gonna talk?”

You looked up to see him swipe his forearm along his brows as he shot you a tired grin.

“We just had a whole conversation,” you pointed out, returning your attention to your essay.

“About me,” he said. He wiped his palms on his pants, leaving behind a sweaty print, and traipsed over to you. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re either going to school or coming back from school or doing work for school…”

You shrugged, no big deal. “Okay, yeah, I go to school.”

“For what?”

Shit. “Hospitality and hotel management.”

“Really.” Eddie leaned over and snatched up your paper. You reached out to grab it back, but it was too late. The bridge of his nose scrunched as he read the opening paragraph to himself. “Doesn’t look like hospitality to me.” Amusement raised his brows. “Care to explain?”

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt strangely obligated. He’d confided in you, so you should at least moderately indulge him.

“Fine,” you relented, “I’m studying psychology.” That might have been the first time you’d ever said those words aloud in the motel lobby; it was oddly freeing.

Eddie nodded and continued to scan the paper. “You wanna be a shrink?”

“Social worker.”

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough gig. Especially if you’re working with kids.” He shook the essay pages for emphasis.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right.” He shoved one hand in his pants pocket. “What made you decide to be a social worker?”

You breathed out a laugh. “You want the easy answer or the real one?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “Real one. Always.” He returned your essay and rested his un-pocketed hand on the desk. Inquiring eyes beckoned you to continue.

With less trepidation than you’d anticipated, you tell him the story of that fateful day in the summer of 1987, just two years after you’d graduated from high school.

You were still working the afternoon shift, and summer break brought its usual influx of guests. People came and went in blurs of luggage, but there was one particular patron who had made her presence known.

“Hi!”

You peered over the desk to find the source of the lively greeting. A young girl, no older than five, stared back at you, syrupy grape stickiness surrounding her lips. The cause was most likely a popsicle, as evidenced by the purple stained stick clenched in her right hand.

“Um, hi,” you said with a smile that was, for the first time in a long while, not encased in customer service insincerity. “What’s your name?” And where did you come from?

Unfazed by your bewilderment, she introduced herself as Izzy and asked you if you wanted to play. “We just have to stay here, or else my mommy will get mad,” she explained with urgency.

You nodded slowly, sorting through the information without raising any alarm. “And where is your mommy?”

Izzy’s hazel eyes darted back towards the hallway. “In our room. She’s with a friend so I can’t go in.” She dropped her voice to what she considered a whisper, but it was still clear as day. “Her friend is a boy.”

Your stomach turned. Of course. Instead of watching her child, this mother was probably shooting up with her boyfriend of the week.

“I can’t play right now, but you can sit here with me until your mommy and her friend come back out,” you said. “I have paper and pens if you wanna draw.”

This satisfied her, and she plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. That day hadn’t been particularly hectic, so you obliged and sat.

“What’re you gonna draw?” Izzy asked, reaching for a blue pen. You didn’t have time to answer before she proudly announced, “I’m gonna draw a flower. Do you like flowers?”

“Mhm.”

Izzy smiled as she surrounded a circle with swirling loops. “You can draw a flower, too. Maybe a rose. Or a sunflower!”

Her excitement at the latter option was all you needed. “Sunflower it is, Miss Izzy.” You drew a circle of your own and filled it with a cross-hatched pattern, curating pointed-tipped petals around it.

“D’you have crayons?” she asked, not looking up from her own flower.

You put down your pen and offered a pitying frown. “No, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. You should get some, though. ‘Cause you can draw prettier flowers with crayons.”

The two of you stayed on the floor for ten minutes. All the while, she quizzed you on your favorite color, animal, food, and TV show. She was halfway through a heated explanation of why Friend Bear was superior to Share Bear when a frantic voice called out her name.

“Mommy!” Izzy practically flew into her mother’s arms. You watched as the woman’s entire body sagged in relief, pulling her daughter in close. A man trailed behind her, discreetly zipping up his fly and walking out the front door.

“Izzy, I told you to sit in the hall and eat your ice pop,” her mom gently scolded, words muffled by her lips being pressed to Izzy’s scalp.

Izzy scrunched her nose in confusion. “But I finished it.” She pointed at the empty stick, now on the ground where she’d been sitting, as proof. In true childlike fashion, she jumped to a new topic without waiting for the first conversation to conclude. “Mommy, you wanna see what I drawed?”

“Of course, baby.” She easily feigned excitement as Izzy presented her with a series of scribbles that were meant to be various flowers, people, and farm animals. “Wow! I think you’re gonna be an artist one day.”

The little girl continued chatting, blissfully unaware of the panic she’d inadvertently caused. Her mom allowed herself to look away for just a moment to glance at you, mouthing a tiny “thank you” and blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“And…I don’t know,” you lamely supplied as you wrapped up the story. “I guess I realized that I had all of these assumptions, this sort of preconceived notion that this woman was a deadbeat parent, but she obviously loved Izzy more than anything.” You picked at your thumbnail nervously. “No one should have to sell their body for money just to survive. She deserved better than that.”

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything you’d thrown at him. “And you wanted to help her,” he finally said.

“Yeah.” You thought back to the way her gaze simultaneously held gratitude and guilt. Her daughter was safe, but she knew that this was not the final time she’d be in this predicament.

The experience had awakened a realization in you: working at the motel was never your dream, but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly. You weren’t left to navigate the world on your own. Independence was a privilege, not a mandate.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie broke in, “I think you’ll be a great social worker someday.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice and slipped back to the awaiting task; despite insisting that you talked to him while he worked, he hadn’t touched any of the tools while you spoke.

Your smile was a thank you, and you tuned the radio back to the metal station Eddie had chosen earlier. He didn’t say anything else, but you noted the subtle tap of his toe against the drop cloth.

Eddie worked for a few more hours until he’d stripped the wall of all paper and glue. “All right,” he said, balancing the step stool on two fingers. Sleepiness softened his own smile, all lips and no teeth. “Let me know when the new wallpaper comes in. You, uh, know where I live.”

“Will do.” Your thumb absently grazed against the words you’d just written, smudging them. You rubbed at the black ink seeping into your skin, silently chastising your own carelessness. “Good night, Eddie.”

He stretched and scratched at the U-neck of his collar, exposing a sliver of chest hair.

“Sweet dreams, Heiress.”

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 8 months

Text

Here, have a casual glimpse into my thought patterns and creative process:

*just scrolling about Tumblr and vibing to "Too Much Wine" by The Fratellis*

Too much wine?

Mihawk?

Mihawk drunk??

Wait wait wait WAIT what are they all like drunk?

GASP s h i n y h e a d c a n o n s

BLANK DOCUMENT HERE I FCKEN COME—

So anyway here's some headcanons about drinking too much (insert adult beverage of choice) with the OPLA boyos.

Implied that Reader is already in a relationship with each character in question.

I shall call it.......

HAMMERED

OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X AFAB!Reader

NSFW Headcanons

Kinda Kinktober I guess? Borderline shitpost, I had way too much fun with this.

♫♬♫ Too Much Wine - The Fratellis ♫♬♫

I'll take the mead from the table

Talk straight while I'm able

Until I'm nothin' less than a crime

Zoro

"Y'know, I actually have four swords, but we're gonna have to go somewhere more private if you wanna see the other one."

Rum, sake, beer, wine, whatever you're down for drinking so is he.

Zoro's got incredibly high endurance and stamina—it's going to take a while for him to show that it's affecting him at all, but once it does, he goes from zero to one hundred faster than you can say "onigiri."

Literally no in between, no tipsy or buzzed. Just sober and then stumbling over his own feet and swearing he absolutely is not drunk the whole time.

All those repressed emotions that he hides behind a mask of dry sarcasm on a day to day basis are coming out in full effect.

That means you're getting one of two Zoros—goofy Zoro or sad Zoro.

Goofy Zoro's going to have his arm around your shoulders, laughing his ass off about that time he caught that idiot Marine brat swinging his sword around bare-ass naked so he chopped off half his hair.

He's likely to get pretty flirty in this state, even downright playful, especially if you initiate it, and it's almost definitely going to end in him dragging you somewhere private to fuck your brains out, because his restraint is totally out the window at this point.

If you end up with sad Zoro, he'll be laying his head in your lap and slurringly asking whether or not you think he's ever really going to be the best swordsman in the world, probably still beating himself up over losing to Mihawk.

Just comb your fingers through his hair and do your best to reassure him that you love him and genuinely believe in him. Whether it works or not, he's going ti end up falling asleep in your lap, so be prepared to be stuck there for a while.

"But like...you really think, like, I can beat that bird-eyed bastard? I mean he fucked me up with a goddamn butterknife."

Sanji

"There we are—a beautiful drink for a beautiful woman."

Turbo Flirt Mode: activated.

Sanji is all for pairing wine with food, but if you're looking to get a little sideways, he's going to want to show off his mixology skills to impress you—and he's going to be making some dangerous concoctions, the kind that taste like there's not a drop of booze in them.

The more lit he gets, the less subtle the flirting. If you thought he was clingy sober, you are in for a surprise, because that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Head on your shoulder, puppy dog eyes, telling you how pretty you are and how much he adores you every thirty seconds, with a big silly grin like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

Brushing his lips along your neck and murmuring all the things he's going to do to you once the two of you are behind closed doors later—and he means every one of them, because you're utterly irresistible to him in this state.

He wants you giggling and blushing just as much as he wants you moaning and trembling under his touch.

Super playful once you are alone, even moreso than usual. He's definitely going to suggest doing body shots, he will beg if he has to, but honestly who in their right mind is going to turn him down?

"You're just...just so—so beautiful—honestly, it should be illegal."

Shanks

"Hold—hold my rum—no, no, just for a moment, I wanna see if I can do a backflip off the railing—"

Spoiler alert: he can't. Now he's lying on the quarterdeck alternating between hysterical laughter and "Oh God that hurt—"

Probably the most fun drunk in the world, but he can be a hazard to his own health as his judgement begins to lapse so someone's going to have to keep an eye on him.

If you're at a tavern or otherwise public location, do not under any circumstances let the man out of your sight for more than two seconds. He turns into a straight-up child, he can and will wander off, and you'll find him a mile away on top of a building, likely half-naked and singing sea shanties at the top of his lungs, with no clue as to how he got up there...or how to get back down.

He's developed quite a high tolerance over the years and tends mostly toward dark rum, though he won't turn down a stein of ale or beer.

Total life of the party energy—telling jokes and stories, he just wants to see everyone laughing and having the absolute best time.

Super, super flirty, he may as well have written the book on pick-up lines; and he doesn't care that you're already together, he's going to drop every single one of them on you just to see how much he can make you giggle or roll your eyes.

He's very likely to pull you onto his lap at some point and make out with you like no one's watching—he already doesn't really care who sees when you're both sober, but he really doesn't care after a little too much rum, so it's probably best to coax him to bed at this point.

He's perfectly happy with cuddling up, laying his head on your chest and draping his arm over you, just humming in contentment and falling asleep together...but if you want more, don't expect to get much sleep, because he wants you lasciviously.

To taste every inch of you, to suffocate between your thighs until you're screaming, to pull you onto his cock and watch you ride him until you're both too breathless and exhausted to do anything but tangle yourselves together in the sheets and drift off to sleep between slow, sensual kisses.

"Oh, princess, just when I catch my breath, you make me lose it all over again."

Mihawk

"If you insist on being such a brat about this, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Mihawk has a strong drive to be in total control of himself and everything happening around him at all times, which means he doesn't tend toward getting drunk.

But...he also has this wee little problem with his ego being larger than the entire volume of every combined ocean in the world. If you imply that you could drink him under the table...he's probably going to sneer and tell you to quit being a brat, but he's also going to be quite driven to prove you wrong.

He does love his wine, but it's generally only a glass or two to wind down and relax—he's definitely got a nice bottle of aged bourbon or eau de vie tucked away somewhere that's going to be coming out, because he's got something to prove now.

Unfortunately for him, due to the fact that he so rarely drinks heavily...he's a bit of a lightweight. Which he won't admit even to himself.

But it barely takes a single lowball of harder liquor to get that pale complexion of his a little flushed.

Perhaps just over three for him to start blinking a bit harder than normal in a futile attempt to get his vision to focus, to start speaking a bit slower to attempt to hide the slight slur in his words as you taunt him about it—which honestly only makes it more pronounced, and more amusing.

You had best enjoy it, because it's probably the only time you're going to hear the words, "Fine, you win," come out of his mouth—as well as perhaps the only time he won't be miffed about conceding. The alcohol in his system has him loosened up just enough that he can't pretend he doesn't find your boldness and sass at least a bit endearing...and even more alluring.

That being said, you're still getting punished for it, teased within an inch of your sanity, and he's going to enjoy every single second of it.

Setting his glass aside, plucking yours from your hand, pinning your hands above your head with a devilish smirk and slowly undressing you, his eyes on yours the entire time.

Trailing his fingertips across your bare skin, drawing closer and closer but never quite giving you want you want, his lips barely brushing against your neck, reminding you in an amused murmur in your ear that he could easily do this all night.

You did have the audacity to challenge him, after all—he has no choice but to remind you who's in charge.

"What is it, my little bird? Did you think you were going to get a consolation prize? You're still going to have to beg."

Buggy

"Bet you two thousand Berries I can shotgun two beers at once, watch this—"

And he basically ends up halfway drowning himself, but hey, you're two thousand Berries richer!

Honestly, there's no party like a Buggy party, because a Buggy party doesn't stop until someone loses a limb—probably him.

No, really. Don't let him use his devil fruit abilities. Keep a bucket of sea water on hand if you have to, because he may literally misplace one of his limbs and you're going to have to go on a Chop Chop Scavenger Hunt to help him find it while you're both completely smashed.

If Buggy's drinking, everybody's drinking, and everybody is getting completely fucked up. This is non-negotiable, he thrives on chaos and that's what he's intent on creating.

Anybody who passes out before him is getting something obscene drawn on their face in permanent ink. He can definitely hold his liquor, so if you can keep up with him then you can expect to be the last two living souls left conscious on the whole ship.

That being said, he doesn't care who's awake—things are going to get kinky, and he's really not bothered about anybody watching. Or joining in, for that matter. This whole operation very well may devolve into a drunken orgy if he has any say in the matter.

Then again, it may also devolve into him flopping dramatically across your lap and divulging absolutely all of his trauma in an emotionally-charged alcohol-induced rant. He won't remember it in the morning, so please do him a favor and don't remind him.

"Hey, uhh...I los—I lost my foot again. .....Sor—*hiccup* sorry."

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onlyfreds · 1 year

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Someday | E.M.

Title: Someday

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: A girl and an original, sounds like a fantasy, but nothing is impossible when it comes to love.

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I posted a fic, so hopefully this is half as decent as I hope it is and you guys like it

The story of a girl and her vampire: if any outsider were to hear the story, it would sound crazy, almost like some sort of fantasy.

Shutting the door of the taxi, you stepped out into the cobblestone streets and took a deep breath.

“Finally.” You thought, having achieved your lifelong dream of moving to New Orleans.

Lugging your suitcase behind you, you searched for the address of the place you’d be staying at.

–

“And here is your room.” Cami, a friend from high school who’d you be staying with gestured to the guest room next to her own room.

“Thanks Cami. You’re the best!” You smiled, proceeding to give the girl a hug, “I promise I’ll move out the minute I find a more affordable apartment.”

She laughed, “Nonsense, stay here as long as you like. Anyway, I have to go back to my shift at the bar now but when I close up, we can definitely go out for dinner.”

“Sounds great! I can also help out at the bar if you want.” You offered.

“Stop.” The blonde grinned, “You are my guest and you will do no such thing. Now go and unpack.”

“Fine. Fine.” You gave in with a playful eye roll.

–

“Does this place do deliveries? I don’t think I want to eat anywhere else ever again.” You took a sip of water making Cami laugh.

“I’m pretty sure they do.” She said as the waiter dropped off the bill.

While Cami was searching for her wallet in her bag, you pulled out some cash and hurriedly gave it to the waiter, “Take it before she finds hers.”

Realizing what had just happened, Cami gave you a pointed look, “Y/N.”

“Cami.” You mirrored her tone, giving her the same look, “It’s on me, I swear.”

“But-” She tried to protest.

“Shh.” You interrupted, “You’re already practically giving me a place to stay, provided that I pay for my share for the water and electricity bills. Ever since I have arrived, you have been nothing but incredibly generous to me. Let me do this.”

“Fine.” Cami gave in with a roll of her eyes, “But when you go to the bar, drinks are on me.”

This made you smile, “Now who am I to turn down free drinks?”

–

“Who are the Mikaelsons?” You asked after Cami had told you that you should come along to a party they were hosting that night.

“They’re the most influential family in Orleans.” She said, ruffling through her closet in search of something to wear, “The Mikaelsons are practically like royalty.”

You raised a brow in question, “So, they’re pretentious?”

“Not all of them.” Cami smiled, “Klaus is a little though, but the rest of them aren’t so.”

Laughing, you said, “Can’t wait to meet them. I don’t have a dress though.”

“There’s a boutique down the corner.” Cami said, “When can go take a look there if you want.”

–

Cami sure wasn’t joking when she said that the Mikaelsons were like royalty.

The compound you and Cami had just walked into was majestic and almost mansion-like. The lights that decorated the walls just seemed to make the place even bigger.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Cami said, noticing how awestruck and speechless you were.

“First thought that came into my mind was ‘you’re joking’. But, after seeing this, I think it's not entirely impossible.” You said.

“Camille! Glad to see you could make it.” A deep and husky voice boomed from the corridor as the owner approached the two of you.

“Klaus.” Your friend smiled, “Nice to see you too.”

“I see you’ve also brought a friend.” The man, or rather Klaus, mused before turning to you, “I’m sure that I’ve already been introduced by my entrance, so, may I know your name?”

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled.

“Niklaus.” A man in a suit came up next to Klaus, almost appearing out of thin air, “Are you causing someone an inconvenience again?”

Klaus dramatically gasped, now turning his attention to the man next to him, “I’m offended at how you think I bother everyone.”

“That seems to be the case, sometimes.” The man nods to Cami, “Camille.”

He then turns to you, a small smile growing on his handsome face while he reaches for your hand and brushes his lips against your knuckles, “And may I be able to put a name to that beautiful face?”

Giggling, you could feel the butterflies starting to stir, “I’m Y/N and you are?”

“Elijah.” He answered.

“So, Y/N. May I have this dance?” Elijah asked, offering a hand to you.

Glancing over at Cami, she gave a nod along with a subtle wink.

“I would love to.” You grinned, taking his hand and he led you away from your friend.

That was where it all started, with two lonely hearts beating in the dark.

–

“Your company has been the best I’ve had in a while.” Elijah smiled as the two of you stopped in front of Cami’s house. Cami had disappeared with Klaus leaving you to fend for yourself.

“Glad to have been of service then.” You laughed.

“Hopefully, this isn’t the last time I’ll be catching any sight of your captivating presence.” He said.

“I assure you, Elijah, you won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” You smiled.

The gentleman smiled as well, kissing along your knuckles the same way when you had first met earlier, “I’ll be counting on that.”

–

“I’m home!” It’s been a month since your arrival to New Orleans, finally having signed a lease for your own apartment, the only downside was the fact that you couldn’t move there for another month.

“So, how was your date?” Cami came into the living room as you were kicking off your shoes.

Rolling your eyes at her teasing, you retorted, “Cami, how many times do I have to tell you that it's’ not a date. Elijah and I just went to watch theater like friends do.”

“Yeah, friends do go to the theater but even a blind person could see how you and Elijah are a far cry from friends.” She said.

You went to the kitchen to get some water, “Touche, I can literally say the same about you and Klaus.”

Cami was immediately on your trail, “Klaus and I acknowledge our feelings. You and Elijah don’t. It seems like both of you have this intense fear of rejection. To be honest, the two of you would be a pretty amazing couple.”

“Is my crush on him that obvious?” You asked, leaning against the door of the fridge.

“Even someone who doesn’t believe in the concept of love could see it.” She confirmed, throwing a teasing smile.

“Oh my-” You groaned, “Then this means that he knows as well.”

Although Cami had been successful at holding back a laugh, a grin still appeared on her face as she fondly shook her head as a mother would, “You and him are the only people oblivious to each other’s feelings.”

“Whatever.” You felt the heat starting to take over your face, “I’m going out, we’re out of milk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Cami asked.

You started putting your shoes on, “No better time.”

–

For the past half hour, you couldn’t stop thinking about what your friend had said, could Elijah possibly bear the same feelings for you?

Strangely, the city sounds and the gravel crunching under your feet didn’t distract you at all. But you couldn’t shake off the strange feeling you had, almost like your gut was telling you that something is…eerie.

You could’ve sworn that someone had to be walking behind you but when you turned around, there was nothing but a gust of wind rattling the leaves.

Brushing it off as a figment of your imagination and the fact that it was almost midnight, you started on the way back home, how on earth did you think that a store would sell you some milk at this hour?

In an attempt to get rid of the chill that was running through your whole body, you tucked your hands into the pockets of your coat.

Then, under a split second, you were suddenly thrown against the wall - feeling a bit dizzy from the impact.

You kicked and tried to scratch the person but then the man holding you captive, grinned and flashed his fangs.

At first, you thought that you had gone mad. It was practically impossible for vampires to exist. Then the man’s eyes started to darken and the veins on his face became prominent as he said, “Guess I’m getting some dessert after all.”

Nothing prepared you for this moment, in school, they never exactly taught what to do in case you run across a vampire (who also happened to not actually exist in the first place).

As the sharp points of the fangs inched closer, you braced yourself for the worst, hoping that you would jolt awake in your bed and find out that this entire thing was just some nightmare.

The grip on your throat suddenly loosened as the man in front of you limply dropped to the ground.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” The husky voice of your savior pulled you out of your shock.

“Elijah?” If you thought that the prospect of vampires being real was enough of a surprise for a lifetime, wait till you are met with Elijah Mikaelson, seemingly wiping blood off his hands as a real heart lay discarded at his side while he asked if you were okay.

“Do you want me to walk you back to Cami’s?” He asked.

“Did you just…” You started feeling dizzy, feeling completely overwhelmed with everything to be processed in the last few minutes, “pull his heart out?”

He was rendered speechless, not actually expecting that you would ask this. After a moment of silence, he answered cautiously, “Yes.”

“H-how?” You asked, not really sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Elijah looked defeated as he offered a small smile, “Let me walk you back to Cami’s and I’ll explain everything once we get there.”

In an attempt to lighten some of the tension, you asked, “Promise you won’t bite?”

Elijah laughed, “Promise.”

–

It’s been two weeks since you were told of the grand secret of New Orleans: that werewolves, witches and vampires not only roamed the streets but were also practically like royalty and the Mikaelsons happened to be called the “Originals” which are the very first vampires ever.

It’s also been two weeks since you had last seen Elijah Mikaelson.

After doing everything, even dropping by the compound in desperate hopes that you would actually see him - it was almost like he was avoiding you.

Okay, he was actually avoiding you.

“Hello ‘Bekah.” You grinned as the blonde greeted you with a kiss to the cheek, ‘as the French do’.

“This is exciting! We haven’t gone shopping in ages.” She asked with a mirroring smile, looping her arm around yours almost dragging you to the shopping center.

–

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, did you and Elijah have a fight or something?” Rebekah asked out of the blue while browsing the dresses.

“No. Why?” You replied.

“The two of you just seem so awfully distant lately.” She said, “And Elijah’s been in some kind of somber mood, he practically just shuts himself in his room all day. It’s Klaus who normally does that.”

“He’s been avoiding me for two weeks, ever since the incident with a vampire.” You said.

She raised a brow in question, “What incident?”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” You then recounted how you discovered the secret that lies beneath the streets of New Orleans.

–

Taking a deep breath, your fist hung an inch away from the door to Elijah’s room. After telling Rebekah the whole story, she pestered (and almost dragged) you to go to Elijah and talk it out.

You were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Elijah Mikaelson stood there, in a white shirt and pyjama pants, looking very much surprised.

“Y-Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He asked once he had finally come around.

“I’m worried.” You admitted, “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks. I had no idea if something had happened to you or if you were mad at me or something.

“I’m a vampire, an Original vampire, for goodness sake.” Elijah said, “I’m a monster, Y/N/N, I could hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“‘Lijah, what’re you talking about? You’re anything but a monster. You’re literally the sweetest person I know.” You protested.

“Aren’t you terrified by the prospect that I was transformed into a creature that feeds off of blood? A creature that nearly killed you?”

“I’m not and you wanna know why? Because I know the real you and you’re far from just a vampire.”

“But-” Before he could utter another word you suddenly pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up.

“That was.” Elijah grinned as he found it difficult to find the words to describe just how perfect it was.

You giggled, looping your arms around his neck, “If you’re going to pick back up on your monologue, I’m seriously kicking you.”

The vampire chuckled, “I can’t seem to recall what the topic was anymore.” before pulling you in for another kiss.

–

The sun was shining, the air was cool, and all the factions of New Orleans were at peace - nothing could seem more perfect.

Especially with your arm looped around Elijah’s.

“It feels like eternity since I last saw this.” Elijah mused.

“Saw what?” You asked.

“This.” He emphasized, “Everything is at peace, almost as if we were in some sort of paradise.”

Looking up at him with a smile, you said, “As long as I’m around you, everyday is paradise.”

The original chuckled, pecking a kiss to your cheek, “Now look who’s stealing my lines.”

“What?” You feigned offence, “Would you rather someone else did?”

“Never in a million years.” Elijah answered.

–

“Where is she? Bring me to her, this instance!” Elijah almost screamed as he bursted through the doors of the compound.

“Elijah, you need to calm down, she’s okay.” Rebekah said in an attempt to console her brother.

“I saw her, Rebekah, I know she isn’t okay - it’s my fault, I need to see her.” Her older brother pleaded.

“She’s in the guest room with Cami.”

As soon as the blonde uttered these words, Elijah ran to the room in question, “Camille! How is she?”

Cami shushes him, “She’s okay Elijah, her injuries looked worse than they actually were, she’s just resting now.”

The original breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down on the seat Cami had been occupying earlier while nursing you, “Thank you Cami, I’m sorry for what happened.”

Cami gave him a reassuring smile, “It’s not your fault Elijah, none of us would’ve seen it coming.”

She then left the room, closing the door behind her to give you and Elijah some privacy.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be here, go home, it’s too dangerous.” Elijah said the moment he saw you.

“I can’t Eli, I can’t stay home knowing that all of you are out here.” You protested.

“It’s too dangerous out here, you could get seriously hurt and I don’t want that.” He argued.

Before you could argue any further, Elijah immediately vampire-sped you to a secluded part of the area, “Stay here and don’t come out unless you are in grave danger or I come to pick you up.”

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly pressed a kiss to lips, “Little advice, getting stabbed with the white oak stake, because that will surely get you killed.”

Despite the ongoing battle, Elijah managed to smile, “I’ll take note of that then.”

–

Elijah would surely lecture you for this, that is if the both of you make it out of this alive.

It feels like actual torture to just stand around and wait for the battle to be over, so naturally, you ignored what Eliah had tol you and set out to fight.

Setting aside the tragedy, the whole scenery almost looked like something out of a movie - the blood splattered everyday could’ve been enough to stage a couple of crime scenes, hearts lay discarded, almost indistinguishable figures moved in and out and fortunately, no one has noticed you.

That’s when you saw it, Lucien with the white oak stake in his hand, ready to stab an unsuspecting Elijah busy fighting another vampire.

So, you did the natural thing and took the stake for him.

Elijah closed his eyes, he could still remember the way his senses told him that something was wrong a little too late, the way the blood soaked your shirt, your pained scream.

He was supposed to protect you, how could he let that happen?

“Elijah…” He suddenly heard the voice he so desperately wanted to hear.

“Y/N/N,” Elijah stood up, stroking your hair, “How’re you feeling?”

You smiled at him, “I’m feeling fine, shoulder’s just a bit sore.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been able to protect you, I was supposed to keep you safe. How do I manage to kill every woman I love?” He said.

“It’s not your fault, you protected me, you literally had me hide in a safe place. I was the one who walked into the battlefield.” You insisted.

A slight pout formed on Elijah’s lips, “But you still got hurt, you literally got stabbed. I should’ve just brought you back to the compound first.”

“And let you get stabbed with the white oak stake? Not a chance.” You laughed.

“But you got hurt.”

“And you’re alive, would you rather it be the other way around?”

“I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

“I told you to avoid the white oak stakes.”

You sighed, intertwining your hands, “Eli, I’m not a damsel in distress, I appreciate that you want to protect me but know that I can also protect you. It’s basically just give and take.”

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve always protected everyone I loved.” He said.

“Then, me and your family will always be here to protect you.” You answered.

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah x reader #elijah x y/n #mikaelson family #mikaelson family x reader #the originals x you #the originals fanfiction #the originals

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

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He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Three

Summary: You feel guilty about having a night out and hope to cover up your tracks as best you can Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: Yändere, smut, explicit language pretty much it lol a/n: I hope you guys like it! I'm literally horrible at writing smut but I wanted to show another side to how things can be with him sometimes (I'm saying him because I'm not gonna spoil it when you can just read it lol) regardless hope this doesn't disappoint 🫢 Requested by @kkusadmirer 💜

"Girl who was that?" Rae asks, when she walk over to my side of the bar after Jungkook left.

"His name is Jungkook and honestly I don't really know much about him. He caught me off guard and was asking me a bunch of questions that I didn't really think to ask him any" I say, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You think he's cute don't you?" she asks taking note of my shyer demeanor while thinking about him.

"He is attractive and dreamy but I'm married" I say flashing the ring at her in a similar fashion as I had done with Jungkook. "Dreamy? Really?" she teases, snorting at my description. "I'm sorry okay he's the first nice guy I've actually talked to in a while since my husband and I got married" I say, resting my elbows on the bar and throwing my face in my hands.

"From what I heard, doesn't really sound like he's all that good of a husband" she says, not bothering to spare my feelings. "He's not that bad" I mumble, scarcely believing my words with every effort I put in to defend him.

"If you've gotta say it like that after only two people have said otherwise I don't really think you've got much going for you" she says setting a glass of water in front of me, already seeing signs of a need to stop drinking for the night.

"I mean, he's all I've ever known. He was my first serious boyfriend, my first everything if I'm being honest. We met in college and really hit it off and everything just felt right. After we graduated he asked me to marry him and it felt like a fairy tale ending you know?" I say, swirling around the ice in my cup in an effort to avoid her gaze.

"Sounds like it didn't turn out the way you thought it was going to though" she says, clearly feeling sorry for me.

"Things between us are fine" I say sitting back up and clearing my throat before taking a drink of water to hopefully help me swallow down this lump in my throat. Getting a reality check from two perfect strangers with them only knowing the tip of the iceberg of my marriage has been hard to accept to say the least.

"What's his name anyways? I might've seen him before if he likes to go out sometimes" she asks, coming back over with a pitcher to fill up my water, encouraging me to drink more.

"Taehyung, well Tae for short" I say, hoping and praying that the name won't ring a bell. "Got a picture of him?" she asks, leaning in closer when I pull out my phone. "Shit" she says under her breath as soon as she sees him.

"What?" I ask pulling it back as though her words had stung me. "He's come here a few times with some friends of his. They're one of the rowdier groups that comes by so we've had to kick them out on occasion" she says clearing her throat at the end, almost as if she's trying to hold something back.

"If you know anything else about him please tell me" I implore, refusing to be in the dark about this if she knows. "He's gone 'home' with a few girls here" she says putting home in quotes since he's obviously never brought them back to our place. "Do you know how many?" I ask, knowing that I really don't want to know the answer.

"I've lost track..." she answers, hating that she had to be the one to reveal this to me. "Did you know?" she asks with her brows pinched together. "That he's been sleeping around? Yeah, I know" I say taking a big gulp of my water as if it were the solution to this fucked up life I'm living.

"Why haven't you left?" she asks, genuinely concerned. "He's my husband" I say with glossy eyes but then clear my throat again to hopefully curb these emotions. "And? He's a dick" she says, continuing with her efforts to never pull punches. "You don't know him like I do" I say, standing up and grabbing my purse to go.

"Just, be careful okay?" she implores, placing her hand on top of mine before I get too far. "I will" I say and give her a sad smile before walking out and waiting for the cab I called a few moments ago.

~~~~~~

Walking into the house I'm relieved to see that Taehyung is no where to be found, the lights still having been turned off from when I had locked up.

Taking off my shoes, I quickly put them in the closet in an effort to quickly cover my tracks and I run into the bedroom soon after that. I take off my clothes and throw them into the washer to again avoid any suspicions because I don't want him even remotely knowing that I managed to leave the house on my own again.

Walking into the bathroom to take a shower as well I see that somehow some of the makeup I had applied rubbed off and I was unknowingly sporting one of the hickeys Taehyung had left. I look at it in the mirror a bit closer, starting to wonder how long it's been showing. 'Did Jungkook see it?' I question, really hoping the answer is no even though he knows I'm married, it's not something I want to show off.

It could've been worse though, he could've seen the other bruises I have that clearly show evidence of much more than just rough sex. 'How would he have reacted? Would he have said something?' I continue, asking myself question after question, soon starting to regret my decisions of going out tonight.

Did I have a good time? Sure. But it doesn't make up for the amount of fear and guilt I'm going to feel if Taehyung finds out. Will he do something? Will he get angry? Will he leave? Knowing him he would accuse me of cheating on him even though I'm the one who confirmed my suspicions.

He, like Rae is someone that doesn't pull punches literally and figuratively. It's something that I've leaned to live with, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Hey" I hear him say softly while opening the bathroom door, scaring me and not even realizing how lost in thought I had been. To the point of not even realizing that he had gotten home.

"Hi" I say timidly, not knowing what his next move might be.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he questions in a mischievous tone, already taking his shirt off. I open the glass door as a way to invite him in and I hold out my hand waiting for him, knowing I really have no choice in the matter.

"Hi beautiful" he says after getting in, placing his hands on my hips and leaning down to kiss me softly on the lips. I sigh into the kiss, thankful he's back home again and showing his softer side to me again, clearly trying to make up for how we had left things the last time we saw each other.

"I missed you" he says in a husky voice leaning down further to place a few open mouthed kisses on my neck marking me again, no doubt to make up for the ones that had started to fade. "Missed you" I say through a breathy tone then my breath hitches moments later when he bites down on my shoulder.

"You smell so sweet baby" he says running his nose along the length of my neck before making his way back up to kissing me. "It's my" *kiss* "new" *kiss* "body wash" I say, trying my best to answer but he purposefully works against me, loving the struggle I put up.

"I like it. Buy it again for me when you run out okay? I want my pretty wife smelling like this all the time" he says before flipping me around and pressing my chest agains the wall.

"You gonna be good and let me take you in here?" he asks grinding his dick against my ass making my breath pick up, not expecting this drastic change in behavior. I nod my head with my cheek against the tiles. He presses his chest flush up against my back, pushing me up against the wall even harder, making my chest feel sore as my nipples rub up against the cool surface, making me whine from the sensation.

"Aw look at you, so needy and ready to be full" he say, leaning back a bit and running his finger along my slit, feeling how I'm already clenching around nothing and dripping with arousal as the water falls on my back in a steady stream. "Fuck you look so hot right now" he says looking at my face and dragging his eyes down my figure before spreading my legs a bit and making moves to put it in.

"Wait" I whimper. "Don't worry, you can take it" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before sliding the tip in and making me take in a sharp breath at the intrusion, him continuing to push himself further and further inside until he's bottomed out.

He enjoys the feeling of my walls spasming around him as I feel the burn from trying to get used to him again. It isn't like this often, he usually loves to take his time prepping and teasing me until I'm begging for more but he had an almost urgency to be inside me this time.

"Fuck" he says as he starts to move in and out of me, watching the way my ass moves with every thrust and is addicted to the moans that come from me naturally, being caught off guard by all of this and not expecting this to happen tonight.

"Feels s-so good" I say, clawing at the walls for something to hold onto, knowing there's nothing there for me. He takes notice and he places his hands on top of mine, thrusting in and out with only his own hips supporting mine as he growls in my ear.

"Been dying to fuck this pretty little cunt all day. Then I come home and you're in the shower making it so easy for me to just slip it in, practically begging for my cock" he says as he slows down his thrust but puts more force behind each one.

"Isn't that right? You just want to be good for me and take it, let me have my way with you" he says pulling out and flipping me around, enjoying the dick drunk look on my face. He lifts one of my legs up and wraps it around his waist, pounding into me harder making me grab onto his neck and pull him in for a kiss, silencing my moans, making him swallow them as he coaxes more and more out of me.

"S-shit" he stutters and tells me to jump, wrapping my other leg around his waist as well so he can thrust into me harder. I clench around him when he wraps his mouth around one of my sensitive buds, hard and begging for stimulating.

"Fuck, more" I whine, desperately needing release. "You wanna cum?" he taunts, letting go of my throbbing bud with a pop. "Tae please" I moan digging my nails into his shoulders. He groans at the feeling and grips onto my waist digging his fingers into them, no doubt leaving bruises.

Giving me a few more thrusts he has my eyes rolling back and my toes curling as my orgasm hits me like a ton of bricks with him still fucking into me, helping me ride it out before he cums a couple minutes later.

Slipping out and sliding me down the wall and back on my feet he leans up against me while our breathing mixes with the sound of the water still falling all around us. He places a few soft kisses on my shoulder before pushing off the wall and placing both of his hands on my cheek, kissing me softly, helping me slowly come back down and leaving my my mind foggy and drunk on him.

"I love you" he says when he breaks apart from my lips. "I love you too" I smile, humming in contentment and feeling so good, loving that despite everything he loves me no matter what.

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ashdreams2023 · 1 year

Note

hello! I honestly never know where to request cause idk what submission means cause English isn’t my first language and the translation isnt really clear so I’ll just request here I hope u don’t mind<3 anyway I was wondering if you could do a harry j potter x fem!reader smut and I have 2 ideas (all takes place in hbp cause it’s legal to have sex at 16 there I think?$ so 1st one is that soft!harry and reader are dating but haven’t really done anything yet except for dry humping and heated makeouts but they want to go further and harry fingers her for the first time and she’s like afraid to cum cause she’s never done this before and he’s like “it’s okay love, you can let go” and he guides her through this cause he’s kinda more experienced so basically just very fluffy smut or the second one where soft!dom harry and reader are dating and they have sex for the first time only reader is a virgin and she’s very insecure and harry isn’t so she’s like very shy but he assures her like “it’s just me, don’t be embarrassed” and it’s like all loving and fluffy and cute<3 only if you’re comfortable tho! I hope you understood everything (I’m gonna get out of fucking Poland one day and learn English perfectly im telling you) sorry that’s kinda long, anyway, thank you!

I get you lol but for the sake of keeping everything together ima mush them up together 👌

Trust me

Harry James potter x female reader

Warnings: nsfw, first time.

You thought finding out you’re a witch was the craziest thing that could ever happen to you but as years go by, it’s proven to be just the tip of the iceberg.

Just last summer you went on a one on one with death eaters in the ministry of magic and made it out alive.

After that summer came and with it came Harry Potter, who happened to live in the same little town your grandparents lived in.

You spent a lot of time together, he was heartbroken and felt alone, you tried to comfort him and take his mind off things, it took a while but he opened up to you.

One thing lead to another and he kissed you a few weeks after his birthday, fast forward to the end of the summer and things kept getting heated.

You didn’t know if it was because you were both hormonal or was it because he wanted something else to focus on but you knew one thing, you really liked the way he kissed and touched you.

It wasn’t a secret that you two were close either, everyone noticed the way he dozed off looking at you when he thought you weren’t looking, and the hand holding underneath the table, the subtle touches in the halls, a blind person could sense it.

"I thought I was gonna die in there" he kissed you then pushed you on his bed, the dorms were empty and he had the entire space for himself.

"Oh don’t be mean to old sprout, she was just trying to help" you pulled him on top of you and warped your arms around his neck then pulled him down, his lips touched yours in a heated kiss that made your fingertips tingle.

"I was dying out there" he smiled against your lips then dragged his lips to your neck and nippled on your soft skin.

You sighed at the feeling of his lips, his teeth dug into your flesh playfully and his lips sucked on the spot until you let out a desperate moan.

"Merlin you sound brilliant" he lowered his head, pressing his forehead to your chest and catching his breath, his heart raced with anticipation "Can I have you?"

You bit down on your bottom lip, the warmth on your skin was permanent "Yes."

He quickly took off his shirt then helped you with yours, his eyes lingered at your exposed breasts before cursing under his breath and taking the rest of his clothes off.

He’s seen you half naked before but this was different.

The second every article of clothing was on the floor, you latched onto each others bodies, his hands explored every part of exposed skin he could reach, but paid special attention to your breasts, they were just perfect and he was just a guy.

"Are you sure you want this?" You suddenly blurted.

Harry paused and looked down at you "are you uncomfortable with this? Do you want me to stop?"

You shook your head then looked away "it’s just…I haven’t done this before and I’m not sure I’m appealing enough to-"

"Are you naked underneath me or not?"

"Yes I am…"

"Do you see me doing this to anyone but you?"

"No but-"

"Shush then, I like you and only you…I’m glad I’m doing this with you, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want too"

You stared up at him with wide eyes, you hadn’t expected this reaction, Harry was the chosen one, many girls swooned over him and thought he was quite cute.

"I want too"

"Then do you trust me?"

"Yes."

His hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing it with his finger and riling you up slowly, your body tensed and begged for more.

His fingers felt like magic.

You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly, digging your nails into his flesh and marking him.

"H-Harry!"

"Does it feel good?"

That was the most confident you’ve seen him off a broom, Harry was usually awkward and sometimes it was just unbreakable.

"Yeah…" your mouth opened when he pushed his finger in, slowly. You reached your hand and touched his dick, it was hard and he hissed when you touched it.

You were soaking and wanted to go onto the next step already but Harry seemed to enjoy torturing you.

He pushed the second finger in and groaned when you clenched around his fingers, your hips moved up and the filthy moans spread in the dorm room.

Harry licked his lips then licked your nipple, it made you shiver.

His cock twitched in your hand.

"I’m going to" your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out and climbed completely on top of you and slid himself inside of you.

You throw your head back on his pillow and moaned, his hands held you tight by the hips.

Harry groaned as he moved inside of you, you felt amazing, perfect around him.

"So good…you’re so good" he moaned loudly as he kept pushing.

Your body moved along his, it wasn’t uncomfortable but very strange feeling, something new, you felt so full.

"Are you ok?" He breathed, his face was flushed and his green eyes shine with something almost dark.

"Yes" you replied warping your arms around his neck and kissing him, you felt heat build up inside of you and your legs felt weak, shaking slightly as he pounded inside of you.

"Perfect, bloody hell you’re perfect" Harry mumbled kissing your cheek and the rest of your face with breathless butterfly kisses.

Your body reached it’s limit but you didn’t want to let go yet, what if you ruin it? What if Harry regrets doing it with you because of that?!

Thankfully your boyfriend noticed your panicked expression and pressed his lips to your forehead for reassurance "it’s ok, everything is ok, just let go, you can cum" that’s all it took to loosen up your nerves and release on his dick with a silent scream and arched back.

He held you close as the climax road your body and made sure that every muscle in your body would remember this for a while after.

Harry sighed in relief as he pushed inside you a few more times then pulled out and came on your chest.

He laid next to you and pulled the blanket over you both, his face seemed peaceful and the without the glasses, he looked somewhat different, he didn’t look like his father, he was more mature, his face was sharp but soft around the eyes, he was very handsome.

"Thank you" he said.

"For what?"

"For trusting me"

You smiled softly at him then scooted closer to him, at this moment he wasn’t the wizarding world’s young hero, he was just Harry, your Harry.

"I think…I love you" you said ever so delicately.

A boyish grin spread on his face "Little old me?"

"Oh shut up!"

"No say it again!"

A/N: sorry if there was any misspelling or grammar mistakes, I wrote this in one go, so hopefully it’s good enough!

#imagine #harry james potter #harry potter requests #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter smut #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fandom #harry potter x reader

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heavyhitterheaux · 10 months

Text

Three Little Loves: The Birth of the Triple Threat Harlows

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Mature topics ahead. There are mentions of blood, chest compressions, death and other medical terms that I did my best to put in layman's terms so that people would be able to understand. If anything is unclear, all you have to do is ask and I will explain it! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and we're finally here!

Synopsis: You give birth to your three babies, Ivy, Axel, and Autumn, but not without complications that led Jack to think he would have to be without his wife for the rest of his life.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The night was clear as a few stars peppered the sky as you were sitting outside in the backyard in a comfortable silence taking it all in. In just a few hours, you and Jack would be able to officially add the title of parents to your lives and the two of you would now be responsible for three little versions of the both of you.

It was a long time coming with the pregnancy and the two of you at first swept things under the rug and put them to the side regarding the both of you and the relationship between the two of you that was considered a marriage if anyone could call it that.

Being petty, lying to each other, going behind each other’s backs, and not being considerate of the other’s feelings was just a tip of the iceberg of what had only occurred in the past year when Jack’s career truly skyrocketed from his success of First Class. You kept it to yourself how it bothered you how he was acting differently and blamed it on him being under pressure to maintain this level of success. However you did warn him right before the two of you moved to Atlanta for him never to lose sight of his humble beginnings and to never forget how he got to where he is.

During the last half of your pregnancy, the two of you did start to go to marriage counseling as well as seeing a therapist together and apart not wanting to bring the triplets into a hot mess express. The two of you still had a long way to go and truth be told, you knew that you never wanted to do this with anyone else despite what the two of you had gone through. You had a lingering thought in your head during the last therapy session wondering if in fact the two of you got married entirely too early even if you knew that it was eventually going to happen anyway. Yes, you loved him and you knew that he was your soulmate, however, it happened when the two of you had turned nineteen not even being able to explore the world around you yet and you had a feeling that had a big part to play in it.

After you had left Jack in your shared condo in California and before you found out you were pregnant, you were thinking long and hard about separating from him for a while.

Legally.

You knew in your heart of hearts that you didn’t want to divorce him and would never bring yourself to do it, but you felt that as of lately, you were always getting the short end of the stick when it came to him, when before you would always be his priority. You could admit to yourself that you weren’t innocent either in all of this and Jack was not the only one to be blamed for what went down between the two of you. A lot had to be worked on from both ends and you wanted for your kids to be able to witness a happy and successful marriage.

Right now you couldn’t have either of those labels on it.

Jack stepped up into high gear when you told him that you were in fact pregnant and would do anything that a loving husband would. However, you didn’t feel as though he was hiding something from you, that wasn’t quite the right word, but you knew deep down he was scared shitless and had his concerns about this entire situation. However, he didn’t express his feelings about it to you at all since you originally told him. He gave you pieces here and there, but that was it.

Another thought was Jack always wanting and needing to be the strong one and not necessarily showing his vulnerable side to you and you didn’t know when that shift happened because the two of you would always be laying in your backyard at night talking about anything and everything and now it seems as if everything is on the surface.

You honestly didn’t know how your husband was feeling deep down and that bothered you to no end. He would simply brush you off when you mentioned it and you were running out of ideas in order to get him to open up more.

It was one in the morning and your alarm as well as Jack's was set for five in order to get up and get ready to head to the hospital. You were growing anxious as the clock ticked by and just wanted to be able to hold them.

Yesterday, you cornered Urban in his room and had a long talk with him that led to the both of you being upset. Urban more so than you because of what you had told him.

You softened him up by buying him Ramen before the initial blow.

“Urby? You have to promise me something, okay? Just in case things don’t go well tomorrow.”

“What? What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!”

“Urby, please. Just listen to me because this is already hard enough.” You muttered while sitting next to him on his bed.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I… I’ve written letters for Jack, the triplets, you and all of PG, my parents, my sister, Jess, Blanca, Victoria, and Diamonte if anything were to happen to me and you cannot under any circumstance open it unless something does. I wanted to give them to you because… Jack…. I don’t understand where his head is at the moment and I know he’s scared even if he doesn’t admit it. I know he’s putting on a brave face, but he’s scared of losing me and for good reason. I mean…. I couldn’t have this conversation with him without him going off the deep end so I knew that I had to come to you. Now, if it comes down to saving me or them….”

Urban immediately cut you off.

“No. Absolutely not, I can’t…. I don’t want to hear this.” You could see Urban getting visibly upset and you were also doing your best not to cry.

“Urban Henry, please. I know that this is hard to hear, but I have to be realistic. If anything were to happen to me, I know for a fact that you will raise them as if they were your own and help Jack to the best of your ability. We picked you to be their Godfather for a reason. But save them over me. They deserve to have a chance to live.”

“You aren’t… you aren’t going anywhere, okay? You’re not.” Urban quietly said and was trying to do his best not to let the tears fall since you saw that his eyes were watering.

“Don’t cry because then I’m going to start crying and Jack will then question both of us.”

“How can I not? I don’t want to think of losing one of my best friends in the entire world.”

“I know, but you know that I am always going to look over you and protect you, right? That’s never ever going to change whether I’m physically here or not. So here are the letters and this is between me and you and you cannot tell Jack unless you know… something happens.”

“Now if nothing happens, are you going to tell him?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but it would be smart if I did. I love you so so much and thank you for all that you do for the both of us.” You said while leaning over to hug Urban as much as your stomach would allow.

“Love you too and you better not fucking leave me.”

You heard the sliding glass door open and footsteps which you knew belonged to your husband who came and sat next to you while grabbing your hand in his.

“What are you doing up?” He quietly asked while kissing your cheek as you still had your gaze held onto the sky.

“I can’t sleep, but that isn’t anything new.” You replied while shrugging and Jack started rubbing small circles on the back of your hand that he was holding.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby. We’re almost there.”

“But you don’t know that. I don’t mean to be negative or anything like that but it’s true. There’s not one baby in there, there’s three. Things can go wrong even if there's only one.”

“And you have the best possible team of doctors looking after you and I have made sure of it. You’re going to get the best care and have been getting it this entire time.”

“Promise me something.” You quietly said after a few minutes.

“What is it?”

“And don’t fight me on this. I figured that I needed to tell you this before they cut me open.”

“Baby, you’re making me nervous.” Jack quietly said while looking over at you and from that point you knew that you couldn't tell him about the letters. Not yet anyway.

Now you were hesitant to even say anything about it since you know Jack likes to worry 90% of the time and probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep after this.

“Can you make sure you have my favorite pizza and Calypso ready to eat afterwards?”

Jack left out a small laugh before nodding his head and leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Your wish is my command. Anything you want or need, you know that I’m going to do it for you. That's not ever going to change."

“I appreciate you for that.”

Jack placed another kiss on your cheek before responding.

“Hey, you want to find our stars? It’s been a while since we looked at them.”

One thing that drew Jack to you was how smart you were and your obsession with all things space related. He was convinced that if you weren’t doing music that you would probably work for NASA.

You eagerly nodded as Jack went to go and get the telescope and you stood up as best you could waiting for him to come back.

Once he did, he set everything up and pulled out the little paper that had both of your stars on it that you gave to each other when he first asked you to be his girlfriend when the two of you were fifteen.

“Can you find it or do you need my help like always?” You playfully asked him and he simply shook his head and laughed at you.

“I got this baby.”

“You sure about that because you are definitely looking in the wrong direction.”

“Oh. Then maybe I do.” Jack quietly said before you laughed at him and quickly pointed the telescope in the right direction and zoomed in on his star.

“There it is.” You said backing away from the telescope in order to give Jack enough room to look through it and see his star.

“We should get the three of them one too.”

You quickly nodded in agreement and rubbed your belly at the thought of being able to teach them all that you knew about space and show them the stars that you and Jack are going to name after them.

Then it was time for you to find yours and all you had to do was move the telescope slightly to your right.

“Still as bright as the first time I saw it.” You quietly said as you felt Jack behind you.

“Still as bright as the love that I have for you when I first came up with the idea to get it for you.”

“And I hope that your love for me never dims.” You muttered in response, not sure if Jack had heard you, but he did.

“Why would you ever think that?”

“Just… this past year neither of us have truly been all in when it came to this marriage and all of a sudden I get pregnant when we weren’t even on the best terms. I feel that we still aren’t, but it’s moving in the right direction.”

"I…. I can admit that what happened shouldn't have happened and I'll be making that up to you for the rest of my life."

"It goes both ways because it wasn't only your fault but mine too."

"From this point forward, that is never going to happen again. I treated you as if you weren't my priority when you are. I promised to always take care of you when I asked you to marry me and I've fallen short of that. I just want us to get back to how we were before."

"As long as we work at it, we will." You quietly answered as Jack leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you. More than anything in this world."

"I love you too." You replied in response as you hugged him tighter.

"Now let's get some sleep because you know we probably won't get any quality sleep until they're eighteen."

"You mean the rest of our lives as bad as you like to worry and make me worry with you."

"I figured I'd get an early start. And you know I always worry about you and that won't ever change."

"Baby, you already have gray hair so I'm going to need for you to cut it out."

"Ehh, no promises."

—

You were now being prepped in the operating room as Jack was sitting to the left of you and you had to admit that he looked very cute in his little blue bonnet with a few curls sticking out and blue scrubs that the staff had given them to wear.

Your anxiety was at an all time high and you were doing your best to calm your breathing as Jack was holding your hand.

“What if I feel them cutting me?” You asked as your eyes went wide and looked over at your husband who simply shook his head.

“They have done this a million times and know what they are doing.” Jack answered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and you nodded.

“The only thing you’ll feel Mrs. Harlow is pressure on your stomach and that’s it. We have everything set up for them once they are out and you already know that they will be in the NICU just to give them the little extra help that they need in order for them to be strong enough to come home.”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you held Jack’s hand tighter.

“Okay! Here we go!”

You glanced at the clock in the room to see that it was 7:19 am and that was when the first incision was made.

As promised, you didn’t feel anything except pressure as Jack was being the most supportive husband that you could have ever asked for and helped to keep you calm. After the two of you finally went to bed early that morning, he simply laid there staring at the ceiling absolutely scared shitless about what was due to happen in a few hours as he watched you sleep peacefully which he was surprised by seeing as this was probably the most you had gotten in weeks.

“You got this, baby. They’re almost here.”

“First baby is out! It’s a girl! Here mom and dad. Look how gorgeous she is." One of the nurses came to the head of the bed where the two of you were and the two of you couldn’t do anything but smile. You heard her cry and couldn't help but let a few tears slip out.

“Ivy May.” You and Jack said at the exact same time while laughing. It was only right to name her after both of your mothers seeing as how big of an influence that they had on the both of you.

She was then whisked away to get evaluated by the NICU nurse to make sure she was indeed stable as you then became nervous because of what was said.

“Number two is out. It’s a boy!”

The one thing that you were listening out for was his cry and when you didn’t hear anything you started to panic.

“Why is he not crying?!” You asked while turning towards Jack who then got a terrified look on his face.

“Breathe for me, okay. Take some deep breaths. Slowly in and out.” Jack said and you followed his instructions as best as you could when suddenly you heard Axel's first cry.

“Thank God.”

“He’s not breathing too well on his own so we’re going to intubate him and take him upstairs.”

Neither you or Jack got to see Axel as he was whisked away to the NICU and you were trying your best not to think the absolute worst. Jack could see the absolute fear in your eyes and was trying to put on a brave face for the both of you.

“And here comes number three! It’s a girl! You did an amazing job mom! Going to close you up and get you to postpartum.”

“I told you everything would be fine, babe. I have one bad ass wife. Three at one time? Your fave could never.” Jack said and you immediately laughed as he leaned over to kiss you.

You weren’t sure how long it would take in order to stitch you back up, but more than a few minutes had passed and you were growing nervous but tried to relax seeing as the hardest part was over.

At least you thought it was.

Even though you were laying down, you suddenly felt lightheaded and knew that something wasn't right and Jack immediately took notice since you weren’t interacting with him as much as before.

“Baby? Babe? Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asked suddenly in a panic. You were trying to do your best to talk in order to respond to him, but nothing was coming out but you eventually managed to utter a few words.

"Something isn't right."

"What's not right?!" He immediately asked you, but you didn't say anything else.

“Y/N! Why is she not answering me?!” Jack turned to the nurses and doctors looking for answers as they now shared looks of panic between them even if they were trying to do their best hiding it from Jack. They were professionals and the last thing they would ever want is to cause fear, but their job description required them to be honest.

"Mrs. Harlow, try to stay awake for me."

“She’s losing a lot of blood, her uterus isn’t contracting as much as we want it to so we’re giving her drugs in order to help speed up the process.”

“Hang O neg now and hang the fluids wide open. Call the blood bank for more units just in case STAT.”

That was the last thing that you remember hearing before your hand went limp in Jack’s.

The heart monitor that you were hooked up to flatlined and Jack’s eyes went wide.

"I LOST HER PULSE!"

“No, no this cannot be happening…. no.” Was all Jack quietly said as he looked at you in disbelief.

“Start compressions."

"Someone get the defibrillator!"

“She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Mr. Harlow, your wife’s heart has stopped and we’re trying to get her back, now go with Andrew and let us work. We’re going to do all that we can in order for her to be able to see her triplets grow up.” One of the nurses said to Jack and she maneuvered him away from you as he saw them pounding on your chest.

"GET THE EPINEPHRINE READY."

"PULSE CHECK!"

"I DON’T FEEL ANYTHING."

"RESUME COMPRESSIONS."

“INTUBATE HER NOW!”

Once Jack was out in the hallway, he simply had tunnel vision and was trying to keep himself together and not have a panic attack. In that moment, he knew he had to call her thinking the absolute worst.

He was about to be a widow at 25 with newborn triplets.

“Mom, Y/N’s heart stopped. I don’t… I don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

—

When your eyes fluttered open, you were confused about where you were or what had happened and the fact that you noticed that you couldn’t talk. Your eyes went wide and immediately started to pull at every tube covering your face, but a gentle hand stopped you.

“Hi Y/N. You’re okay sweetie, but I need you to relax for a second. You’re in the intensive care unit because you bled out after they delivered your babies and your heart stopped. They put a breathing tube down your throat in order to protect your airway. I’m your nurse, Lydia and I’ve been taking care of you for the last two days. Your babies are in the NICU and your husband is there with them now. He has only left your side to go and see them and then he’s right back here waiting for you to wake up. I finally convinced him to go home and rest and he finally did yesterday when I had finished my shift. You have an amazing husband and support team that is out of this world. We’ll get you situated and see about taking you to see them.”

When Lydia finished, you couldn’t help but to still have a thousand questions run through your mind and a few tears slip out.

How were the triplets since you only saw them for mere seconds as they were whisked away from you to go straight to the NICU even though your doctor had already told you that would be the case. You were most concerned about if their breathing was okay. You didn’t even get to see Axel since you remembered them saying that they needed to intubate him immediately when he came out.

You couldn’t even imagine how Jack was for the past few days and that hurt your heart to no end not knowing if his wife was going to live or not.

“They have one strong mama and your husband has one strong wife. You fought tooth and nail in order to get back to them.” Lydia quietly said as she wiped away your tears.

“I’m going to go get the doctor so we can see about taking the breathing tube out. I will be right back and your husband should be back soon.”

All you could do was nod as she left the room and as promised, less than ten minutes later you had dozed off once again and suddenly heard Jack’s footsteps. You peeked your eyes open to see him carrying a huge bear and setting it in the corner before coming over to you.

As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it as tight as you could startling him.

“Baby! You’re okay… I…..” Jack started to say as he leaned over to kiss the top of your head and give you a hug as best as he could with all the different equipment in the way.

You lost count of how many kisses he placed over your face, but of course you didn’t care.

“I thought that I was going to lose you. Your heart stopped twice." Jack quietly said through his tears and you couldn’t help but to start crying again yourself.

“One minute you were talking to me and then I don’t even know what happened. Despite everything that has happened in the past year, you know for a damn fact that I don’t want to be in this life without you. I love you more than I can even put into words. And what we made are absolutely beautiful. Ivy is doing okay, but still on oxygen and all three are in the incubator. Axel still has the breathing tube and Autumn is the feisty one that keeps taking the oxygen off. I’ve been going back and forth between you and them since everything happened.”

You saw Lydia come back in the room with who you assumed was the doctor and she was all smiles which indicated to you that you were about to get this tube out of your throat.

“Okay we're going to turn off the ventilator and I'm going to suction your mouth for any mucus or anything. Once we take out the tube, we need you to take a deep breath. It's going to feel weird since now you have to breathe on your own after four days."

You simply looked over at Jack and he nodded his head.

You had missed the first four days of your triplets life and would never be able to get that back.

Once the tube was out you were finally able to take a deep breath and as Lydia told you it felt weird as if you weren't getting enough air.

"We're going to put you on high flow oxygen and then eventually decrease you down until you don't need it anymore.

"Okay." You quietly said and it came out almost as a whisper, but Jack was just glad to hear your voice.

They took your vitals and watched you for a few minutes before explaining that they would start you on liquids and you would eventually move up to a regular diet as soon as the speech therapist evaluated you.

When the two of them left the room, it was once again only you and Jack and he didn’t want to leave your sight.

He moved his chair closer to you as you reached over to play in his curls.

"I….read the letter you wrote for me. As soon as I told Urb what had happened, he didn't even hesitate to give it to me, not knowing how everything was going to play out. I’m not sure if he gave anyone else theirs or if he even read his, but he felt that it was important to read mine and for good reason.”

"The thought came to me to do it a few weeks ago."

“It’s almost like you knew.”

“I just thought it was important that I do it. Like I said one baby is dangerous but adding two more to that?”

“He also told me that if it came down to it, you wanted me to save them and not you.”

At that point you looked away from your husband and was now more interested in the pink and blue nail polish that was covering your fingers for your one boy and two girls.

“I’ve lived already and they haven’t.”

“You’ve barely lived. You’re 24.”

“But still, I knew that as much as Urban didn’t want to hear that, he was going to be strong enough to fulfill my wishes if you weren’t. I knew that making that decision would be impossible for you so I asked him to do it. I know that you wouldn’t want to be without me but, I’ll be damned if you were going to lose another child. That would have broken you.”

“If it went either way it would have broken me. So I’m happy that I didn’t have to make that decision. I couldn’t imagine you going through this entire pregnancy and not even being able to see them grow up.”

“I know.” You quietly answered and immediately sighed.

“What’s on your mind besides wanting to see them?”

“I’m just extremely overwhelmed. My body just went through a lot and I know it’s not ever going to be the same again. I mean it’s obvious that it never will be, but still.”

“And we’re going to get through this one day at a time. I will be with you every step of the way to help you through this. I love you and nothing is ever going to change that.”

“I love you too and thank you for that.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for doing my job as your husband.” Jack softly answered you as he leaned over to kiss you and you couldn’t help but to smile.

You heard a soft knock and in walked Lydia with the biggest smile on her face.

“Are you ready to see your triplets?”

You eagerly nodded as she walked over towards you to unhook you from your IV fluids and help you get in the wheelchair in order to take you over to see them.

You weren’t sure why, but now you had suddenly become nervous. Jack had already warned you that all three of them were in an incubator and Axel still had a breathing tube since he wasn’t able to breathe on his own quite yet. Even with all that he told you, you still didn’t feel ready, however, it was now or never. This was your reality and you had to see it through along with Jack. You felt as if your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

Lydia grabbed a portable oxygen tank so that you would be able to keep it in your nose to help you get used to breathing on your own again while also giving you pain medicine since she knew your first time up was going to be the hardest.

Once she was finished setting everything up, she helped you to sit and dangle on the side of the bed and you felt as if someone ripped you in half.

Well, they did.

Literally.

“Shit, this hurts.” You muttered and you weren’t quite sure where to pinpoint the pain, your chest from them doing compressions on you or your actual incision site.

“You did the hard part, mama. It’s going to hurt, no doubt about that but it will get better with the more that you move around. Sit there for a few seconds on the side of the bed before I help you over to the wheelchair.”

You nodded in response and did as you were told before she helped you to stand up and maneuver towards it praying that you wouldn’t suddenly get dizzy or lightheaded.

Once you were settled, the three of you then made your way to the NICU.

It didn’t take long seeing as it was on the floor right below where you were in the intensive care unit right next to the postpartum unit where you were hoping to be soon once you were able to get a little bit stronger.

“And here we are. I know that they are just as excited to see you as you are to see them. They have the best doctors and nurses taking care of them.

Upon arriving, Lydia explained the need to do a surgical scrub of your hands and arms before entering not wanting any unnecessary germs causing harm to any of the babies.

Once she wheeled you into the room with Jack following close behind, you immediately knew which three were yours even if you saw them for mere seconds and one of them you hadn’t seen at all.

You were in front of Axel first and saw his tiny body taking small breaths and took in the sight of his curly hair that resembled Jack’s.

So that definitely explained the heartburn that you had throughout the entire time that you were pregnant with them.

You looked to Lydia to see if it was okay if you reached your hand in to touch him and she simply nodded.

Once you did, he immediately grabbed a hold of your finger as if telling you that he was okay.

“You have to admit that we made some cute babies.” Jack said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“True, but looking at Axel, I did most of the work.”

“I-... okay not arguing because I don’t want to end up sleeping on the couch.”

“Smart man.”

When Axel let your finger go, Ivy was next to him while Autumn was next to her on the end and looked over to see exactly what Jack was saying about her taking her oxygen off because she was fiddling with it. A few tears escaped, but you were in no way, shape, or form sad.

You were happy.

You lived to be able to see your triplets grow up and couldn’t wait to see what was in store for them and the amazing things that they would do.

“Babe, you okay?” Jack asked while peering down at you and seeing your face.

This time there was absolutely no hesitation in your answer.

“I’m more than okay, I’m happy.”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction

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melodyofthevoid · 1 year

Note

Can I gush about this one scene from the Dismemberment animatic? Apologies if I'm interpreting it in a different way than intended, but like. When the song stops and Heather stares in awe and dread of just a glimpse of Mariza's powers. I'm not sure if she knows what she's witnessing is just a fraction of a god's wrath, but man.

It really feels like all of Heather's posturing as the Biggest Baddest Bitch was totally shut down upon seeing actual magic in effect. Like in this moment, she realized she was dealing in forces she can't possibly understand, totally beyond her control. Heather thinks she's All That for hunting mermaids? Mermaids are just the tip of the iceberg that is a primordial force, a supernatural side of the world invoking gods and curses and other ancient things. And if Heather dives too deep, she'll be torn asunder.

It's just. The realization that the world is so much more vast and eldritch than you could've possibly imagined. The realization of how small and insignificant Heather actually is, that a tiny, clumsy glimpse of a god's power baffles her. And she can either cope by staying in her lane, playing it safe with what she knows, maybe even cancelling the trade altogether...

OR, Heather can double down in a desperate attempt to feel in control in a world that has suddenly expanded before her very eyes. Move up from harnessing mermaids to bigger things. And attempt to dabble in these ancient powers, risk encounters with them, in the hopes that she can get some of that power for herself, and not have to live under the constant reminder of how insignificant she is in the long run. How much mercy she's at.

Heather is, excuse the pun, out of her depth and it disturbs her, so she tries to resume professional business to get a sense of normalcy, routine, control. And she's totally lost it here. It's like watching a mob boss, threatening in real life, suddenly adapt to being considered a mundane inconvenience when transplanted to the Superhero genre; Nothing is the same after this.

You!!! You get it!!!! This is exactly it! That's exactly what we were intending with her reaction to the power of the ocean!

Heather has enjoyed unfettered power for quite some time, able to bend governments to her whims and be the top of the food chain. She knew better than to go on the ocean herself but she considered herself above hunting the mer herself anyways.

But now she knows that she's not invincible. If Mariza hadn't been focused on getting Delta to her ship she could've absolutely bodied Heather. While we don't have an exact next move for Heather prepared rn, she isn't done yet.

She's seen what's out there, and when she figures out how to harness it (so she thinks) she'll be unstoppable. She just has to plan.

#melody rambles #ocean idiots #you're the smartest motherfucker on this site anon

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nonsensical-ramblings · 2 years

Text

The Stranger Things OST is something we haven't been paying nearly enough attention to, because I think I've just found something monumental.

We all know these two scenes feature the same music:

But what we haven't been talking about is how the tracks in these four scenes all share the exact same melody-

Or that the tracks from these two scenes sync up perfectly to create an entirely new piece of music

But what if I told you this is only the very tip of the iceberg, because I've been sifting through evidence for quite a while now, and we are far past the point of this all just being a coincidence?

ahem.

Welcome to Soundtrackgate.

(AKA: The wild, wacky world where connections go way, way deeper than you could've possibly imagined, and it all still manages to lead back to byler in the end)

So, just by themselves, those three instances of matching soundtracks creating parallels between different scenes are pretty cool, and worthy of analysis. That's all well and good. But it gets a whole lot more complicated when I tell you that across those three examples, all the songs from those eight scenes I've pointed out match with each other too. The music playing during the J/ancy kiss syncs with the music from the R/ockie scene at the gun shop. The M/ileven kiss has music that syncs with the "It was a seven" scene. R/ockie making sandwiches has music in the background that syncs with the Byler van scene. They're all in the same key, B flat major.

I can prove that I'm not making this up in the form of some amazing mashups between four important OST songs. But before I show you those, let me take a step back and introduce you to the songs individually: Being Different, The First Lie, The First I love You, and Kids.

(I slowed them down so they're all the same speed). And I thought to myself, golly, these all sound pretty similar, they all have a pretty consistent pattern of eight quarter notes that get repeated over and over. (Listen closely, can you hear it?) I sure bet it would sound nice if someone combined them. So. I figured out how to edit audio and I did it myself XD

When I said they synced, I wasn't kidding. When I did my initial little experiment, I was not expecting the songs to, in no uncertain terms, match up perfectly, as if they were all variations of the same track, because the only thing I'd done was change the tempo a little bit between each of them. No splicing, no extra editing, no looping, no nothing. And they sound beautiful together!!! Here are my three favorites:

Putting all four together pushes my limits a bit and it comes out a tad messy, but I love it anyways. It's overwhelmingly clear that these four songs are meant to fit together.

So... what does this mean? The tracks are undeniably connected, and some of the scenes in which they occur are clearly parallels too. I mean, we've been ENDLESSLY analyzing parallels between R/ockie, Byler, and J/ancy, and this discovery lends more credit to the theory that those aren't just coincidences. But especially for major motifs like Kids, there are a lot more scenes where these songs play!! It's not just the few I mentioned at the beginning of the post that are pretty obvious in how they're similar to one another. Haha, but wouldn't it be crazy if ALL the scenes that these songs (and their variations) appear in followed the exact same narrative pattern; a pattern which would just so happen to offer extremely compelling evidence to the fact that Byler has been endgame since season 1?

Ha ha... ha... um.

They do.

All of them.

I'm not fucking joking. Out of the 22 scenes I've been able to track down which feature any of these four songs or variations of them, I've identified a pattern which every single one follows. Some definitely better than others... but it is un-fucking-deniable that this pattern exists and it has to be deliberate, because all of this being a coincidence must be some sort of statistical impossibility with the sheer amount of evidence I've amassed.

The pattern I'm referring to is a collection of four themes:

A misassumption / some form of dishonesty

Love. Often romantic, but sometimes platonic or familial

A subversion of expectations

An atypical relationship between two people

Often in that order.

So basically, we have a collection of scenes throughout all four seasons that are very strongly linked to each other, through both the music that plays during them, and the narrative pattern they follow. And theoretically, if we now know for a fact that each of these scenes follows the same pattern, we can use it to support our interpretations of moments like the van scene or "It was a seven"! (A pattern which, I'll remind you, will fall perfectly in line with Byler endgame)

Okay. So here, we get to the main chunk of the analysis. The hard data. I've gone through every relevant scene and listed how each of them fit the pattern, to prove that it's legit, and to use it to demonstrate how this discovery supports our theories! I've also added whether I think the scene matches well (✅), moderately well (🤔) , or poorly (❌) with the interpretation. (Keep in mind that even the ones that match poorly still relate to the themes in some way!) I sorted everything by motif, then into individual music pieces, then into scenes that feature that music. So scenes that have the same track playing in the background are grouped together.

Obviously, it's pretty long. I did my best to organize it well and make it as concise as possible. But that's why I'm adding a star (⭐️) next to all the scenes that explicitly support the Byler agenda, in case you want to scroll past the rest and only focus on what you came here for!

Without further ado, let's start out with...

The First Lie motif

The dominating melody in these tracks is: D D# D A# C F A# C

Track 1: The First Lie (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3S5-J7BLoIY)

Scene A: Jonathan And Nancy get together (S2E6) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/Dishonesty: Both of them are denying their feelings for each other • Love: And those feelings are romantic in nature • Subversion of expectations: They discover that their feelings are requited! • Atypical Relationship: Nancy, a popular and conventionally attractive character, ends up with Jonathan, the outcast

Track 2: The First I love You (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y68LnSZ_j3M)

Scene A: Robin and Steve talk in the Bathroom (S4E7) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/Dishonesty: Steve believes he has a chance with Robin, Robin hasn’t told him the whole truth about her sexuality • Love: Steve has feelings for her, she has feelings for Tammy, the two of them love each other as best friends • Subversion of expectations: Robin wants to kiss girls!!! And Steve is surprised, but wholly accepts her, even as a straight guy in the 80s • Atypical Relationship: Platonic soulmates <3

⭐️ Scene B: El Tells Mike she loves him and says goodbye (S4E8) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/Dishonesty: Their relationship had been damaged by the fact that Mike lied in order to avoid seeing her / getting into trouble with Hopper • Love: El forgives Mike, says that she loves him, and tries to repair their relationship • Subversion of expectations: El admits to having heard Mike when he said that he loved her, back in episode 6 • Atypical Relationship: It wouldn’t be very atypical for a straight guy to get back with his straight girlfriend after a brief break-up, would it? So maybe this relationship isn't as hetero as it- [gunshots]

Scene C: Joyce and Hopper Kiss (S4E9) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/Dishonesty: Up until this moment they’ve been dancing around each other since season 1, not quite being honest or upfront about how they feel • Love: But now they finally have their moment and make it official! • Subversion of expectations: We’ve seen it coming for years, sure, but considering where they started, their relationship was an unlikely one • Atypical Relationship: Joyce, the high-strung, divorced, single mom, and Hopper, the troubled, divorced, adoptive dad, certainly make a unique pair together

Kids motif

The dominating melody in these tracks is: G A# F A# G A# F A#, and/or F G F D C A# C A#

Track 1: Kids (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ha2OcL_0gtM)

⭐️ Scene A: The party finishes up their D&D game, “It was a seven” (S1E1) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Lucas urges Will to lie to Mike about his roll • Love: Little Will cares about his friendship with Mike too much to lie to him • Subversion of expectations: He’s honest, and admits that he only rolled a seven, even if it means he lost the campaign • Atypical relationship: Oh, you know. :)

Scene B: The kids disguise El so she can go out in public (S1E5) This scene doesn’t match very well ❌ • Misassumption/dishonesty: The kids are disguising El’s true identity so they can bring her to their school • Love: The four of them are beginning to trust one another; the boys trust El to help them find Will, they're bonding as friends • Subversion of expectations: The boys (but Mike specifically) are surprised with the degree of El's glowup • Atypical relationship: Mike thinks El is pretty, even though the rest of the party is still a little apprehensive towards her

Scene C: Mike, Lucas, and El make up after their fight in the previous episode (S1E7) This scene matches moderately well 🤔 • Misassumption/dishonesty: El had been misleading the boys to keep them away from the lab • Love: The friends are all sorry for what they did, and care too much about each other to stay mad • Subversion of expectations: They’re able to reconcile • Atypical relationship: Even after a pretty serious fight, the friends are back together again, stronger than ever

Scene D: The party finally gets to play D&D again at the end of season 1 (S1E8) This scene doesn’t match very well ❌ (But, it’s excusable because the main purpose it serves here is to parallel the first scene from episode 1- matching this narrative pattern is probably a secondary concern) • Misassumption/dishonesty: The campaign is over too soon, the kids feel like it’s not a truthful finale; there are loose ends left to be resolved in the story • Love: The friends are finally back together again, having fun, enjoying each others’ company, healing • Subversion of expectations: Will is able to defeat the monster this time • Atypical relationship: Even after everything they went through, they made it out OK and are still the best of friends

Scene E: Dustin reminds Mike to look for some change before going to the arcade (S2E1) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Mike avoids Dustin’s questions of why he’s on an unusual channel on the walkie talkie, and why he hasn’t been looking for quarters to bring to the arcade • Love: Mike is still grieving El • Subversion of expectations: He hadn’t been looking for quarters because he was busy trying to contact her • Atypical relationship: He still feels guilty for having lost her, more so than the rest of his friends. He believes she’s out there, even after a year has passed

Scene F: The kids work together to assemble Cerebro (S3E1) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: The kids don’t quite believe Dustin is being honest about actually having a girlfriend • Love: But he does! He actually is in a relationship • Subversion of expectations: Suzie doesn’t answer • Atypical relationship: A nerdy mormon and an agnostic with no collarbone; an unlikely pair!

Track 2: Kids Two (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PydvdEdGwE)

Scene A: El and Max spy on the boys (S3E3) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: The girls are secretly spying on the guys • Love: They’re talking about their relationship troubles • Subversion of expectations: They’re doing a terrible job of trying to win El and Max back; putting all the blame on the girls, talking about how they're a "different species", all while eating chips and generally being gross • Atypical relationship: Elmax bonds over having dumb ex-boyfriends, even after their friendship's rocky start in the previous season :3

Scene B: Robin sees Vickie at Warzone (S1E8) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Robin thinks she has a chance with Vickie • Love: She’s about to make a move and talk to her crush… • Subversion of expectations: …but Vickie has a boyfriend. • Atypical relationship: Queerness!! And the fact that Vickie gets distracted by Robin, probably has a bit of a crush on her too, even though she's currently in a relationship

Scene C: Robin & Vickie make sandwiches (S4E9) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Robin is initially fairly certain now that she DOESN’T have a chance with Vickie • Love: But unbeknownst to her, they're almost definitely endgame • Subversion of expectations: Vickie admits that she ended things with her boyfriend • Atypical relationship: Imminent 80s Lesbians!!!!!!!!

Track 3: Teens (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3JICAZAEBs)

Scene A: Suzie changes Dustin’s Latin grade (S4E1) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Suzie and Dustin are cheating his Latin grade by hacking into the school’s computer system • Love: The two of them are still together :3 • Subversion of expectations: Suzie decides that her relationship with Dustin is worth more than being entirely morally virtuous, so she changes the grade for him • Atypical relationship: The unlikely pair of the mormon and the agnostic strike again!

Track 4: In The Closet (At Rink O Mania) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lwl-HPNQFLc)

⭐️ Scene A: Mike and Will argue at the roller rink (S4E1) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Mike’s upset that Will and El haven’t been honest about the bullying • Love: Will just misses his best friend and is upset that their relationship / communication over the past year has been strained. And he’s in love. • Subversion of expectations: “We’re friends! We’re friends.”(AKA, Mike has been struggling with his feelings just as much as Will has) • Atypical relationship: Queerness!! We can be fairly certain now that they totally feel the same way about each other, even if neither will admit it.

Scene B: …but also El hides in the closet at the roller rink (S4E1) This scene matches moderately well 🤔 • Misassumption/dishonesty: El had been hiding the fact that she was being bullied • Love: This lie has has driven a wedge even deeper between her and her boyfriend • Subversion of expectations: She decides to go confront Angela • Atypical relationship: El, the humiliated victim, decides to stand up to her bully, Angela, instead of letting her get the final word

Track 5: Home (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdcV1u6RUh4)

Scene A: Hopper takes El in (S2E3) This scene matches moderately well 🤔 • Misassumption/dishonesty: Hopper wants to give El a place to stay where she can hide from the people looking for her / Hopper discreetly puts away a box labeled “Sarah”, hinting at a more personal reason for taking her in than he lets on • Love: He cares about El like he’d care for his own daughter • Subversion of expectations: Even though he's a supposedly hardened and lazy police chief, he cares about El enough to go through the effort of fixing up the cabin to give her a place to stay • Atypical relationship: Found family :’)

Scene B: This song also plays during the scene where Robin sees Vickie at Warzone (S4E8) This scene matches well! ✅ • [See Kids Two, scene B]

Track 6: What’s The Internet? (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vqx4idF4ObE)

Scene A: The Hellfire Club and Lucas’ team celebrate their victories (S4E1) This scene matches moderately well 🤔 • Misassumption/dishonesty: The basketball team and the Hellfire club both thought they were screwed • Love: Despite the looming potential for failure, everyone’s having fun and feeling included within their groups, they love their hobbies and their friends • Subversion of expectations: Both teams won their respective games despite the odds! • Atypical relationship: Lucas still hangs in the balance between the two teams, feeling unsure about which of his friend groups he should prioritize

Track 7: [Unreleased song, but the Kids motif is faintly audible towards the end]

⭐️ Scene A: El and Mike argue over Mike not being able to say “I love you” (S4E2) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/dishonesty: Mike’s refusing to acknowledge that he can’t say the words, he’s lying about how he really feels • Love: Their relationship as boyfriend/girlfriend is finally starting to show cracks, as its fundamental flaws are presented front and center • Subversion of expectations: Their relationship isn’t as perfect as we’d been led to believe • Atypical relationship: They’re on the verge of a breakup, but that's really what's best for the two of them

and finally...

Being Different Motif

The dominating melody in these tracks is: A# D F D A# D D# D, and/or A# D F A# D F A F

Track 1: Being Different (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_o29YLtS_NA)

⭐️ Scene A: Mike and Will talk in the van (S4E8) This scene matches well! ✅ • Misassumption/Dishonesty: Will lies, using El’s name to hide his own feelings • Love: And those feelings are his love for Mike :’( • Subversion of expectations: It’s now overwhelmingly clear that Will is canonically gay and in love with Mike • Atypical Relationship: Well, it doesn’t sound all that atypical for the sad gay boy to have fallen for his straight best friend (who is obviously straight because he’s in a relationship with a girl), so what if Mike- [gunshots]

Track 2: I Like Presents Too (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trSjkqM0VT4) (I’m not positive about this one, but I swear I hear similarities between Being Different and this song? Especially between 1:52 - 2:05 in Being Different, and 0:38 - 1:00 in this song)

⭐️Scene A: This song also plays during the scene where El Tells Mike she loves him and says goodbye (S4E8) This scene matches well! ✅ • [See The First I love You, scene B]

Okay. And that's all of them! I hope I've made my point. The fact that every single one of these 11 songs and the 22 scenes they appear in are connected both musically and thematically cannot be a coincidence. And by simply tracing the pattern, it's pretty easy to see that these connections hint at the fact that there's something more that we're not explicitly seeing between Mike, El, and Will's relationships, which has no other explanation besides Byler endgame. Let's review- by applying what we know about the pattern to Byler and M/ileven scenes, we can infer that:

When El kisses Mike at the end of season 3, it isn't meant to be taken at face-value. There's something atypical about their relationship, and it's the fact that despite saying the words, it doesn't change the fact that neither of them are in love with each other, not romantically, even if they think they should be.

When Will tells Mike he rolled a seven and lost the battle in the first episode of season 1, it's more than just Will being a good friend. There's a deeper connection- something atypical compared to Will's relationships with his other friends, because this is Will being in love with Mike before he even understood what those feelings meant.

During their fight at Rink O Mania in season 4, they're not just arguing about Will being dishonest or Mike not staying in touch. There's something deeper under the surface that they're dancing around, unaddressed feelings on both ends, something more atypical than just two friends who drifted apart. At the root of their frustration is the fact that they both believe the other doesn't feel the same.

Mike said it himself- when he and El argue over the fact that he can't say "I love you" to her, this was a fight they can't come back from. Because it's been made clear to them that their relationship isn't romantic anymore, it's atypical in the sense that they realize this whole thing between them has just been a heteronormative charade they were pressured into, rather than something they really wanted or needed.

When Will delivers his veiled love confession in the back of the van in season 4, we're led to believe that this is him ripping off the bandaid, because Mike is supposedly happiest with El and he'll never see Will the way Will sees him. But this interpretation is incorrect, because there's something very very atypical about the way Mike stares longingly into Will's eyes, completely mesmerized, in a way that he's never looked at his own girlfriend despite allegedly being so in love with her. Mike is in love, but there's no denying anymore that the love he feels is for Will, not El.

Of course, none of these interpretations of these scenes are new or anything. But the fact that we now have solid proof that all of them are actually intentionally connected? They all share linked music and follow the same pattern?? That, I think, is revolutionary.

But of course we're not done yet.

Because as lengthy as it is, this isn't a finished analysis. Now, if you've made it this far into my mad and delusional (yet strongly supported by evidence) rantings and ravings, you're probably just as excited about this breakthrough as I am. So if you're thinking about exploring the theory yourself, I have a few suggestions on where to start, because there's a good number of things that I haven't fully looked into yet! Most notably, there are several tracks that sound like they almost fit with the ones I already identified as being part of soundtrackgate, or they have similar vibes, but just aren't similar enough to make it into the list. Some of them I've tried to mix with The First Lie, Kids, etc, but came up empty-handed. There songs are:

Journalistic Instinct

Boys and Girls

Feel Safe

First Kiss

Presumptuous

My BOOBS Hurt

A Kiss

I wouldn't remember me either

Eight Fifteen

Walkin in Hawkins (i really really really hate this song for no justifiable reason please don't make me listen to it any more than I had to this is my one exception)

This Isn't You

Blank Makes You Crazy

Weirdly enough, out of these twelve, there are exactly three tracks from each season. Does that mean anything? No clue. Odd, though.

For all you eightfifteengate truthers, I tried really, really hard to mix the track Eight Fifteen with any of the established songs... but all I got was a pretty resounding muddy mess of a failure. Which sucks, because it sounds like it should work! Unfortunately, I don't think Eight Fifteen is part of soundtrackgate. However! I did notice that it sounds very very similar to the track Presumptuous, which is interesting. Here's the best I got, for what it's worth:

If you want to take another look at these songs and try to prove me wrong, please do!! Maybe there's a pattern within them that I didn't catch. And if you ask, I'll be happy to try my hand at combining any tracks you think would work together!

Other than that, there are a few interesting little details I noticed while perusing the OST. Maybe they mean something, maybe they don't, but I thought they were worth mentioning! Feel free to investigate if any of these pique your interest:

Like I mentioned earlier, Eight Fifteen and Presumptuous both contain the same melody

Blank Makes You Crazy and I Need You to Trust Me are both songs tied to scenes where we see evidence of the stained relationship between Mike and El, and they’re both in the same key; F Major

Not Kids Anymore plays during the Byler rain fight in s3, AND when Dustin and Mike refuse to go to Lucas’ game in s4

As far as I can tell, the song Destroying The Castle only plays one time other than when Will takes a bat to Castle Byers- it also plays in S4E9 when Hopper is about to use himself as bait for the demodogs, but assures Joyce that he’ll be alright

On The Bus almost definitely does not match with any of the other songs, but I feel like this particular track is important and worth looking into regardless, so I’m mentioning it here.

You’re The Heart does not sound similar, mix well with, or parallel Being Different, let alone ANY of the established soundtrackgate songs. I just don’t hear it, sorry.

Eulogy and Letter to Willy sound very very similar

Journalistic Instinct and Boys and Girls sound very very similar

Still Pretty, the song that plays in season 1 when Mike reassures El that she looks pretty without the wig, also plays in season 4 while they talk in the pizza shop, right before they get interrupted by Argyle.

Okay. I think that covers it, for now. Thank you so much for reading, seriously, I poured my soul into this so it means a lot!!! I hope it all made enough sense. MASSIVE shoutout to what-song.com for its list of all the songs that appear in each ST episode, in order, complete with listing what minute each song appears in, providing a 30-second sample of each song, and a description of the scene that occurs during it. It SAVED MY LIFE no joke. Also big shoutout to bilibili.tv, my platform of choice for sailing the seven seas of content of questionable legality; I used it liberally to pull up all the scenes I had to analyze lol

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