#the second one is from the devil ending bc it's all i could think of during that scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karajaynetoday · 2 months

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nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes

author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger

read part one here

read part two here

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently.

But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.

You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next.

Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.

It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.

As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes.

Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls.

“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily.

You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes.

Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.

“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.

Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.

“How long is your break for? Any plans?”

“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass.

“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react.

You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge.

“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.”

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight?

“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.

You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze.

“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins.

“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.

Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.

“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.”

“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.

“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”

–

Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake.

Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids.

Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you.

“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense.

You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack.

You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.

“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy.

Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind.

“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.

You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires.

Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor.

You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you.

You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.

What do you mean?

You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!

…

This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!

You caught him on a bad night.

This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?

I don't know. I don't know…

“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump.

“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.

Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you.

You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.

The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably.

“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you.

“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.

“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably.

The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat.

Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.

“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves.

Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves.

“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room.

“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.

“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”.

“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.

“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath.

“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders.

“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.”

You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.

“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing.

“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you.

“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room.

“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face.

“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you.

“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face.

Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder.

You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #new jersey devils #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #my writing #nhl fanfiction

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pupyuj · 7 months

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[cw: g!p, threesome, noncon to dubcon, corruption, manipulation, cheating, oral, deepthroattttt, throatfucking, facefucking, exhibitionism i think]

going back on the fallderz "i can take them at the same time" post... JUST THINK ABOUT ITTTTT 😩😩😩

okok dance team au where you're their cute underclassman and they both adore you 😚 like they dote on you, praise you so much when you do something well in practices, and they're always so affectionate??? ☹️💞 but you have no idea what they do to the thought of you behind closed doors... they jerk off to you. a lot. at the same time!! and they secretly take pics of you half-naked in the changing rooms and then get off to them 😵‍💫 but unfortunately, you were in a relationship... and they didn't like that at all.. esp when your partner started taking you to your practices and picking you up from them.. leaving you little to no time to hang out w yuj and gaeul at the end of the day ☹️☹️

being the evil girls that they are, yujin and gaeul devised a plan... they deceived you and made you come over at yujin's house for a routine she wanted to 'teach' you but nope! before you knew it, you were forced down on your knees with your hands restrained behind your back,, looking up at yujin and gaeul who had their giant cocks out in the air in front of you,,, "you know what to do... don't you, (y/n)-ah?" gaeul asks, petting your head as her tip drew closer to your lips. you shook your head and tried to move back, but yujin was quick to keep your head still. "open up." gaeul was saying as she tapped her dick on your lips??? you absolutely refused.. but that was okay bcs yujin easily forced your mouth open, and gaeul doesn't waste any time and shoves her cock down your throat, not even giving you a second to adjust to her insane size,,,

"f-fuck..." gaeul holding your head with her hands,, using your mouth like it was your pussy,, relentless thrusting her hips onto your face without a care in the world,, she needed to get off and she was going to do it no matter what :(( doesn't matter that you're choking and gagging on her cock, or that you were scratching at her thighs begging for her to stop or at the very least slow down—she was going to use you, and you were going to learn how to fucking deal with it 🫢🫢

meanwhile, yujin was hard as a rock seeing her best friend/team captain fuck your face like no tomorrow,,, so she takes one of your hands and wraps it around her cock,, "get to work, (y/n)." she said, and so you moved your hand up and down her length,, it was a challenge though, bcs every time gaeul hits the back of your throat your mind goes blank,, but you still tried your best,, running your thumb over yujin's slit and making her moan loudly,, "s-so this is how your hand f-feels... fuck, so much better..." yujin was holding your wrist in a death grip, keeping your hand on her cock so she could finally come properly,,

gaeul thrusting even faster?? pulling and tugging at your hair,, "g-god... (y/n)-ah..." gaeul deciding that she'd like to paint you with her cum,, pulling out before she came,, dumping her load all over your face and chest with a loud moan,, see, you'd think that they would give her a break after all of that but no! yujin wasn't getting any closer to coming with using only your hand,, so she goes ahead and pulls your hair, making you face her and then she fills up your mouth with her dick,, doing the same thing as gaeul but so much rougher, as if that was possible... then gaeul was stroking her cock, her cum still spurting our of her dick and falling on your chest,, she finds pleasure in seeing you covered w her mess 🫣

"b-bet their cock doesn't feel as good as ours, huh?" yujin was saying,, she smiles down at you, so fucking handsome but god, she's the literal devil. both of them. "look at you, i don't even have to do anything anymore..." she said as she watched you suck her off on your own,,, you ignored her and continued your work just how she, and gaeul, liked it—slow but so fucking deep. looking up at yujin with only pleasure and desperation in your eyes,, did you even know what you were doing anymore?? god, do you even remember that there was someone waiting in your dorm for you???

the answer was obviously no, and both gaeul and yujin were so fucking happy to be aware of that fact 😣

yujin spilling her cum down your throat,, filling your mouth full of her cum that some of it slips out and drenched your chin and chest even more,,, "swallow all of it." gaeul said as yujin pulled out,, you did as you were told,, gulping up yujin's cum like the good girl they were molding you to be,, thinking they were done.. allowing yourself to relax a bit but then gaeul was fucking your face again,,

now you were crying,, it just settled in your dumb little head how wrong this all was,, how wrong it was for you to like it when you were in a relationship,, and of course gaeul gets on your ass for this... "forget about them, (y/n)-ah... you don't need anybody else but us..." she was saying, petting your hair and smiling down at you,, she made you feel warm inside.. but that dark look in her eyes made you so scared of her that you just took what she gave you without any resistance...

"speaking of which," yujin takes your phone from the ground and shows you the screen,, your partner was calling... presumably to ask you where the fuck you have been,, "gaeul-unnie, should we show them how good our pet is?" yujin asks but she didn't even have to!! gaeul sits down on the floor and beckons you to come closer to her, and she gives you a kiss on the forehead before she grabs you and makes you suck her off again,, while you were on your knees, yujin saw this as the perfect opportunity to fucking ram her cock inside your pussy,, christ, she caught you so off guard you nearly bit gaeul's cock,,,

"s-so tight! ahh—fuck..." yujinnie gripping your ass with one hand and holding your phone on the other,, she grins widely before answering your partner's call with the camera turned on... and what your partner saw was your pussy being abused by yujin from behind while you're giving your dance captain head,, yujin doesn't even say anything to expand on the situation to your partner, doesn't even say something snarky or smug,, she just moans and moans and swears as she slammed her dick inside you 😵‍💫😵‍💫

at this point you didn't even care anymore!! yujin ending the call as she came inside you,, dropping your phone on the floor while she collapsed on your back, "you're ours now, (y/n)... don't even think about them anymore." yujin whispers in your ear, helping you take gaeul's full length and somehow finding it in her sick little head to fucking laugh at you as you cried,,

do they care that they've just ruined you and your relationship? not at all! all they care about was turning you into their pretty fuckdoll, and that you will become—they'll make sure of it 🫣🤭💕

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shugar0cone · 3 months

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“Are we bad people”

-summary-

A y/n x Alastor story where they where the killers Alastor was reporting. Oh and y/n is questioning it.

About a month ago I found out my husband was the killer he obsessed about. My reaction was dumb except for throwing up from the realization on his deer meat being off. I could not believe what I seen but at the same time I knew deep deep down he was it, but i could not come to the term of it. I loved my husband more deep than I should have.

“Alastor?” I looked at him, I never had fear over this man, sure he could kill me but if he wanted too he could, we slept in the same bed for Christ sake. “Yes, my dear.” He was digging the hole for Mr.Johnson, he cheated on his wife when he was on a business trip, too much fat to get real proteins out of him. “Why.” I really had to think of how to word this. He was bi polar snapping from the Alastor I know to the Alastor of the night in the shed. “Why, do we murder.” He stopped his shovel. I tensed, my screams couldn’t be heard this far out, animals would eat me in seconds, and if I ran fuck what am I saying mans got legs of a giraffe. I held alastors shot gun, I was scared, for the first time in my life. The owls stoped hooting, crickets went silent. “Darling.” I snapped out of my thoughts. “We kill the bad people.” I thought about it, he was right. We killed from the whores to child abusers. We did kill the bad, but does that make us good?

Surprise surprise we both ended up in hell. I constantly thought about that night. The night of why, why we killed. Maybe now it’s different, for him it’s power, fear, and entertainment. I just wanted to punish the bad. I was feared as much as AL, having a small area in the pentagram. It was the cleanest and most organized area anyone who disobeyed and called out they met with ME, then never was seen again.

It was late one night. I watched over my people or citizens I don’t know how to put it. Deep in thought, wondering what I’ll do for this, that, and more normal overloard shit.

“Darling why all the sulking!” He popped up out of nowhere I was used to it by this point. “I’m not sulking hun.” I pushed my hair back. “Just.” I breathed out. “Watching the devil ducks fly or..” I cut down twords two ducks fight the other bitting its head off. “What ever those freaks do.” I laughed. “Ah.” He stood right next to me. “I hate it when ya lie, darling.” He got frustrated. “I know you.” He said laughing. He grabbed my chin, looking at me. His eyes made contact with mine, I looked down ashamed of what I’m going to say

“Are we the bad people…”

A/N: Wow! I like this honestly it’s hard bc I’m used to putting oc’s names and not y/n and some might be vague anyways thanks for reading hun!

-Shugar

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel

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chelseeebe · 7 months

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gasoline.

so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)

this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins

wc: 12k+ oops

‎♡‧₊˚

Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad.

Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you.

Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?

You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens.

Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant.

“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”

“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment.

“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down.

It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.

You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you.

“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end.

You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait.

It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen.

“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.

“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.”

“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.”

“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare.

“No.”

You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.

His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew.

“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight.

“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on.

There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact.

Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve.

Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way.

You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside.

The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now.

“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations.

You never were one for confrontation.

He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”

Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”

“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?”

“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved.

The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen.

His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out.

“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”

Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.

Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him.

Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off.

Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something.

Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it.

It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning.

Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this.

“So I was thinking..”

“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means.

You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate.

“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.”

His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas.

You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?”

He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival.

“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you.

“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself.

Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all?

No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!

There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile.

“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame.

“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off.

It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover.

“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied.

You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point..

“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude.

It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up

“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.”

“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him.

You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake.

The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook.

“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes.

He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list.

You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander.

“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document.

“No, what were you gonna say?”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on.

You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?

“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office.

“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.

“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far.

He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world.

“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke.

“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could.

“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face.

You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact.

He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours.

Oh shit.

It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness.

Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression.

“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid.

His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek.

“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim.

His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth.

You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness.

The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway.

You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear.

You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak.

Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid.

Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing.

He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh.

A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo.

You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here.

“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it.

Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”

He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline.

“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet.

His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt.

Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin.

“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down.

“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance.

You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging.

His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that?

Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more.

“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it.

Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing.

“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours.

Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm.

“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees.

His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh.

Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said.

“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?”

You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself.

Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck.

A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.

“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.”

“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet.

“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs.

“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here.

“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping.

Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list.

“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio.

“So? Did you?”

He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation.

“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure.

“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records.

“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”

Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things.

“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him.

You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early.

“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter.

“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you.

“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up.

He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks.

“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair.

You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night.

Hello,

I hope this email finds you well.

I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th.

Thank you,

Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star

Oh shit oh fuck oh balls.

It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business.

“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now.

“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?”

“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear.

“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it.

You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-”

Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth.

“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline.

“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke.

“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”

“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?”

You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave.

“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist.

“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look.

“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.

Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.

- p2

You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on.

It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on.

But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber.

“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude.

He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote.

“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring.

“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks.

You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom.

“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table.

It was not.

“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face.

He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself.

“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.”

Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms.

You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand.

The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school.

“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse.

“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement.

You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had.

“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load.

“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card.

“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot.

“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron.

“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out.

“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.”

“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door.

“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation.

“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words.

“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant.

It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course.

“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken.

“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you.

“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?”

“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.”

“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.”

“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?”

“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever.

“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway.

You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you.

“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office.

“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it.

“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?”

“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him.

“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk.

“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval.

He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in.

“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend.

“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less.

“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.”

“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.”

You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?”

He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.”

Eddie, in fact, does not drop it.

He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on.

“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side.

“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off.

“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back.

“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow.

“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.”

“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness.

“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder.

You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up.

It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.

You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here.

Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late.

“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?”

He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?”

“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you.

You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything.

“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief.

You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be.

“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself.

“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?”

“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table.

“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back.

You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was.

His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table.

Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head.

“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.”

“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring.

“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?”

He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.”

“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.”

He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.”

“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time.

eds:) : when r u coming back??

eds:) : helloooo?

eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work

eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u

Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?”

You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply.

Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door.

“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working.

“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist.

“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog.

“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm.

“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.”

You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest.

Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust.

You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.

It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought.

He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something?

His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner.

“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion.

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it.

“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window.

Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips.

His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it.

It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that.

The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it.

He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance.

Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that.

“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name.

“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor.

His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie.

“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest.

Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine.

The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning.

Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering.

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor.

Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve.

“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino.

“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?”

You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.”

He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years.

Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.”

“He a handful?”

“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on.

“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn.

“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.

He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile.

Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.

In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to.

Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there.

“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor.

“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table.

“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far.

“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door.

Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy.

He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him.

You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed.

“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word.

“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin.

His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct.

“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie.

He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?”

“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you.

He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust.

You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office.

“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?”

“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean.

“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you.

Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.”

It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend.

“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.”

Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you.

“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall.

Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free.

If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly.

You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words.

And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter.

Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley.

He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different.

“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.”

Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much.

“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.”

Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting.

“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger.

“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words?

“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed.

Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know.

“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you.

“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration.

A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.

Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say.

“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution.

You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?”

“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently.

“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus.

He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it.

You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already.

“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them.

Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway.

“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve.

You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him.

“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin.

If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick.

You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two.

That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be.

It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left.

“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later.

He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry!

Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished.

He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen.

“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins.

He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin.

“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you.

“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him.

Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you.

“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief.

“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment.

There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you.

Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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angelic-sturniolos111 · 6 months

Text

Halloweekend 😈

It’s your first time back in LA since your sleazy ex-boyfriend cheated on you. During your visit you’re invited with friends to a big Halloween house party. You take advantage of this opportunity as a way to bring your confidence back up by wearing a sl*tty costume. Your friend, Matt Sturniolo, can’t keep his eyes off of you the whole night…

matthew sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety/ anxiety attacks, alcohol, marijuana/ drugs, suggestive sexual content

reader’s costume: https://pin.it/1ROVZdj

author’s note: I usually don’t like including pictures of what the reader is supposed to be wearing because everyone has a different body type, race, preference, etc… so please imagine yourself however you’d like but the pic is just for reference! also, there’s a text chain in this fic where orange text= Chris, blue= Matt, and purple= Nick (duh).

did not proofread this bc I’m lazy

You had been struggling with your confidence since your boyfriend of several months had cheated on you with some skimpy instagram model the last time you two went to LA together. After the break-up you had been constantly texting your best friend Matt Sturniolo because he knew you better than anyone— better than your ex ever did. You two grew up in Boston and became close friends in high school before the onset of his online success with his brothers. You were one of the few Boston friends he had who stuck close by and supported him through everything, and the three always invited you to LA to visit them whenever you could. You wanted to get away for a bit to get your mind off your ex and cure your shitty mood, and so Matt helped you book a flight out as you planned to stay with them in LA for a little bit. You’ve stayed with them in LA multiple times and subsequently became friends with LA girls like Madi Filipowicz and Paige Taylor.

You were currently out shopping with Madi and Paige for a last-minute Halloween costume. It was Halloweekend, and Madison Beer was hosting a big house party and invited the three of you and the triplets.

“Guys I don’t know… I’m kinda having second thoughts about going tonight.” You said hesitantly.

“Um no, absolutely not! We’re going to find the sexiest costume for you and you’re going to go and have all the guys fawning over you. Plus I already bought j’s for all of us so you can’t back out now.” Paige replies in a demanding tone.

“And Matt will be there too soooo…” Madi says suggestively.

“Okay for the millionth time nothing will ever happen between Matt and I! We’ve been friends too long and I just don’t think he sees me in that way.” You say back.

There was no doubt that you always had feelings for Matt, but you never acted on them afraid of ruining the friendship and losing him forever. So, you kept your mouth shut and tried to suppress these feelings by dating one douchebag after another which always ended disastrously. Madi and Paige were the only two who knew about your long-term crush on Matt and they’re always encouraging you to make a move or ask him out, but you’re afraid that just won’t ever happen.

“Whatever.” Madi laughs. “Come on, let’s try these on and we’ll get each others input and see which one looks best on each of us.”

***

In the dressing room you had tried on costumes like “sexy nun,” “sexy devil,” “playboy bunny,” but you just weren’t feeling yourself in any of them. You opened and tried on the last costume in your basket. It was a sexy, lacy maids costume with thigh-high stockings and a cute lace choker with a bow. You spun around looking at yourself in the mirror from every angle, and honestly, you felt sexy as fuck. The skirt ended just below your ass making the bottom it peak out ever so slightly while the apron cinched your waist and the scoop neck accentuated your boobs nicely. You get a light knock at the door.

“Hey, find anything yet?” You hear Madi say. You open the door to the fitting room and step out into view with a smile plastered on your face.

“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely.” Paige says making you smile even more.

***

The three of you were in Madi’s room making final adjustments to your hair and makeup before calling an Uber. You couldn’t lie, you were actually looking forward to having Matt see you dressed up like this. You felt so sexy and hot and hoped Matt would see you in the same way.

“Alright. Last one before we head out the door,” Paige says handing you and Madi each a shot. “Cheers!” You throw your head back as the liquid burns your throat and nose and you shaking your head a bit to alleviate the sting.

Calling Uber now see you soon! You texted in the group chat with you and the triplets.

Omfg about time u girls take foreverrrrr

Word

Cool we’re in the backyard rn we’ll wait here for you!

You step out of the Uber and follow the girls up the walkway to the front door leading yourselves in and greeting familiar faces as you walk through the house to the back porch. You get outside and see Chris already playing pong with Nate as Nick stands by their side chatting away with Madison. “Hey guys!” You say as Nick turns to you reaching to you for a hug.

“Oh my god you girls look fucking stunning!” Nick says to you Madi and Paige eliciting a thank you from everyone. Madi and Nick hug and get to talking while Madison and Paige do the same.

“Hey Y/N looking good! Nice to see you again!” Nate says politely extending his arm out for a side hug. You looked next to him to see Chris concentrating on his next shot before releasing the ball and sinking it into a cup across the table.

Chris turns to look at you and his eyes widen slightly. “Woah when the fuck did this happen?” He says putting his hands up.

“When did what happen?” You laugh.

“When did you get hot as fuck all of a sudden?” Chris says and you roll your eyes playfully— although his comment definitely made you feel good.

“Hey I’ve always been hot as fuck so thanks for finally noticing!” You say as the two of you reached out to hug one another. “Where’s Matt?” You had scanned the backyard and didn’t catch sight of him.

“Ummm not sure he was out here a minute ago.”

“Y/N! Come on we’re gonna go spark up over by the pool. Chris, you got a light on you?” Paige pushed between the two of you interrupting.

Chris reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter handing it to her, “Always.” He says with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Thanks you’re the best! Okay come on let’s go!” Paige grabs your arm and starts leading the way over to the pool.

“But— Wait I. Ugh… okay.” You sigh and give in letting her pull you through the crowd. She leads you to the area behind the pool slide where you see Madi and Nick already waiting for you two. Paige pulls the joints out of her bag and hands one to each of us, and gives Madi the lighter first to pass down the line. They light up, and once the lighter is passed into your hand you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“May I?” You turn around and are greeted by the piercing ice blue eyes of Matt Sturniolo. You smile, passing him the lighter and putting the joint up to your mouth as he covers the end with his hand and lights it for you. Something about this gesture, and his large hands wrapped on the lighter, was really doing it for you. You take a puff, inhaling and feeling your shoulders and body relax a bit.

“Well you definitely look different than how I last saw you this morning.” Matt smiles, laughing lightly.

“Mmhm well I hope it’s good different.” You reply. You were testing the waters being a little flirty with Matt for the first time.

“Oh yeah… very good.” He says as his eyes trail up and down your body making heat rise in your chest.

***

The two of you continued to talk, passing the joint back and forth, and you couldn’t help but notice Matt’s unusual behavior. Every time you turned away and back to him you caught his eyes already planted on some part of your body before he’d move them back up to meet yours. It was obvious he was checking you out, and this only boosted your confidence even more.

“Come on let’s grab a drink.” You tossed the remainder of the joint and grab Matt’s hand and started walking. He entangled his fingers in yours as you walked. Pushing through the crowd you take a look back at Matt to see that his eyes were glued to your ass that became repeatedly visible with each step you took. You smile to yourself and bring him into the kitchen with you. It definitely wasn’t as crowded inside the house and you used that opportunity to try and have a little more privacy with Matt. You watch as Matt pours drinks into both your cups, and turns handing yours back to you.

“Do you want to go in the living room with me? Sit on the couch for a bit?” You asked Matt. He smiles, and this time he goes to grab your hand as he leads you towards the living room. You both slightly stop in your tracks once you enter the room.

“Hey there he is! Dude come sit with us you have to listen to this story!” Says Chris to Matt from the couch as he’s surrounded by friends standing or sitting on the floor in a circle. You hear Matt let out a small sigh before he sits next to Chris on the couch, and you next to Matt. Chris was going on and on with some crazy story from a Lil Skies concert with everyone listening intently, including Matt. It was painful having him sit right next to you in this moment because with your costume, the alcohol, and the weed you were feeling pretty hot and heavy. Chris continued on with his story leaving no room for you to interject, and you were dying to get Matt’s attention somehow. You waited for a brief pause in Chris’s speech to interrupt.

“Anyone need me to throw out or refill their cups? I figured it’s the least I could do given my current costume.” You say laughing lightly. The group laughs and nod as they reach for their cups. You get off the couch and go over to the guys sitting on the floor, and you bend over to grab their cups. You make sure to bend over right across from Matt ensuring he could get a perfect view up your small skirt. You collect the cups and turn back around to see Matt uncomfortably shifting in his seat as his face was blushing.

You leave to the kitchen to throw out most of the cups and refill a few drinks, and when you come back into the living room you see your previous seat next to Matt was occupied by some girl. She had her hand on his shoulder as she chatted him up.

That’s when you notice the girl sitting next to him is the same one your ex cheated on you with when you were in LA together.

You feel a ping in your chest and your stomach sinks. You put the cups down on the coffee table and turn away swiftly walking out of the living room. You scan your surroundings and feel your anxiety kicking in. Your heart starts racing, and your breathing becomes quicker and more staggered. You frantically walk through the crowd trying to find some sort of bathroom or bedroom you could be alone in. You find a door in the corner of the kitchen and open it to find a staircase leading to the basement. You close the door behind you and walk down the steps, turning on the light to see a couch with a television set and some speakers. You sit on the couch and put your hand on your chest, feeling your heartbeat, and take a deep breath to try and control your breathing. A tear slips out from your eye and rolls down your cheek. All the confidence that you had built up tonight had just been shattered. You genuinely thought, for the first time ever during your friendship, that Matt might have seen you as more than the friend he has from high school. Stupid. I’m so fucking stupid for ever believing in some fantasy that Matt would have feelings for me. You thought to yourself as you quietly cried. You stayed like this for several minutes before you hear a door close and footsteps making their way down the stairs. You look and see Matt with an incredibly concerned look on his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you and someone said they saw you come down here. Are you okay?” He says in a soft tone. He comes and sits closely next to you on the couch as he places his hand on your back, gently rubbing it. You swallow the lump in your throat, and exhale deeply before speaking.

“I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t been feeling great about myself since my ex cheated. I know we talked about this already and I said I was fine, but the girl he cheated on me with is this super skinny and hot instagram model… the one you were talking with on the couch actually.” You pause and look at Matt and he looks down for a moment. “And seeing who he cheated on me with, how she’s way prettier than me, has just made me feel bad about myself lately.” You say choking slightly on your words as you let more tears spill from your eyes.

Matt places his hands on your shoulders and gently turns for you to face him.

“Y/N, you wouldn’t believe the amount of eyes I’ve seen on you tonight. You are so beautiful. Stunning! And her? She’s an annoying bitch that none of us like anyways, especially me which is why I left right after she came to talk to me. Annoying bitch with your stupid fucking douche of an ex makes much more sense than the two of you being together. He didn’t deserve you at ALL. I was always telling my brothers how shifty and rude I thought he was, and I never liked him. He didn’t treat you the way you should been treated.” Matt says sternly.

“Thank you. I thought maybe tonight would’ve made me feel better. I couldn’t give less of a fuck what other guys were staring besides—” You cut yourself off. In your impaired state you were nearly about to tell Matt how you feel about him.

“Besides?” Matt interrupts your thoughts and his eyes scan your face. Waiting for an answer. You let out a deep sigh. Your lack of inhibitions getting the better of you.

“Besides you. I thought I might’ve caught you eyeing me up and down, or at least I was hoping you were. I’ve always had feelings for you, and I thought you didn’t feel the same until tonight. I took your glances as something more serious than it is. In reality I know it’s not like that, and I’m sorry.” Matt’s hands came off your shoulders and you look to see his face dropped sadness present in his expression. There was a long pause before his hand reached up to cup my cheek. His eyes flickered from mine down to my lips. He leans in and places a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back and speaking,

“Y/N, it is like that. I have always had feelings for you, but my anxieties and fears always get the better of me and I’ve never been able to tell you. God, I have been on edge all night just being in your presence because yes, I was eyeing you up and down, and this costume is driving me absolutely fucking wild.” He says as he places a hand on my thigh and gently caresses the lace of my stocking with his thumb. “Trust me I’ve been wanting to make a move on you all night, but I didn’t want you to think I wanted you in that way because with you I want so much more. I want everything. I want you.” He says sincerely, his eyes locking with yours.

You didn’t even give it a second thought before you crashed your lips onto his. He immediately kissed you back. The kiss got deeper and you gently bite his bottom lip and pull away. Matt groans as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck and pulls you in close for a passionate kiss, his tongue roaming the inside of your mouth. His other hand slides up your thigh making you whine and you move to straddle his lap. He puts his hands on the outside of your thighs, and you slide his hands backwards to land on your ass where he gives it a rough squeeze… making you whine and him moan into your mouth. He takes one hand and slides it up the nape of your neck, grabbing your hair and pulling your face away from his breaking the kiss. You look into Matt’s lust blown eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” He softly whispers in your ear sending a chill down your spine…

**********

I haven’t made an archive of our own acc yet but when I do I am thinking an absolutely filthyyyyy part two. 🫣 no promises.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #let’s trip tour #versus tour #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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pisspope · 9 months

Text

rei and zeke bday hcs cause like,,, why not (but also bc its what the ppl voted for)

tw: implied sex, references to canon typical violence

zeke

- its not that his parents didn’t celebrate his birthday at all its just,,, it was usually a small affair with influential PTA members and their kids. in other words, no one zeke got along with. very much a “seen not heard” while the grown ups sip mimosas type deal

- and of course zeke does everything in service of disappointing his parents so!!! its party time

- honestly u could try to throw a surprise party but good fucking luck this man is snoopy as all hell. every time ur out just a little too long with pieck or porco (they’re bickering over how early to buy balloons) he’s got u on the horn like “i know ur planning something”. would never accuse u of cheating bc he fully believes his own hype and knows u wouldnt DARE cheat on Adonis Himself (Narcissus more like but w/e)

- so yeah he’s probably at least a little involved in the planning of it all, wants to backseat drive because hes “not a loser who plans his own birthday party”. sending u screenshots from his notes app with his favorite colors, songs, what cake he wants, etc. lowkey insufferable

- day comes and you’ve rented out the kid’s bday party section of a bowling alley/arcade and filled it with every friend you can think of that isn’t vaguely shitty or hasn’t been burned by zeke in some way. so like… maybe 10 people, gabi and the kids included so they have a believable cover story if the staff asks who the party’s for. not that they’d care but zeke loves to play like he’s so sNeAkY and sHiFty by telling everyone it’s a party for udo or something.

- that man can BOWL and he’s an ass about it. the sorest winner in the world. in every universe he will knock down 10 or more little dudes with a rock and cheer and whoop and holler like an idiot. jeering at porco when he gets a gutter ball and you see reiner pull him aside like “just let him have it today. its his big day.” as if it is not ALSO reiner’s big day

- played with the idea of him getting a devil’s food cake and reiner getting an angel’s food cake for the lolz but he’s not sharing a party on his life so. coffee cake 100%, both because he likes it and because the kids don’t, which means more to take home. schemer that he is

- does ask for gifts but is pretty insistent about it being under 20 dollars (so he can see who overspent and ACTUALLY loves him. male manipulator). falco gets him an officially licensed sock monkey and he cries (pussy). whispering to u after that if his parents ever die horribly he’ll adopt him

- heading to the connected arcade after and, second verse same as the first, he kills at skee ball. breaks the record on each machine one after the other just to show off, gets all smirky holding the wad of tickets, talking about how he “does it all for uuuuu” and gives u the wettest sloppiest kiss on the cheek just to embarrass u

- does actually give u all his winnings tho. the high score, the posterity, the want to be remembered,,, the ego boost is enough, u can have the 2100 ticket pikachu plush <3 (u will never hear the end of this. i pity u)

- def gets home with his leftover dessert in hand and gifts in bags on his wrist, smile more genuine than usual. opening the door and letting u in, gifts and food quickly forgotten in lieu of giving you a proper thank you for helping put all this together

- 100% squeezing ur ass and asking if there’s any leftover cake for him, knowing it’ll make u roll your eyes but that you’ll relent bc the cheese is part of the charm (and boy when he gets that treat he asked for? he EATS)

reiner

- something something something same birthday complete opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of how they celebrate it

- wants his bday to be a nice quiet affair with the people he loves most, his little found family and maybe karina if hes feeling generous that year

- if u plan a party in any capacity hes gotta be part of the action! wants to hang streamers, balloons, any little things you decide on to spruce up your place for the event (please don’t call it an event he can’t handle the pressure)

- also u can’t have a cookout bday bc he will insist on working the grill the whole time. shark coded, will drown if he isn’t doing something

- the party itself is extremely laidback, feels more like a big hangout. ordering 3 of his favorite type of pizza, bringing out beanbags and comfy chairs from other parts of the house so everyone can sit in the living room together. gabi and falco take the tv hostage to play video games and colt and bertholdt somehow get roped into it. it’s raucous, but comfortable.

- u and gabi collab on a homemade cake, but reiner is the baker in the family and gabi just likes the excuse to make a mess. end up making some easy cookies and buying a walmart sheet cake, and its a good thing, too, because just the sight of his name is enough to make him tear up. “you didn’t have to do all this” what, make a phone call to get ur name on a cake? the bar is on the floor unfortunately

- no presents because he can’t handle the pressure, but there’s a couple cards and his lip trembles over each one. zeke gets him a card that’s obviously for kids with stickers inside but he tears up at that one too because “it even comes with a little gift… so thoughtful…”

- rest of the party is spent doing more of the same, a couple beers are thrown back, maybe tosses a football around or something. very classic suburban white picket fence dream party. it brings reiner a quiet joy, one that he keeps close to his chest, a memory that he’ll look back on over and over.

- the guests start to filter out one by one until its just u and him, picking up paper plates, putting away leftovers. its all very domestic, it might actually be reiner’s favorite part. to just be with u in companionable silence, scooting around and putting the house in order. domesticity is something sacred that he never thought he’d have, and its a joy to share it with u.

- he INSISTS on sitting on the couch with u after, gives u those big eyes that he only gets when he wants u to pet his hair, falls asleep to one of his favorite comfort films with your hands on his head, totally content

- wakes up in the wee hours and carries u to bed like the big bear of a man that he is, not expecting anything of you, just wanting u to be comfortable. tucks u in and gives u a kiss like it’s your birthday or something

- and it’s not a gift bc reiner specifically requested no gifts, but if he wakes up to u wearing something special the next morning, something that leaves nothing to the imagination, i mean… maybe the party doesn’t have to be over quite yet

#reiner braun #zeke yaeger #reiner braun x reader #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke #rei #aot #cakecore #question mark #reimar #zeke yeager x reader

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babyjakes · 2 years

Text

the devil's thirst.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | stupid little babies who wanna act big need to be reminded how utterly pathetic and helpless they truly are.

pairing | mean!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | mean!mean!mean!daddy!lloyd like so mean, very cruel!!, denial as punishment (no cumming for a month), lloyd is a sick bastard (canon) and threatens to cut various body parts off, fake soft!daddy!lloyd for a hot minute, my strawberry shortcake trauma insertion, mocking/degredation, restraints (rope), watersports (forced wetting), fingering, black rubber gloves bc lloyd doesn't like messes (whew daddy!!), forced orgasm, squirting (i mean, ,, it's also pee but, ,, ,, you know), pussy slapping/clit spanking, big big crying kink, so much cursing, name-calling (whore, slut, bitch, all the good ones), no aftercare/lloyd makes her clean up the mess D-:, dude wtf even is this and why did i write it :^))))

word count | 2,742

an | idek what to say about this one so i'm just gonna link this hate anon i got about having a piss kink where i responded with piss ari and cursed the haters bc i think it's funny and neat okay byeeee-

Unsurprisingly, when it came to being your daddy, there were certain parts of the job that Lloyd found especially enjoyable. He did it all well, of course- took care of your needs and wants, doted on you, treated you like the princess you were. But he would be lying if he said the darker, more sinister parts of the role weren't his favorite; it was only in his nature. He was cruel, wicked down to the bone, and that meant strict rules, along with even stricter punishments. Considering this, you were never one to act up much.

Much.

When you did end up on Lloyd's bad side, the consequences were usually swift and scathing. One philosophy he held was that it wasn't a true punishment unless he had you in tears. And being the notorious torture fanatic he was, he had plenty of methods to extract those pretty sobs from poor little you. All in all, your daddy was very hands-on with your discipline. So the one time he finally decided to punish you by depriving instead of dealing out, you knew you had taken things too far. But it was too late to do anything about it. Lloyd Hansen gave second chances to no one.

"A month?" you exclaimed in horror, jumping down from your seat on the dark polished wood of his study desk. Hands coming to rest on your hips over your frilly tennis skirt, you stood with shock still clear on your face.

Not even pausing to look up at you, Lloyd nodded as he continued to sort through the paperwork before him. He knew it drove you crazy; that's why he did it. The more worked up he could get you, the better. He loved seeing you pout and fuss. "That's right, princess. A whole month, no playtime. And if you even so much as think about touching that pretty little clit of yours, I'll cut it off and feed it to the dogs."

Grimacing in disgust, you somehow found it in you to protest, "Ew- no, Daddy! You wouldn't!"

Chuckling softly at your outrage, the man nodded, "Oh, I would, sweetheart. Actually- maybe I'd keep it, put it in a nice frame up on the wall. You know how much Daddy loves your little button, wouldn't wanna let it go to waste. Oh- and the same goes for your nipples, young lady. Daddy knows his naughty girl can get off on those alone when she's needy enough."

Huffing softly to yourself, you crossed your arms, stomping the rubber bottom of your platform Mary Jane against the floor. Finally looking up to meet your gaze, Lloyd smiled widely, having gotten exactly what he wanted: a precious, pouty baby. How cute.

"No fair, Daddy," you whimpered, bottom lip puffing out in an attempt to change his mind.

"No fair? Why's that, princess? What were you expecting when you stole Daddy's bike for a midnight joyride, a fucking pat on the back? A new pair of shoes?"

"N-no, but..." Sniffling, your frown deepened. "You never give me punishments like this, Daddy. Always just..."

"Give you what you want? Play rough with you, let you cum?" the man finished your sentence for you as you lowered your head in shame; there was no denying that he was right. "Oh, you'll get that too, sweetheart. This is just part one of your lesson, so quit being a brat and whining about it, or I'll double the time."

"No- please, Daddy!" you were quick to beg, eyes bulging with tears as he did nothing but laugh at your pathetic desperation.

"Good. Now get out of here, Daddy's got a meeting. You might wanna take a walk around the garden, baby. Don't think you're gonna like the sounds I'm about to pull from these bastards."

When the promised day arrived, you were a much different girl than you were only a month ago, any last hints of brattiness and defiance completely put out as you could really only be described using one word at that point: needy. In the morning as he helped you get ready, your daddy dressed you up in your favorite Strawberry Shortcake pinafore with matching pink stockings held in place by pretty lace garters, and of course he let you wear your favorite lingerie set, the baby pink lace with little strawberry patterning just so adorable against your perfect body. With how cute you were looking, it took everything in him not to bend you over your bed and fuck you into oblivion as soon as you were all dressed and ready for the day. "So beautiful for me, angel," Lloyd cooed against your hair as he held you on his lap, running a gentle hand up and down your back. "You remember what today is, don't you?"

Big eyes blinking innocently, you nodded, too busy holding your breath to respond.

"I knew my princess wouldn't forget. Daddy can't wait to give you the rest of your punishment- and some relief, of course." Smiling down at you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing, "But in order to get all that, you need to be a good girl for Daddy first, okay? I've got some work to wrap up in my office, and I want you sitting pretty on my lap while I do it. Do you understand?"

"Yes Daddy," you nodded obediently, jumping slightly as his other hand came up to rub against your thigh. Cheeks burning in embarrassment, you bit your lip, knowing better than to start begging early.

"Oh sweetheart, you poor thing," your daddy crooned sympathetically as he ran his fingers delicately over your trembling skin. "Look at how badly you need me- are those tears in your eyes already, princess?"

Not wanting to open your mouth in fear of breaking down completely, you simply let out a weak whimper, turning to tuck your face against the fabric of the man's shirt. Chuckling at your actions, Lloyd wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss down on the top of your head. "Okay, okay- Daddy'll quit teasing," he promised. "Now come on, little one. I have a surprise waiting for you in the study."

Lifting you into the air with ease, he was kind enough to carry you all the way from the bedroom to the office, letting you stay hidden away in the safety of his familiar scent and the darkness of his shirt. "Don't tell me you're gonna be a teary-eyed baby all day," he frowned as he flipped on the lights to illuminate the grand room, stepping over a bit and rousing you in his arms. "Hey pumpkin, look- look over on the couch and see what Daddy got you."

Wary eyes cautiously coming out of hiding, you glanced over to the plush brown sofa, a small gasp escaping your lips as you whispered, "Strawberry sodas! Daddy, those are my favorite!"

"I know, my love. That's why I got them for you, thought maybe you'd like a treat for being such a good girl all month for me. You wanna have one while you sit on my lap?" the man offered as he gently placed you down on your feet, smiling as you gave him an eager nod of a response. "Go grab one, baby. Actually, make it two. Daddy'll try one with you, can't remember the last time I had something sweet."

As you skipped across the rug to grab the pretty glass bottles full of sparkling pink juice, Lloyd settled himself down in his black leather office chair, smirking silently at the sight of you bouncing in excitement from the "treat" he had bought for you. "Look Daddy, cute baby strawberry cartoons on the bottles!" you beamed as you made your way back over to him, climbing up to straddle one of his sturdy thighs as you faced in his direction, handing him one of the drinks.

"So cute, angel. Almost as cute as you," he smiled widely as he helped you pop off the cap before opening his own. "Cheers," he sang as he tapped the glasses together softly, trying to keep from salivating as he watched your puffy lips pink with lip gloss wrap around the mouth of the bottle.

Taking a few gulps, you hummed lovingly at the sweet taste. "Soo good, Daddy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, princess. Go ahead, drink up. The whole box's for you."

"You stupid, stupid baby."

Choking against the wad of lace shoved between your sticky lips, you let out a humiliated whine as Lloyd stood above you, towering over your trembling form with his hands pressed neatly behind his back. "Look at you," he snapped, "couldn't even get through tying you up without the tears starting. Isn't this what you wanted? You were so sad when Daddy wouldn't wreck your pretty little cunt on the spot- remember that, whore?"

Sniffling pathetically into your spit-soaked panties, all you could do was cry harder at the man's degrading words. Sobs wracking through your chest as you stared wide-eyed up at the terrifying man above you, you struggled to comprehend everything that had happened in such a short span of time. Where had your loving, doting Daddy gone? You should've been suspicious when he was so kind that morning, but silly little you, all you had thought was he had woken up in a good mood. Now it was clear that he had much darker intentions settling just below the surface the entire time; it was all a part of his game. He had played you like a pathetic little pawn.

Kicking your legs with what little strength you had left, you tried to struggle against the tight ropes holding you bound and open against the smooth leather of the office chair, but it was no use- you couldn't move more than a fraction of an inch in any direction. Watching you writhe and attempt to escape, Lloyd laughed a loud and mean laugh, his spit hitting your face as he grinned in sick delight. "Poor little slut. Can't get out of Daddy's knots. You know better than to squirm, sweetheart, but I'll let you get away with it this time. I have so much fun in store for you, I don't wanna waste any time on trivial matters like spanking your nasty little fuckhole."

Icy eyes trailing down, the man's gaze settled on your exposed pussy, the soft, delicate petals of your sex puffy from excitement and neglect. "Oh baby," Lloyd cooed, crouching down in front of you as his eyes became level with your dripping heat, "look so sensitive already. Haven't been touched in weeks, and it really shows. Daddy's gonna have so much fun with you. Aren't you excited, angel? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Crying harder against your makeshift gag, you shook your head desperately, a wicked smile forming on his face as your daddy nodded knowingly. "No? Why's that, princess?" Reaching out a hand, he snatched the panties from between your teeth, giving you only a moment to cough and recover from the forced intrusion. "Speak."

Lower lip trembling terribly as you fought back stronger sobs, your voice came out in shaky gasps as you stuttered, "P-please Daddy... p-please! Have'ta- please... h-have'ta go p-potty!"

Pure depraved thrill shone in Lloyd's eyes as you let out your admittance. "Stupid, stupid baby. Drank all those strawberry sodas, how many was it again?" Warm tears rolling down your cheeks, you whimpered with heavy regret, your tummy throbbing against the ropes holding you so tightly in place. "And now look at you, so full- you could nearly burst. Stupid fucking baby. Never use your fucking brain, do you? Time to teach you how tiny and dumb you really are, slut. You wanna know what happens when little girls cum with a tummy this full?" he asked cruelly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pair of black nitrile gloves, snapping them onto his large hands for a dangerously tight fit. "They piss all over themselves. Like the pathetic fucking babies they are."

The panties being shoved back in your mouth knocked the wind out of you, but it was two of Lloyd's thick fingers piercing into your drooling folds that had your eyes rolling back into your head as you struggled to catch air. Digits pounding brutally in and out of your aching walls, the man quickly made you into a sputtering mess, the friction provided by your slick and the rubber of the gloves sending burning shocks through your gut and up your spine. You begged, pleaded through the fabric wedged between your lips, but it was no use; Lloyd would get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

"So fucking wet, little slut- such a fucking mess you're making," he grunted as he increased the speed of his fingers, focusing his attention on the tender spot he knew could get you to snap in seconds. Warmth building up in your tummy, you did everything you could to fight the urge to release, but it was a losing battle. "Needy little whore went all month without getting to cum once- no way you'll last long. Horny little bitch, always ready to take whatever Daddy wants to shove up her filthy little cunt."

Ripping his fingers from your tight grip, he smacked his gloved hand down several times against your tender pussy, dissolving you into a squeaking, sobbing mess as your flesh burned agonizingly from the assault. "Stupid-" smack, "little-" smack, "baby-" smack, "gonna-" smack, "squirt-" smack, "all-" smack, "over-" smack, "and there's nothing she can do about it," he grinned widely as he shoved his fingers back in, his other hand coming up to keep smacking over your throbbing clit, "absolutely nothing. Can scream and cry 'til she's blue in the face, but Daddy doesn't care. Daddy's gonna make you cum, little girl. Gonna make you gush all over yourself, 'n there's nothing you can do about it. So keep fucking crying, you pathetic little bitch. Get those pretty cheeks nice and wet for me- maybe if you're good I'll fuck your face when I'm done."

Speeding up his thrusts once more, the thumb of his other hand settling in to rub tight little circles harshly against your burning nub, there was nothing you could do but lay there and take it as Lloyd brought you to the edge of climax within minutes. Noticing the growing look of terror on your face, the man's crooked smile grew wider as he taunted, "There it is, look at that. Knew she couldn't hold it in. Dumb little babies can't keep themselves from cumming, not when their daddies are finger-fucking their pussies this good. Come on, you fucking whore. Cum for Daddy, make a big fucking mess like the stupid fucking baby you are." With the curl of his massive fingers hitting just the right spot, and the pad of his rubbered thumb stroking painfully against your bundle of nerves, with a broken sob, you heaved as you submitted to your punisher. Your orgasm sprayed out against his relentless ministrations as he laughed cruelly in delight, "That's it. Filthy. Fucking. Baby. Give it to me. Give it all to Daddy."

When the waves of terrible pleasure finally began to subside, you were left gasping for air as Lloyd slowed his hands down to a gradual stop, mercifully reaching up to pull the panties from your mouth to allow you a little more space to breathe. "Dirty little girl, look what a big fucking mess you made," he shook his head heartlessly, rising to his feet as he snapped the gloves off his hands and tossed them to the ground. Grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, he flicked out the metal edge, running it harshly over the ropes holding you in place to set you free.

As soon as your sore muscles were released from their bonds, you collapsed against the sturdy frame of the rolling chair, still struggling to catch your breath as Lloyd spoke to you with disinterest, "Now clean it up. All of it. And throw the clothes away. Stupid little baby, ruined her favorite dress. Covered in piss now, pathetic. Disgusting." Reaching under his desk, he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner, tossing them at you, ignoring when you whimpered at them hitting you in the face.

#eun's writing #the devil's thirst #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen fanfiction #daddy!lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #chris evans #chris evans smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen one shot #lloyd hansen imagine #the gray man fanfiction

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odysseys-blood · 6 months

Text

dumping a bunch of messy whb mc doodles someone take this game from me

+rambling abt em under the cut:

1(2): drew this one surrounding the feelings of guilt between minhyeok and loyal (mc). idk if they expound on it more bc im stuck on 3-48 but like. its gotta suck feeling like you're the whole reason your best friend is going through it (loyal going to hell to revive minheyok/ minheyok dying because he tried to save loyal) and yet you cant talk at all. i like thinking about the feelings of obligation they both feel for each other. and the fact that theyre both a lil too guilty because none of this is either of their faults but feelings arent exactly logical are they. also did you know minhyeok's cut is in the reverse direction in his halloween event sprites than they should be based on the cg where he gets cut. cause it keeps bothering me.

also not related but since the halloween event i keep playing with the idea of minhyeok having some unknown relation to whatever happened to god (or maybe lilith for that matter but i have less of a support for this one) after he disappeared. i do like him as a "just some guy" character but i do also like the idea of him having that unavoidable bond with you because god adored solomon and having one soul turn back up means its not impossible for the others to appear again. also smthn was up with how the angels liked him

3: please. please stop grinding your teeth it hurts to read. loyal was also a wrestler in highschool so he's even more concious of it and is two seconds from like just putting his arm in the way so he stops. id say maybe we could invest in like lolipops or smthn but i feel like satan would "how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop" except he doesnt even lick it he just bites it into smithereens in one go.

4: i think i literally went :0 when solomon first says that devils are idiots not long after the mc does. it rly is like. ik ur different people but u truly are a mirror of solomon huh. except loyal is more grumbly about it

5/6: like i said im stuck on 3-48 so idk how feasible this is but bad end angelification loyal! i was gonna do a demon one too but i think angel mc is more compelling because not only will you have to break your promise and let everyone, especially satan, down, but now they have to kill you too. and that would eat at the devils so badly. they already lost solomon once and now they have to get rid of him personally.

#cliff png #whb #what in hell is bad #whb mc #whb satan #whb solomon #whb minhyeok

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ravenelyx · 1 year

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I love you in every timeline - Chapter 2: One Hundred Years of Solitude

← Prologue

← Chapter 1

→ Chapter 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 10.5k

Chapter Warnings: angst, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name usage for reader (not even y/n dw), use of 2nd person though bc it makes sense for the story - trust me, Sebastian is veery confused and veeery jealous but he found a friend in this madness, veeeeery slow burn

Summary: "He smiled as he sat down next to the blonde girl, ignoring the giddy feeling in his stomach as you watched his every move. He also might have accidentally sat right opposite of you.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: I deeply apologise for the late update. I wanted to use this Chapter to expand a bit over his life at Hogwarts and other relationships, other than, yk, the rrrrromance. Anyway, Daphne is my crush.

You can find the whole fanfiction here on ao3

"Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her." - Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

The Great Hall was almost empty when he entered it, as most of the students had already gone to class. Since he had a free period before Charms, Sebastian decided to allow himself more sleep than usual.

Not that it had been any useful.

He felt exhausted, dragging himself to the nearest seat at his House table and resting his head on the cold wood. There was hardly anything left, and he was more than happy to just munch on a cold pancake and drink a glass of pumpkin juice, enough to sustain him for at least a few hours, although barely.

Perhaps it was the sight of the Hall, empty and familiar, perhaps it was the enchanted ceiling shining sunny rays on the Slytherin table, perhaps it was the unsatisfactory breakfast after an unsatisfactory dinner, but for a split second, Sebastian was at home.

It was a sour feeling, like his pumpkin juice had spoiled and his pancake had grown mould in his hands, yet he couldn't stop feasting on it, searching for a piece he could savour, if only once. That, he realised, was the beginning of his destruction.

Memories of the previous day's conversation came flooding back and he groaned, the weight in his chest growing heavier, and the pancake suddenly seemed even less appetising as he dropped it onto the plate.

'Everything is clearer in the morning', Dumbledore had said.

Perhaps he should lend me his glasses, Sebastian thought.

Fortunately, the headache had subsided since the conversation, and although his sleep hadn't been as satisfying as he'd hoped, he felt a little better than he had a few hours ago. Maybe it was the pumpkin juice.

He shoved the pancake back in his mouth, almost choking on it, and rubbed his eyes before standing up. From his table, a few Slytherins turned their heads towards him, and he recognised a few of his peers among them: a brown-haired boy was waving a wand around with a devil-may-care attitude while a blonde girl tried to snatch it out of his hands. None of them seemed in a rush to leave, which almost made Sebastian think he had read his timetable wrong.

He checked again for good measure and he was glad to know he was absolutely right. He then thought he might have been mistaken about the students: they either weren't in the same year as him as he had previously thought or they were waiting for the perfect moment to be fashionably late.

Sebastian, for all his self-respect and gallantry, had little time to be fashionable.

Leaving the students be — and ignoring their eyes on him as soon as he turned towards the door — he headed off to class, ready to begin lessons in a new, unfamiliar environment.

It felt bloody ironic to think that after five years.

If anything, the hallways were deserted and the cracking fire of the torches put him at ease, and that was a pretty huge step up. The walk to Classroom 2E was almost refreshing, and for once, he didn’t lament the stairs. The same couldn’t be said for the screeching laugh of a certain Slytherin girl as soon as she saw him wander around.

“Lost, new fifth-year?” laughed Pansy Parkinson, then she turned to her right as if expecting someone to pat her back.

If her goal was to discomfit him, she might need to review her bullying strategies.

“You’re not still crying because of what happened yesterday, are you?” retorted Sebastian, only stopping briefly to look at her before resuming his walk.

“I could give you detention,” she shrieked.

“That would delight me.”

Pansy Parkinson didn’t follow him, for which he was delightfully glad. Not that it would matter that much: he’d see her in class anyway — probably fleering at him with newfound energy once she had his beau beside her.

A perfect pureblood pair, he almost wanted to throw up.

The classroom hadn’t changed an inch, so much that Sebastian almost expected Professor Ronen to parade down the stairs with his purple robes and terrible jokes. Instead, what waited for him was a short man standing on a pile of books, swinging from left to right on his tiny legs. He was waving his wand around, blank scrolls of parchments depositing themselves on each desk while a whole new bunch of them floated around his head.

“Oh! Come! Come!” he shrieked as soon as he saw Sebastian, gesturing for him to approach his desk. “Have your classmates met you yet? Oh, I’m sure they have! You seem like a nice, friendly bloke!”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if the words “nice” and “friendly” suited him, actually, but he gave the professor a smile nonetheless.

“I’d told Dumbledore he ought-a make a proper introduction! I can’t imagine how odd it must have been for you — and especially in such circumstances,” he whispered the last part, and Sebastian felt his smile falter and his heart drop pathetically to his stomach. That is something that adults do, where in all their experience and emotional maturity they always fail to consider their younger interlocutors' perspective, and Sebastian really wanted to snap at the small man and make him understand that he didn’t exactly feel the need to be reminded of his situation all the time.

The man seemed to notice, too (and what miracle, Sebastian thought), and he brought his hands to his mouth, capping it shut like he had just revealed a big secret. “Sorry,” he muffled, “I ought-a be more sensible.”

Unwinding his hands, he finally addressed the rest of the students, motioning Sebastian to turn towards them.

To say his introduction was embarrassing would have been too kind a compliment.

He stayed still like a statue, almost hoping that the less he moved, the less visible he was. The professor did the honours, and Sebastian had to fight the urge to take out his wand and blast Draco Malfoy and his gang to Merlin’s grave as they snickered.

“You may go and sit next to Miss Davis.” The small man lightly patted his back to direct him towards the desk. “I’m Professor Filius Flitwick — you can come and find me for any doubts, my office is open at every hour!”

“Every hour indeed,” whispered Miss Davis as soon as Sebastian sat down. “He might even give you cupcakes if you look distressed enough!”

Sebastian thought that Professor Flitwick might have to step up his baking game, as far as distress goes.

Charms class had paid off, and Sebastian felt better, more like himself, than he had in the past twenty-four hours. Flitwick was a little eccentric, but a very knowledgeable and capable Charms master, other than a lenient Professor by Hogwarts standards — he didn't even give extra assignments to those who were late.

Miss Davis — or Tracey, as Sebastian learnt — had been very helpful. She shared her book with him and lent him her notes. Sebastian realised there were quite a few things that he had never heard of, fruit of many decades of research and discovery.

On the whole, he believed he was content enough and ready for his next class. Sebastian felt at ease in an almost confounding way: and he was sure he'd become jittery soon enough, yet a new found purpose — if only for a short time — invigorated his spirit. If he focused on school, he'd fill his brain enough not to think about anything else. That was ideal.

"What do you think, mate?"

A Slytherin boy approached him, slinging his bag on his shoulder, and Sebastian jumped a little, surprised by the sudden voice. He recognised him as the boy in the Great Hall, with the messy brown hair and the long face, but his blonde friend was nowhere to be found.

"What?" asked Sebastian, slowing down to allow him to approach.

The boy smiled reassuringly. "Flitwick. That was your first Charms class in Hogwarts, was it not?"

Sebastian had to bite his tongue at that, willing Professor Ronen’s jovial face to disappear from his mind. “Indeed it was…”

“So?”

So…

Sebastian tried not to make a comparison, but a wall of pros and cons was already manifesting in the window on his mind, served with just a tad of cognitive bias.

"Oh, it was good. He's a bit eccentric isn't he?" said Sebastian tentatively.

"Yeah, but he's all right. We thought he was part elf for the longest time but we never dared to ask."

Sebastian smirked, remembering the professor’s squeaky voice and the books he had to stand on. He was almost bizzarre, when he moved his wand around: like a toy hit by a Transfiguration spell that jumped around as if alive. "I thought he was a bit… short."

"Yeah. Apparently he's part Goblin instead, but heh, same thing," said the boy nonchalantly and walked past him.

Sebastian faltered, stilling in place as if someone had poured concrete on his shoes. Just as a cracked mirror, the toy decayed on the wooden floor, moulded by years of humidity and abandon.

He thought he had grown even slightly accustomed to the changes — to the people wandering around him, the classmates treating him like a foreigner, the professors having to hide him under carefully practised smiles and braided hands on their mouths — and yet, the mere idea that his own professor had goblin ancestry was tearing him apart like nothing before.

He knew that Goblins weren't the ones that cursed Anne (his friend had told him that, after all), and he knew, logically and maturely, that just because a few of them were bad didn't mean all of them were, but he still felt a little flame of anger — and prejudice — light up inside him, along with scattered guilt for his own thoughts and the memory of Feldcroft's events.

Sebastian wanted to forget the past, and yet it kept following him, even through space and time, and he couldn’t help but think about that goblin slitting his own throat at his wishes, and intrusively imagine Flitwick being in his place.

He really tried to ignore it, for his own good. Flitwick was a good teacher, a skilled wizard even: his ancestry had nothing to do with it — or him. He hoped that he wouldn’t need more time to warm up to the Charms professor after hearing the new information.

But he knew he did.

“What’s that face, new student?” came Draco Malfoy’s provoking snicker, followed by his group’s. “Was this little class so hard it made you realise how dense you are?”

“I'd worry more about your failed Colour Change Charm today. Need help with that?”

Draco Malfoy shut up immediately.

Upon leaving the classroom, Sebastian read his timetable again and saw that he had three free periods before Care of Magical Creatures. He groaned in displeasure and then cringed at himself: he was probably the only student in the whole world who wanted to actively study at the moment. He sighed and simply decided to spend his free time in the Library to try to catch up on what he had missed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Could you direct me to the books involving the events of the last century?" Sebastian asked the librarian as soon as he entered the room, and she eyed him suspiciously before handing him his library card and pointing him in the right direction.

Not much had changed in the Library, so much that Sebastian was still able to pronounce every book by memory as his eyes skimmed over the covers. He walked through the Library like it was home, his chest caving with a soft buzz of comfort and excitement. Sebastian thought he might cry on the spot if he didn't have so many curious eyes on him.

There was, of course, a new section with books he had never read before: books of the new century, and, wistfully, the books he was searching for. Whilst the new shelves broke that bell jar of naiveté gradually forming around him as part of him still clung to the past, an excited grin broke onto his face nonetheless; he had always prided himself on having read every book in the room — except for the Restricted Section — and the idea of absorbing even more knowledge was almost invigorating enough to brighten up his day. He was his parents' son after all.

Madam Pince stared at him from across the room, her neck moving to watch his actions in a way that eerily resembled a rattlesnake as he grabbed as many books as he could carry in his arms before placing them on the nearest desk where another Slytherin girl sat. She looked at him suspiciously, with a playful hint in her eyes.

"Busy, aren't we? I almost took you for a Ravenclaw,” she said jauntily, then glanced back down at her book, a copy of Intermediate Transfiguration, and unwrapped a parchment scroll beside it, pushing a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear so it wouldn't fall in her face.

Whether the girl intended it as a compliment or not, he allowed it to go over his head: her teasing had already stepped foot into his boundaries, but Sebastian felt like the bell jar was too broken to stop it, and he let it be.

"I've a lot of catching up to do," he sighed as he took a seat in front of her, opened the first book on the list — A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot — and read the table of contents, frowning when he noticed the book didn't get past the 19th century. What surprised him the most was that this was, technically, the assigned book for the year. Was the history of the past century so useless and uneventful it didn't deserve to be shed light on?

The girl raised her head and looked at him as he focused on the words in front of him. "Oh, right. You're the new student everyone's talking about, aren't you?"

That was not exactly on his list of yearly accomplishments.

Sure, he was the best duelist in Crossed Wands (second best, he suddenly reminded himself) and his duels were the talk of the school for days after they happened, and especially if they involved her.

But that was good talk. The kind of talk that makes people know you as talented and dashing and charming (and a loser sometimes, but only because she was better: and if she was better, he didn't care), not the kind that depicted you as the boorish and lonely new student who didn't even deserve a formal introduction and had a fight with two Prefects on his first day. That was the bad talk: the talk he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy (or perhaps only to those like Duncan Hobhouse, because he was a boorish and a loner and his formal introduction should spare everyone present. But that was Duncan.)

"Everyone?" he asked then, rhetorically and with a strange need to eat those words back up and become that boorish loner, too.

"Well, it's quite an unusual occurrence. People are curious."

Curious wasn’t exactly what Sebastian needed at the moment, yet Hogwarts was, after all, a bracket of adolescents waiting to feast and find something else to worry about than their potions essay.

"Fair enough," he said, folding the book shut and putting it aside, deeming it useless for his research. "I'm Sebastian Sallow."

"Daphne Greengrass. Pleased to meet you." She extended her arm towards him over the table, her palm open and waiting, and he faltered for a moment at her boldness before repeating her movements. Her grip on his hand was firm and confident as she shook it. Sebastian studied her face more closely, a feeling of familiarity lingering on the back of his mind.

"Are we in the same year?" he asked, almost feeling the gears turning in his brain as he tried to recall her face.

"You're observant," she replied sarcastically. "Yeah, I was actually sitting behind you in Charms just now. Next to Pansy?"

Like an epiphany. He remembered the blonde girl at breakfast. She was one of the few students who arrived late to Charms class.

Then his brain focused on the name she said, and his eye twitched. "Don't tell me you're friends with her."

"I wouldn't say 'friends'; she can be rude sometimes."

Sebastian had a word in mind that perfectly described his combination of “rude” and “Pansy Parkinson”, but decided not to say it. He just rolled his eyes and Daphne smiled. "Really, most of the time she's all right. Quite nice even — but only if you're a pureblood. I'm actually surprised she's never thought of me as a blood traitor, considering the stances of my family, but I suppose there's a clear line between support and neutrality, and we haven't crossed it yet."

As if neutering any possible debate, she began scribbling on her parchment what seemed to be the beginning of an essay.

Sebastian felt like the line between neutrality and supremacy was much more blurred instead.

"Delightful," said Sebastian simply, picking up the nearest book and beginning to read it as they fell into a comfortable silence.

The books felt like a balm and a curse, redolent of pretty much every emotional experience Sebastian had lived through in the past day.

After about an hour, he put the books back, having flicked through them all, and had just begun to let his eyes wander over the shelf in search of a new one when he heard shuffling behind him.

Daphne had put her books away and was frowning at him. "It's nearly lunchtime, I'm heading to the Great Hall. D'you want to come?"

Sebastian paused for a moment, looking around and noticing how the Library was emptying by the minute. "Uh, sure. I didn't realise it was that late." And he found himself following Daphne outside, striking a conversation on the way and feeling a little lighter.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The sun was still as hot as ever as he followed his fellow Slytherins to his Care of Magical Creatures class a few hours later. Draco Malfoy led the group, snickering along with Pansy Parkinson and the two big students about some second-year Hufflepuff they took points from. Sebastian rolled his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw the back of his own head.

When Malfoy's blonde hair disappeared from his field of vision, he almost rolled them again when he recognised the familiar robes of his Gryffindor classmates.

Gryffindor could only mean one thing: You.

He frantically looked around for your familiar silhouette and breathed a sigh of relief when he found nothing. You hadn't mentioned any elective other than Divination to him — apart from your obvious dislike of Arithmancy — so perhaps, by some benevolent Supreme Being, you hadn't chosen that course, and he would have to see you even less.

His solace was short-lived, because after only a few seconds he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Sebastian turned and saw you walking towards him, followed by the two Prefects and the boy with glasses. Just like that, dread washed over him like magma, and he was sure his vision had lost focus for a moment — his body shrivelled at your presence, like you had touched him and burned his skin to the bone and no amount of Wiggenweld could fix it.

He grimaced (and he thought that the fact that he managed to contain his face to a simple grimace was noteworthy) as you approached and mentally prepared himself to start a conversation with you — because of course you would talk to him: you had done it every time you had met the day before.

It was logical, like Ominis being angry at him for no reason, or Anne taking his hands in hers when they met.

(But that logic can break, and he knew it all too well.)

It's not that he didn't like talking to you — he did: far too much, in fact — but he had made a promise to himself and was willing to keep it. He had already regretted telling you about the Undercroft, and he had felt incredibly embarrassed that morning when he had remembered your conversation.

‘I suppose I had no other choice,' his mind played it over and over mockingly, taunting him like a broken cuckoo clock in an old lady's house — and he has seen an awful lot of them in his time living in the countryside — or like one of those school kids he wanted to strangle when he was young, singing off-key doggerels at the bare mention of a girl's name.

You flashed him a smile and gave him a quick wave, and the corners of his mouth lifted against his will. He sounded himself leaning towards you, ready to strike up a conversation when you would inevitably stop beside him. After all, you had followed him the night before when he left the Great Hall, hadn't you?

And so he spoke, "Hi—"

"Neville? How did you get here so fast?" you said at the same time, shifting your wide eyes towards the Gryffindor group. You practically dashed past him, rushing towards another Gryffindor boy standing just a few feet away from him, and Sebastian was left there, his greeting hanging in the air unanswered. "We literally just left the greenhouse, did you sprint here or what?" He heard you laugh.

"Hello, Sebastian," said Hermione, as Ron and Harry gave him a nod of acknowledgement, with polite smiles on their faces. The three of them joined you and Neville, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, and Sebastian sighed, a heavy feeling in his chest and pure shame seeping through his veins. He thought he had physically heard his stomach bounce like a poorly knitted pillow, and the more his mind replayed the scene, the more it unbounded until all that was left was a poorly looped slip knot.

"Well, that was awkward." Daphne was right next to him again and had witnessed the whole interaction. Sebastian's eye twitched.

"What was?" He decided to play dumb, already knowing he'd be unsuccessful as his gloomy expression was more than enough for a tell.

"'Hi." She taunted him with an exaggerated dreamy sigh, and he bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance as another step forward in that boundary almost felt like a kick in the shins.

"I did not sound like that."

"You sounded exactly like that," she smirked. "You almost threw yourself in front of her, too."

"I did not," he protested weakly, looking at the ground to measure his position and see if Daphne was actually right.

She was.

"I beg to differ. What's with the few steps you took forward then?"

Sebastian was properly blushing now, and as the girl giggled, he felt like a wet Puffskein in a camp of Poachers. He frantically looked around to ensure no one was looking his way, and no one was, yet he still felt as if their eyes were just barely waiting to peel the skin off his bones as languidly as a blink. He took a step back as if it could undo his actions.

"Don't tell me you've already got a crush,” Daphne continued, either unaware or uncaring of Sebastian's feelings. “You've been here — what, a day? I mean, I get it. She is gorgeous; I'm sure many guys and girls would agree, but that's a record."

"I don't have a crush," he said through gritted teeth, arms tightening around his midriff as he crossed them to his chest protectively, yet at the sceptical look on his newfound friend's face, which seemed to reach parts of him that felt a bit too personal — specifically the alcove between his ribcage and heart — he snapped. "I don't! She just reminds me of someone else I knew. It's not her I... It's just not like that, all right?"

A few heads turned to him, startled by his outburst, and he chewed on his cheek to calm down. He did not need further attention.

He opened his hands and caressed the palm over his arms, as if smoothing the skin down.

The girl stared as well, and Sebastian was pleased to see her bite her lip as if regretting her words. "Wow, all right, I get it." She took a few steps to stand right beside him, trying to appear unfazed by his tone, and faced the Professor, whispering: "So, it's like a 'fill-in crush'?"

Not again.

Sebastian sighed heavily, like it could remove the huge weight of her words crushing his lungs. "A what?"

"You're attracted to her because she’s, in a way, similar to your other crush," said Daphne matter-of-factly, nodding in satisfaction at her own statement.

His blush spread, and he had to close his eyes to bask in that bell jar again, if only for a little.

"I wouldn't say 'attracted'," he muttered, but Daphne only raised her eyebrows knowingly, and he found himself yielding like a fool. "Well, yes... probably."

For some reason, the admission didn't actually crush his lungs as he had expected.

(He then thought the sigh had actually been responsible for that: let's give credit where credit is due.)

"Mm..." Daphne seemed lost in thought for a while. "Well, the only advice I can give you is to sort out your feelings."

Feelings. Those weren't feelings. They were a trick: a traitorous, disgusting trick of his brain that made him want to throw up.

"There are no feelings to sort out. I don't feel anything for her." Sebastian averted his eyes. "Nothing real, at least," he mumbled the last bit, turning his head away from the blonde girl. It was a terrible large word for such a small muscle.

"Well, that's great, for now. But if you do at some point — or if you two become friends in the future — really put some thought into it. After all, you can't rule the heart." She winked at him as Professor Grubbly Plank began her lesson.

You can't rule the heart. Sebastian knew this all too well and yet seriously wished he could. Especially at that moment.

"Was your crush unrequited?" Daphne added musingly as she got her book out of her bag, and his breath caught in his throat. He had, for a moment, settled down in that peaceful certainty that was a closed conversation.

Logic was broken again.

"Why... Why is that so important?" he asked, reproaching himself for his ridiculous stutter.

"It must have been if your brain is looking for a replacement."

“I do nothing of the sort,” he spat defensively, as if Daphne’s words had moved past that alcove and directly touched his nerves. He turned to glare at her, but she just shrugged and acquiesced to his words without arguing. That unbalanced him, like missing a step and feeling the void under your stomach.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been deeply offended by the girl’s assumptions, yet for some reason, he was relieved by her utter lack of judgement about his insane situation.

“All right, I’m just saying. Be careful," she resigned and proudly showed him her assignment sketch of a Bowtruckle, as if the conversation had never happened. Despite everything, he snorted at the sight.

“I’m impressed. It looks almost different from a twig,” he said, pointing at its head, and she slapped his arm with her book.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The day had gone better than he had imagined, and the next day started just as well, only with a bigger breakfast. This time, both Daphne and Tracey sat next to him, and that mere action made him feel normal again. (And there were no dry pancakes this time, Sebastian noted happily)

Ron and Hermione had stopped him right after he left the Great Hall to give him his textbooks for the day.

“McGonagall asked us to get these for you. They’re a bit worn down, but they will do. I hope.” Hermione had said.

Transfiguration class went by quite smoothly, and McGonagall was more of a capable teacher than he was willing to admit. He grinned in victory when he was the only one to have Vanished his mice completely by the end of the lesson.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.” Daphne complained, holding up a slithery mouse tail. “There’s no way you managed to do that before me. Beginner’s luck,” she sulked.

“Next time, you should start from the tail,” he snickered proudly.

“Next time, I’ll Vanish your mouth, Sallow.”

After that came two whole hours of Potions, and Sebastian was curious if the rumours about Snape being strict and — quote — a bully were true (the rumours being Ron Weasley).

He entered the class, careful to keep an eye on you, just in case you had the bright idea to sit next to him, and basically sprinted to one of the square tables that already seemed too crowded for you to attempt to follow him.

Unfortunately, his planning was as bad as ever because he ended up banging his hands on the table to avoid crashing into it, inhaling some of the dust and erupting into a coughing fit that momentarily broke his focus. When he noticed the bright red hem of your uniform right next to him, it was already too late.

"’Morning," you smiled politely at him, and he forced himself to smile back, certain that he could not have mustered a better expression than one that said, 'I'm going to puke.'

To be fair: the dungeons were quite humid, and that, mixed with the various strong smells of potions and ingredients — and the dust still lingering at the back of his mouth — was not helping.

“‘Morning,” he said, making his voice as clear as the ceiling of the Great Hall. The thought of being mocked by Daphne Greengrass again surpassed any social etiquette in the proper tone to use. You, however, seemed totally unfazed.

He assumed that being around blaring Gryffindors every day must have attuned your ears to withstand ultrasounds by now.

“How was your first day? I forgot to ask yesterday.”

Yeah, you walked right past me. Did you remember that, at least? he almost said.

“Not bad at all. I had only three classes, though,” he shrugged nonchalantly. The fact that you didn't even stop to talk to him and ask how he was doing was not bothering him.

Maybe it was mildly upsetting, like waiting all day to explore the Highlands and then being stopped by a sudden rain.

Perhaps just a little annoying, like receiving an A instead of an E on an essay one had worked on for days.

But not bothersome. That would mean he cared, and he didn't.

You nodded and began setting your ingredients on the table. “What about today?”

He had to force himself not to care then. Force himself to suppress the sudden, prideful fluttering in his chest. He decided he was going to check the dorms that night: there were definitely a few moths or flies nestling around that he had accidentally swallowed while sleeping.

"McGonagall, first two periods."

You gave him a sweet smile that made his stomach tighten, and before he could stop himself, the moths fluttered and he blurted out, "I was actually the only one to master the Vanishing Spell today."

You seemed to be caught off guard, and he saw Daphne stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he didn't quite grasp what he did wrong. Then, like a cannonball he felt his cheeks warm up, as if his body had caught up before his brain.

Because he had just shamelessly bragged about himself like a first-year learning the Levitation Charm for the first time.

"Cool." Your voice was about an octave higher as you nodded at him, unsure how to respond to his statement. He bit the inside of his cheek, and wished the Giant Squid would burst through the window and snatch him away to make him its lunch. He definitely needed to check the dorms.

"W-what about you?" he asked instead, knowing that not even the Squid would show him mercy at this point.

(He suspected it would laugh at him, too.)

“Two free periods. I caught up on homework a bit.” You shrugged off your robe and neatly placed it with the others in a corner of the classroom closest to your worktable. “Hogwarts Professors do love an essay, don’t they? Feels like I haven’t stopped writing since the year started. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they asked us to write one right on the train.”

He grinned. “Seems like I have a lot to catch up on.”

“If you’re lucky, they’re going to spare you. I can’t believe I still need to work on my essay on Gillyweed; I thought I might spend the evening—”

Just like that, a tall Gryffindor boy came sitting on your right, and Sebastian watched as you faltered, pausing your hand mid-air. You were holding a handkerchief in which you had wrapped your Erumpent tongue: It never made it to the table's surface.

“Hi,” said the boy politely, flashing you a smile that you returned immediately.

“Hi,” you breathlessly replied, finally setting the wrap down and wiping your hands on your cardigan, taking a deep breath. Sebastian waited for you to continue your sentence, but it seemed like your conversation with the Slytherin was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

“Is this seat taken?”

What happened later felt more like a warm rush to his forehead, which quietly manifested into a frown. Why was he bothering asking if he had already put his stuff down?

But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Not at all — you can have it.” You stuttered a bit.

He watched this whole interaction with his mouth open, noticing the small smile dancing on your lips as you stole glances at the boy, and he did the same. They said looks could kill, and those gazes felt indeed like tiny stabbings all over his skin.

He met Daphne’s gaze, and she gave him a knowing look, hiding a smirk. His jaw set, and he mouthed, “Don’t start.”

“Today, you will be brewing the Babbling Beverage,” Snape said, forcing Sebastian to look away from the pathetic and horrifying scene next to him. “It’s fairly easy to grasp and should be a piece of cake for students who are supposed to be at Ordinary Wizarding Level, but I’m sure even then, some of you will encounter difficulties if so to speak.” He shot Neville a smug glance, and the boy seemed to shrink into himself. Malfoy snickered.

“Instructions are on the blackboard. You may begin.”

He saw you take out your textbook and search in your bag for — something you probably didn’t find. Groaning, you took out your quill and ink and began scribbling the instructions on the book, crossing ingredients and numbers, adding arrows and switching passages. That took you a whole five minutes before you closed your book and got to work.

He added Alihotsy leaves as his water simmered, and you did the same after a few minutes, glancing at what seemed to be a watch. The leaves had to stew in water for twenty minutes, so he got closer to you out of curiosity.

“Is that a watch on your wrist?” he asked, leaning over your shoulder as you were reading the time. It was worn and a little chipped on the sides, the hands wavering between seconds passing.

“It’s a wristwatch. Do wizards not use them?”

Wizards definitely used watches (he himself carried a pocket watch at all times), but he had never seen them worn as a bracelet.

“It looks fancy.”

You snickered. “Nothing fancy about it. I actually bought it for a cheap price."

That would explain the painfully slow pace of the hands.

"I can see it's barely moving at all," he smirked.

"I know," you stifled a small chuckle. "You could say it’s dying on my watch.”

Sebastian paused then, with a quiet buzz in his brain. There was a moment of realisation on his part before he found himself snorting, insides twisting and cringing at your terrible joke.

And the best part (the absolutely amazing part of it all) was that he would have had the same idea had he been in your place. A lousy, dreadful pun that would make anyone's chest shrivel in embarrassment. And yet he loved it.

"Merlin, that was awful!" He tried to hide the absolute joy on his face. Anyone else — Ominis, Anne, her — would either dismiss or ignore him when he made jokes like that, and rarely laugh. And there you were. It was you saying it, and it was you laughing at it. And it was him feeling warm all over again.

So different. How could you be so different?

"And yet you laughed. That says more about you than it does about me."

It did indeed say a lot about him, Sebastian acquiesced to that, and yet when you turned to smile at him, he froze. And if he hadn't caught a glimpse of your clock, still feebly moving, he would have thought time had too.

Sebastian hadn't realised how close the two of you actually were. He hadn't realised if it happened when he leaned to look at the watch. Or if he got even closer as he laughed.

His vision blurred for a second and his delusional, twisted mind screamed at him to lean in, and lean in, and lean in, because it was her, after all. He could just do it, just to put an end to those fluttering feelings that have been eating at him for months.

And he did. Just a little, enough to feel your breath touch the side of his face. Enough to notice the stray thread coming loose from the shoulder of your cardigan. Enough to notice every fleck of colour in your eyes.

Your eyes.

So different.

It wasn't her.

The rational part of his brain tightened the reins of his body, stopping him immediately like an abrupt braking, and he took a step back, almost stumbling backwards, heart hammering in his chest.

If you were her, you wouldn't have made a joke like that. It just wasn't her personality, he reasoned.

And yet, he wished it was. He wished he could mould the two of you together and keep you both with him. Then he forced himself out of his fantasy: the last thing he needed was to lose his grip on reality more than he had on his own life.

He decided to just sort out his ingredients while he waited, trying to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

He didn't look back at you to see your expression.

"Well, it could have been better." He eyed his potion gloomily. It was dark pink and definitely didn't smell like bubblegum, as it should have, not like yours. He glanced at your cauldron, which was filled with bright red liquid: a perfect job. His shoulders slumped.

“Mm, not bad,” said Daphne as soon as she was beside him. “You were supposed to stir five times before adding Leech Juice, not six.”

“I got distracted," he muttered, sending you a glance. You had asked the other boy — whose name was ‘Dean’ as he heard you say more times than he can count (you had only said his name twice, but it was twice too much for Sebastian’s taste) — to grab you a pair of Billywig stings that were drying in a basket beside him and that you couldn’t reach yourself. You could’ve asked him. He had some spare stings as well — maybe not as many as Dean, he admitted, but enough for both of you.

“Right, right, by your ‘not-crush’ and her… ‘yes-crush’?”

“She doesn’t have a crush.”

“Right, she doesn’t. And it’s definitely not requited either,” Daphne remarked sarcastically, looking at you and the boy chatting merrily. Sebastian thought he might throw up in his cauldron and create a whole different brew altogether.

“Just because they’re chatting doesn’t mean there are romantic feelings involved.” He stirred the potion again in frustration, and the mixture turned purple. He cringed. Thank Merlin, he had already filled a phial to hand Professor Snape.

“Come on, I’ve been in this school longer than you, and everyone knows something is going on between her and Thomas. They’ve been at it since last year.”

“She called him ‘Dean’ before.” He frowned, his stomach churning painfully. Maybe you hadn’t asked him for his Billywig stings because he had eaten them without realising.

“Yes, Dean Thomas,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when you got close to her to ‘look at her watch’.”

“I was really looking at the watch.”

“Yeah, well. It was priceless either way.”

He felt a wave of pride strike from inside him, but he forced it back down almost immediately. Sebastian wasn’t here to date, and if you and Dean Thomas had something going on, then so be it. He didn’t care, anyway. He didn’t care that you had just lightly punched the boy’s arm, laughing at something he had said (Was he that funny?), or that he had asked you if you could study together this evening (So graceful), or that you had said ‘Yes’ and he had told you to meet him in the Library (That was his brand).

Sebastian had promised himself to stay away from you, and that’s exactly what he was planning to do.

But he had also promised himself to catch up on his studies, so how bad could it be if he ‘followed’ you there?

And the Library was a public place, open to any student, so how bad could it be if he accidentally sat near your table? Or at it?

“Please, don’t.” Daphne’s voice brought him back.

“Don’t what?”

“Follow her to the Library tonight. That would be pathetic. And stop staring , it’s creepy.”

Sebastian just wanted Daphne to stop walking around him and hitting all the right spots. Was she a Legilimens or what?

“I—I wasn’t planning to.” His face flushed with his lie, and he sighed deeply again. “I just... I mean, I need to study too. And I wasn’t staring.”

Daphne sighed, dropping the subject. He suspected she thought it was no use arguing with him. He was actually glad for that reasoning.

"Come on. We still have another hour to go through. Try to pay attention.” She said tiredly.

You had left the class with the Gryffindor that day, leaving Sebastian absolutely fuming like his messed up potion he had half a mind to dump into Dean's morning pumpkin juice.

[Read more]

Taglist:

@lovely-maryj @yuzuhasbae @mosf13 @rbfacee @prichuchan-blog @h0neeyy @lina-prongs @moonlightsolo @ninicol @gayandfairycore @nanako-sakura @epicy0n @shiro-from-cafeberry @pugsnotdrugs92 @cappsikle @peacedreamer14

(I'm still having trouble tagging some of you, sorry :( )

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wetcatspellcaster · 3 months

Note

Did you see Neil Newbon’s take that Ascended Astarion is the real him free to act on cruelty and violence and the spawn is the one with the mask? Yeesh.

Ooooooh, THAT'S the disk horse that's happening right now!! I knew something was happening (I felt a tremor in the waters) but I had no clue what it was lmao, I don't follow cast stuff.

I will try to respond to this in good faith, but I'm not very good at fandom discourse and so I'm afraid it may not be the answer you want.

I can see why that reading might make people angry, but I dont have strong feelings about it. Obviously, it's not my take on Ascension, but from the beginning I've been very upfront that my take is serving the genre I'm writing in and the ship dynamics I find hot. My Tav is lawful good to an unhealthy extreme, and that was how she was conceived in her Early Access bullying phase. And meanwhile, I wanted to be in a Gothic horror where he's obsessed (morality chains will do that to you) and they beat the shit out of each other. I have to make the Ascendent a monster, for that to work, and for people not to feel guilty every time they enjoy watching him getting stepped on lmao.

But I do feel like there is a morality policing around Astarion's ending that I don't want to partake in. This might seem dumb for me to say, given that my Tav is a veritavle walking moral policeman, but that is bc I fucking love Villain/Heroine ships, so I am literally right there, at the Devil's Sacrament with everyone else.

While I like the good ending and prefer it for many reasons, I would agree with a reading of Newbon's words that it could be read as a mask. This might be bc I mask with the best of them, am doing it right now even as I write and edit this ask 20 times. There's masking as an outright lie, and then there's masking as 'gotta get through day to day life as a functional adult without everyone suddenly deciding they hate me'... I personally think its nice that spawn!Astarion cares about other people, and cares about being a functional member of society at all! It shows he's no longer a lonely outcast.

I could also go deeper (the autism really shining through in this reply) and say it's a mask, in the sense that this has been deemed the 'polite' and morally correct ending, that is acceptable to others and enables the player to feel good about themselves. Which is often a way we derive pleasure from media, and not wrong in and of itself! Making Astarion good makes players feel good - that's not wrong, but if we're comparing endings, we have to acknowledge it. An Ascended Ending doesn't really cater to that impulse... unless the player really likes to be dommed (more power to them).

Unfortunately anon, I can't sit here with my most popular fic being an Ascended!Astarion fic, and pretend that there isn't a bunch of fascination or interest surrounding the Ascended version of his character. People clearly want to explore the implications of his evil ending and indulge in the excess of it, but feel bad doing so. People don't ascend him in-game, but they go to my fic and other people's fic because they want to have some space to enjoy the implications - in the sexiness, in the timeline where Astarion has revenge, in a timeline where he is obsessed with Tav etc. I mean, just look at me, I can't sit through the Ascended scene, but I'm here writing a fic about it!!

The fact that it seems to happen more in fic than in playthroughs tells me, if I was to get super deep in a tumblr ask, that people feel guilt about it. Some kind of mask is being employed, by someone, somewhere, in that mix. So I'm not about to add to any of that kind of policing. It would be pretty disingenuous of me to get my most feedback from an Ascendent fic I am writing, and then judge people for liking Ascendency narratives...

So while I don't have much interest in pretending the evil ending isn't the evil ending, that doesn't sound to me (second hand, through you, with my brain seeing 7 or 8 different implications) to be what Newbon is saying. He's just saying that the Ascendent is the less palatable Astarion to other people and that spawn!Astarion still has some kind of mask or a politeness filter on. Which... yeah. Kinda. In my world, I like that Astarion decides its worthwhile to restrain himself, because he has things to care about potentially ruining. But that's still in many ways employing restraint. People don't just stop masking, they learn to care about what others think in a healthy way. They have friendships, relationships, other ties to the world, that make them want to be something other than a cruel or violent or evil version of themselves. I think that's nice, and far less lonely but um... yeah. I can see Newbon's point, even if I don't want to like, live or die by it.

#i can't do discourse don't make me do discourse I'm sorry if you just wanted me to agree and i ended up making it deep #asks #anons #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth #i think the morality of both endings is pretty cut and dry #its the 7000 murders for me that makes that clear #but in terms of interpreting Ascended!Astarion i doctored my reading heavily to achieve the story i wanted to tell #i dont consider it canon or anything approaching canon

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still-with-koo · 6 months

Note

Ok Lo 🥹 with teary eyes I am here to discuss Vincenzo.

But I wanna read your thots first!

VINCENZO!!! yes let’s discuss!!! but first and foremost THANK YOU for recommending it. seriously i had given up mid-way thru the first ep a few months ago but no one can deny you have the best taste 😘😘

I LOVED IT!!! it’s actually now in my top 5 of all time. i binged the hell out of it, it was that good. (i even stayed up nights watching 😭)

(the rest under the cut with spoilers)

i think the standout for me was song joongki, mostly bc of how adorable he is 🥺 i wanted to squish his cheeks (and other things 🥴) and him and hanseo???! the softness! the lil face slaps! him finding hanseo cute! 🥺 and kwak dongyeon was perfection. i cant remember the last time i saw a redemption arc that massive 😳 oh, actually the only one i can think of to compare it to is steve from stranger things. he went from being kinda annoying to one of my absolute favourite characters. the fact that he tried to fit in with the trio was so adorable, i couldn’t stop saying ‘cute, aww cute’ pretty much everytime he came on screen after he switched to vincenzo’s side. remember when they quizzed him 🥺 he studied. he actually studied. pls he just wanted a head pat and someone to tell him he was doing a good job :((( he was actually such a sweetie pie, imagine if he didnt have the devil incarnate as a brother, he would have turned out so well. vincenzo was the brother he deserved 💔 and i just, i can’t get over how things ended for him (wait no they didn’t end, he’s definitely coming back in season 2!!) tbh i was actually pretty mad at vincenzo for not stepping in and doing something, anything, to stop what happened. to save him. 💔 he’s such a skilled fighter, i feel like he could have jumped in and maybe avoided… i can’t even say it 😭

ok, but on a happier note, vincenzo’s relationship with chayoung was also super adorable, that slow burn was everything! EVERYTHING!! their 10 second hug? her smacking him? 🤣

(he’s so attractive 😭😭)

and chayoung was such a badass character, i wish i could be that brave and assertive. and man oh man, she is so strong! the way things ended with her dad, that scene was heartbreaking :(((

ok switching back to happy, can we talk about the male on male affection in this show?? i never get to see it and it’s just so disappointing bc yes! pls hug each other! kiss each other! tell each other you admire the other! it’s healthy! it’s freeing! i’m such a sucker for tiny displays of affection, and his interactions with everyone had me clutching my blanket on the verge of tears. ugh every single person in this kdrama was adorable. the intelligence agent especially, his awestruck admiration for vincenzo had me both soft and cackling 🤣

(pls he’s so funny 🤣 also, perfect timing??)

but all the geumga plaza ppl were surprisingly cute with really interesting back stories. it’s funny, i was thinking to myself how weird it was that all of them had some special talent and then they said the same thing seconds later 🤣

the estranged mother side story was also heartbreaking. i wish they had more time together and that he could have called her mom, but i understand him and why he couldn’t say anything. at least they both knew it before she died, and i’m so grateful chayoung was there to bring them together 🥺💕 the scene where she hugged him, i bawled. and when she was talking about him as he was bawling. and then again when he read her letter 😭

ok last but not least, taecyeon!! i can’t believe i didn’t recognize him??! but he did such an amazing job. and the plot twist was perfection, i was in shock and that hardly ever happens for me (my stupid brain always anticipates plotlines 😭😭) i went from finding him adorable to being in love to hating him resolutely to feeling really sorry for him all in the span of a few eps. although i can never forgive him for how he treated hanseo 😔

but he is an incredible actor! and the writers are also amazing. choi myunghee also did a fantastic job! i hated her but i guess i was supposed to 🤣 oh! that scene when vincenzo came to their hq and shot his mother’s killer gave me goosebumps, it was so well done 👏

i rambled on here oops… but there was sooo much to talk about! there’s a lot more but i should stop here haha. who were your favourite characters?! favourite moments?!

#i could seriously go on and on 😂#this show had everything!#it was just perfect without being overdone #i usually dislike law shows bc the inaccuracies annoy me but they did a pretty good job - even if the retrial was too much of a reach)#ok i’ll stop now 😩#but tell me everything! i want to hear it all!#kie <3 #my favourite doom #vincenzo

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rinbowaman · 13 days

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i believe my bf heelel is into some kinks. i wonder- like curious to know what kinks and positions he has tried so far on the reader,u dont have to describe them if u dont want to,u can even list it out idm!

Oh it’s fine. Lol this blog knows no shame.

So since Se7en is about or over a year old now (maybe more, can’t remember off the top of my head) let’s just say….a shorter list is what hasn’t he done…bc by now, you both covered every single position known to man and have done a lot…ALOT. Heelel has no limits or boundaries, since he is so very obsessed with reader, he has done everything (even against her own wishes) that’s the type of guy he is. It’s not necessarily just bc he’s the devil. It’s bc he is insanely in love with you that he has to (metaphorically speaking) devour every inch of you. I’m talking fucking your tits, anal, and oral (both you and him receiving. I picture him being very fond of the 69 position.)

Like heethan, he is also a masochist. But he kind of overdoes it bc…he’s the devil. He wants to see broken skin, blood, toes curling, and screams. Ofc it’s all in the line of pleasure, like he’s never going to just go and do physical harm to you that would cause great pain and injury for no reason. To everyone else, yes. Do you? No. But pain with pleasure, hell yeah.

I’ve also had a random thought of just how far he would go in his pace and momentum, and the man is relentless. I randomly thought of him fucking reader so hard, that she ended up vomiting due to exhaustion and just being railed so hard. (It was seriously a random thought bc sometimes I think about heelel and heethan from time to time.) but that gives you an idea.

I also had a thought where he stole Asmodeus’s ancient and original scripture of the Kama Sutra, and kept it so he could replicate all the positions with you, and even alternate some of them to better fit his desire. He loves making you feel good, but there are some times…the man is selfish and wants to feel good, even if you’re hurting.

My random thought about the anal piece was when I was answering some asks. I didn’t draft it but it came to my head out of nowhere and the way I saw it go down is, reader being hesitant bc she’s never done it before and wasn’t feeling too comfortable about it, but heelel forced the issue and pretty much restrained her with his own hands and just went for it. He was rough all up until he lined the tip to her rear, he actually got a bit gentle bc he knew it was her first time doing it, so he kind of verbally guides her. “Take a deep breath baby, this is going to sting a little.” Heelel spent lifetimes playing (and murdering) the succubus’s and stray angels, so he’s very experienced. I pictured him clicking his tongue and tapping the tip of his d*ck on your rear cheeks and calmly telling you to take a deep breath, and exhale as he enters. He still had readers wrists pinned behind her lower back with one hand while he used the other to slide in and as he goes in inch by inch, he would say things like “breath, hold. Now exhale.” And once he was all the way in, he’d thrust in and out at a very slow pace, giving you time to stop sobbing and start enjoying. Once he hears your moans coming in, he’ll pick up the pace and go harder and harder. He’ll watch reader go from sobbing victim of non-con to a filthy minx that wants more of him. And he loves to witness that transition. The second time around you guys do it, he ditches the slow and understanding pace and just goes for it, making that first noise coming out of your mouth a sharp yelp.

He’s very dominate, so any position that would render him vulnerable is out the window. He’s always going to be in control. Sven if you’re on top, those hands of his are going to be squeezing your waist and you’re basically being lifted repeatedly and slammed down by his rhythm.

On oral sex….bro…I picture this dude to be extremely brutal! Like making you choke on it, taking it out every once in a while to slap your face with it, sticking it back in your mouth and forcing you to gag on it until your throat bleeds. He’s a raging beast and that’s the whole reason why he made you go through all his brothers to turn you immortal, bc mortal version do you won’t survive.

He has a few favorite positions: reverse cowgirl, standing missionary, you straddled on his lap while he’s on his throne, and doggy.

And yes…he still likes to give it to you in his demon form or partially demon form. A lot of ppl did not like this or felt uncomfortable, but that’s what heelel likes. He’s twisted and very sadistic (the devil y’all) and he likes to make reader uncomfortable sometimes bc he loves seeing you scared and begging, but loves it even more when he sees you transition from being scared to wanting him more. I usually picture him doing you with his horns/antlers protruding out of his head. Since he doesn’t have regular devil horns like the devil is traditional portrayed with, he has a pair of beautiful and magnificent antlers, like an elk. When he’s in his full demon form, he almost looks like a wendigo, and he can adjust his size and be either colossal (like in the battle towards the end of the series) or he can be 7 feet tall (which is usually how big he’ll become when fucking you…get ready to take in 12 inches)

When he is fucking you in his demon form, it is very sinful and demonic, and you’ll feel very ashamed and dirty after it’s all done, but he won’t care. All he can think about is how much you were screaming and begging for him to keep going. Again, it always starts off with you fighting and begging him to not do it, but once he starts hurting your spot and making you leak everytime the tip of his dick punches it, you kind of go dumb (literally fucks uou dumb) and you’re a slob wrong mess.

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valleyxdoodles · 28 days

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So…uhh…

HI. I’ve low key been stalking your page and can I rq a fix with Shikaku?? (Oh lord I need help) I saw you write for everyone for naruto minus you know gramps and the snake pedo…so Shikaku should be okay right?

OK IMMA RUN LIKE A SCHOOL GIRL NOW, BYE—

OMG YESSSS my second request!! Yes love I do indeed write for Daddy Cocku I MEAN SHIKAKU! (Also what the hell is you and Shikaku fixing? The fact you ain’t preggers?)

Unfortunately You did not send in what type of sene you wanted to uh…I’m going to write what every girl thinks about when she sees this man. (Or every other person, I don’t discriminate bc that’s SO 1998) SHIKAKU SMUT COMING YOUR WAY, MY DEAR!

fourty one years old. That’s how old your crush was. You your self were only eighteen, so Legally all he could be your father,but did that stop you from crushing on a two time war hero? Hell no. Your daddy issues were on a whole other PLANE with how bad they were. You definitely should NOT have been crushing on Shikamaru’s father, but oh well.

But who said that the crush was one sided?

Your ass, tits, hips, dressing style, YOU . That was all Shikaku could think about nowadays. His wife was gone now, up in a better place. And his mind travels further into the devil’s territory when that happened. Perhaps he was in the wrong, but you weren’t a minor anymore…just barley old enough to- he couldn’t, he mustn’t think like that, he’s been training you all your life. Ever since you were thirteen. He shouldn’t be thinking tease thoughts now. Surely there was a person of perferable age. Yes, there has to be. Who would want a go at that- Dear Lord, he needed help.

“Ha! As if that would ever be true,” Ino said, sitting next to her father. You giggled and said, “I mean, I could be. You could be having twins, Ino.” Inochi paled and said, “I hope it’s not twin girls at the very least.” Ino and you laughed at his remark and Ino went into a conversation with Shikamaru’s about Temari and how she was doing in her pregnancy. You took the time to slip away to the coolers and grab yet another drink, you weren’t old enough to drink yet and you surely weren’t about to risk being caught underage drinking in front of your boss. “Hello, Fawn,” the deep, gruff voice you were familiar with said, smiling you replied, “Hello, Sensei.” You grabbed a cherry coke and popped the tap open. You took a sip and said, “You want something?” “Yes, a bottle of beer,” you rolled your eyes and said, “Here,” handing him a bottle of the ungodly drink. He took it and said, “Thank you very much.” You nodded and strolled off, feeling the warm summer breeze. “Wonder when I’ll get knocked up?” You murmured aloud, staring at the dandelions growing wildly in the grass. “Hmm, I wondered the same thing the other day, Sis.”

you nearly jumped out of your skin. “Shika! You scared me,” you said, turning your head to look at Shikamaru’s face. He smirked and said, “Boo.” You rolled your eyes. “You were wondering when you’ll get preggers? Boy, I’m pretty sure you have to be gay for that shit in your case,” you joked, throwing a playful insults his way. He punched your shoulder lightly, something Temari would’ve chewed his ear off for if she had been there. “Calm down, boy. We don’t want to damage me before my big mission do we?” “Riiiight, that drag of a mission my dad and you gotta take. Why is he even going? He should be retired at this point.” He’s right. He shouldn’t be going, you thought, crouching down and picking a flower. “You know, those were my mom’s favorites?” Shikamaru said, you stood up, holding a flower in the left hand and cherry coke In The right. “Yeah…I miss her.”

“Me too. It’s fucked up that cancer ran in her family.” “Yeah…” you looked up at the sky and sighed, “enough of this sappy shit, Nara. Let’s eat!” You said, walking back towards the cookout, you could smell steak being made on the grill, Choza’s curtesy. Shikamaru wasn’t far behind you and eventually you two ended up racing to the grill. You won and your reward was your coke spilled all over you white tee shirt. “Shit.” You threw the tee shirt off and said, “Good thing I wore my swimsuit underneath, eh?”

And cue Shikaku nearly choking on his beer.

And Inochi openly staring at you breasts.

Choza respectfully looked the other way along side his son, but shikamaru quickly gave his sweatshirt and said, “Jesus Christ, Y/n. Warn a man net time you flash you tits!” You giggled and said, “Sorry, Shika. Didn’t know you were still perverted even after living with Temari.” Shikamaru blushed and said, “Oh shut up!” And stomped away. “Hahaha!” You laughed, holding your stomach. The sweater was getting a bit too hot from how worked up your body was so you said, “Ino? Can I borrow a shirt?”

Cue Ino getting an evil ass Idea. She knew of your…liking towards the elder Nara and so, she simply nodded and said, “Follow me.” What would look good with those awfully plain beige shorts? She’ll look like a park ranger if I give her a whit shirt, and she’ll look like Sarah La’Craft if I give her a black one…hmm…

“Here!” Ino said tossing you a crop top of a tie dyed Coca-Cola tee shirt. You threw it on and said, “Don’t you sleep in this?” Ino shook her head, “No, I sleep in the purple Fanta one.” You pursed you lips and said, “It’s a bit short, Ino…” “I’m the oldest one right now and I say Poppycock!” Ino chimed, you huffed. You hated it when she used that argument. “Fine!” You groaned, walking out of Ino’s room. When you got back out side, Shikamaru and Chogi were water wrestling in the pool. “Oi! Who’s winning?” “I am!” Chogi shouted, “No, I am!” Shikamaru called, “It’s a tie,” Shikaku said, closing his eyes. “Ahh. Well uhh…GO CHOGI!” “What the hell, Sis?! I’ve known you longer than him!” “He shares his chips with me! Unlike youuu!” You sang, Shikamaru paused to glare at you and then-

SLOOOSH!

“WHOOHOO! WAY TO GO, CHOGI!” You shouted, jumping up and down, your shirt moving up, revealing your bikini top and then back down to cover it. Shikaku was smiling, pretending to be giving a nod in congrats to Chogi when in reality he was staring at you out the corner of his eye. Wouldn’t mind seeing that whilst she rides… was the sinful thought that over took his mind. He shook his head and groaned. “You okay, Dad?” “Yeah, just…to much beer, I think.” “I told you, your too old to be drinking that stuff.” “Oh, what do you know? You can’t even drink! Your only twenty!” “And who says I don’t drink, uh?” “I’ll beat your ass boy.” You stifled your laughs with Ino and you watched the argument. “Ohh, you think this is funny, Fawn?” Shikaku said, smiling a dangerous smile. You flattered and said, “Uhh…” “We’ll settle this like adults…With a water fight.” You blinked. “How is that grown? Huh, Gramps?” Shikaku smirked before saying, “In the pool and I’ll show you.” You laughed on singular, loud laugh and said, “Fine then.”

you threw off your top and then your shorts and jumped into the pool, “C’mon in, Gramps!” Shikaku rolled his eyes before flopping i on his back. “Hello, Little One.” You scoffed and splashed him. “Shut up!” You said, “Now…I don’t think a shinobi who works under me has ever had the nerve to say that to my face.” And he splashed you back. And with that, you two swam around avoiding one another’s attacks. Once he snuck up behind you and grabbed you, “One, two-Ah!” He shouted, when you kicked his knee and swam away, “you gotta be quicker than that, gramps!” He laughed and swam after you. You two barley noticed how many cheers you were getting from your friends.

You smiled and said, “Find me.” And used a secret justu only know to your clan to melt and become one with the water. And you could breath just fine, smoothly moving around Shikaku as he wadded, scanning the water for a suspicious amount of turquoise that you turned the water. He put a hand right over your face and said, “Found ya.” You huffed and remolded back into a human. “That’s was fast.” “I’m the Jonin commander, I have to be fast.” You giggled into the back of your hand. “Explains.” Shikaku smiled and started to float on his back. “This is nice…what the hell were we even doing?” He muttered, looking at you, who was now sitting on the edge of the pool, feet in the water, chatting with Ino. He saw you blush and saw your eyes go as wide as dinner plates. “Yamanaka Ino!” He heard you scold the pregnant woman, she laughed and said, “It’s true. You were.” Shikaku sort of wanted to know the rest of the convo but he decided against it and closed his eyes.

“Bye, I’ll see you guys later!” You said, waving your friends goodbye. You had to be up and around by four in the morning so you needed an early night of rest. “Oh, thank god. I thought I’d never leave,” you grumbled. Ofcourse you were going home, hello no. You were going to stop by the convenience store to buy a six pack. You felt like you were being watched but no one was right right now. It was twelve in the morning. Who would be ou right now? Your ass. Shikaku’s ass.

“Hello, Fawn,” he said, you turned around and glared at him, “I KNEW IT!” You shouted in your mind. Outside you said, “Hello, Sensei.” He Adored hearing the word, ‘Sensei’ fall from your lips. And speaking of your lips e noticed you were nibbling on the lower one. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing him as if you wished to kill the grown man in front of you. He smiled, “There is. A nice young lady is walking home by herself.” You blinked and rolled your eyes playfully. “And who might that be? Because I’m damn close to being a Jonin so I know it ain’t me.” “It is you.” You smiled softly up at the commander and said, “Well, then. I never thought my own Sensei would have such little faith in me.” “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you…it’s just that it’s a natural instinct t for a father to want to protect.” You felt guilt eating away at you. “Yeah, it is, isn’t?” You asked softly, “Something wrong with that?”

“No, of course not!”

Yes I just so happen to dream of you ruining any traces of innocence I have left every night and then you go and say shit like this and I feel extraordinarily guilty.

“Good, good…” Shikaku said, feeling rather awkward.

She’s just turned eighteen, she’s just turned eighteen she’s just turned eighteen she’s just turned eighteen she’s just—very attractive…

“Well, it’s getting cold, we should head home…” you said, looking the other way, knowing you had negative chances of filing through with your plan. You were so lost in your mind you didn’t even notice how Shikaku was starting at you-xand mane the becasue he himself didn’t even notice…Your sides were on display for all to see, as were your boobs considering you decided to walk home In Your bikini top. “Khm, Y/n?” Shikaku said, you didn’t even hear, the inside voices were arguing so loudly…

“Y/N.” Shikaku said sternly, holding your chin with a firm grip. “Are feeling okay?” He asked more gently, you finally looked up at him and nearly died when you saw how close you two were, “…Fine!” You squeaked, your eyes darting all around, “…You took your medication today, correct?” “Yes, Dad,” you groaned, rolling your eyes, now annoyed with him and yourself. No, of course you didn’t take your med. why would have you? There were enough distractions today to…to…to what? What did you need distractions for? You anxiety. That’s what. “Y/n, you just lied to me again, didn’t you?” “Again? What do you mean again?” “Y/n…don’t avoid the question.”

“I’m not avoiding any damn question, Shikaku!” You said hotly, shoving him away, “God, you act like you—you…Lord.” You breathed, fear evident in your face. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking past you, glaring at something—Or someone.

“Hey! Y/n!”

Not him, not him, not him!

You chanted I. You head. “Hello, (ex name).” You said, turning around. He man looked down at you and smiled. “I see your still dressing like a slut.” He said calmly, “so, your with the head of the Nara clan now, eh?” “Retired head of clan. And No. I’m her Sensei, you dumb fuck.” You turned around and looked at Shikaku again, seeing he was more than angry. You paled and barley said, “Let’s just go.” You started to grab shikakus hand but you were stopped by Shikaku himself. “Right right. This idiot isn’t worth Our time.” And grabbed you around your shoulders in what he hopped was a fatherly gesture. You smiled and said, “Yeah, he isn’t. Is he?” “Not a millisecond.” You giggled as you two walked off, leaving the drunken ex dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that,” Shikaku said, standing on your doorstep. You smiled and said, “Shikaku, it’s more than fine. Any chance to piss of that bastard I’ll take.” On the inside you were debating weather to invite him in or not. “Would you like to come inside for a few?” You asked, smiling ever innocently. Shikaku nodded and said, “Sure, why not?” You guided him into the kitchen and said, “I’ll make some tea…what kind do you like?” “Camomile. Calms the nerves,” he said, you nodded and shakily grabbed the tea.

He’s going to see my med cup still has my pills in it….

“Y/n?” Shikaku said gruffly, eyeing your back. “Y-yes?” Your voice was higher than normal. “We both know what I’m about to scold you for, don’t we?” “No…” you lied, shaking, “Wh-what?” Yo barley said, “Your pills are still in the cup.” You nearly fainted. Fuck he was hot when he was angry. You heard him get up, heard him walk the short distance from the table to you. You could feel the heat from his body radiating off him, and smell all the cigarettes he smoked that day. “Did you lie to me?” You nodded, “Yes, I did.”

SMACK!

“Shik-Shikaku!” You gasped, Turing your head to look at him. He had a pleased smile on his face. “Sweetheart, why did you lie to me?” He asked softly, “Why’d you slap my ass?” You clapped back.

SMACK, SMACK SMACK!

”Shikaku!” You shouted, eyes wide and staring at your counter top. “Answer me.” Was all he said, “Because i-…I—….I don’t know,” you whispered, tears lining your lashes. Tears of Fear. “You dunno?” He murmured into your ear, “No, Sir.” “Well, then. All Shinobi should be honest and respectful…especially towards their elders. And what have you been today?” “A brat?” You asked, somehow still having sassy replies in you. “That’s right. A lil’ brat,” he said, “And do you know what I do to brats?” “No,” you breathed, he gently caressed your sides, “I teach them how to behave.”

(Alright the smutty shit starts here. MINORS DO NOT EAD (if yo mamas home that is) AND MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT INTERACT)

Why did I lie, why did I lie?

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK

“You gon’ b’have now?” Shikaku slurred, you nodded quickly. “Yes, sir!” You nearly sobbed, you were tears because of how ROUGH he was. Shikaku smiled and said, “Good.” He let you walk away a few feet, and breath. “Lord…how did shikamaru survive getting whooped by you?” You asked, looking at your Sensei who had just lit a cig in the middle of your kitchen. “No idea. Then again, I wasn’t a very good father. Still not.” You smiled, “Well, I think you had to have been a good dad because my ass still stings.” Shikaku coughed and spat out hack into your sink. “Damn, Y/n! Don’t say such out of pocket things!” Shikaku shouted, You laughed, enjoying your revenge.

“Thought you were going to behave, Fawn?” You gulped, “I am.” You said, “Then take your meds. And sit down.” You did as you were told, sitting down and then taking your meds. As you gulped down the last pill you saw shikaku’s shadows wrap around your thighs, they were cold and thick. “Sen-Sensei?” You stuttered, looking up at him, confused. He smiled, “You derserve a small reward, doncha think?” He asked. You didn’t know what to say, “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good this time.” And he didn’t lie, his shadows made contact with your clit and it felt good. So good. “Shika-Shikaku!” You gasped, feeling the circles being rubbed into your sensitive bud. “Ahh!” You shouted and he slapped your thigh, “That’s a good girl,” he praised, “you feel good, don’tcha?” He asked, you nodded rapidly. “So good!” You said, gripped the edges of the chair, “Ohh, Sensei!” You whined as his shadows sped up, Shikaku was now sitting next to you, palming himself, thinking about how cute you would look on his cock.

“Daddy…”

The whine nearly made Shikaku fuck you then and there, and you thought he would with how fast he got up to pin you into your chair. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” He gritted his teeth whilst saying, “What now, Brat?”

😃

so I need Jesus now so uhh…Part two? Maybe? Idk bye loves.

#valley writes #naruto shippuden #Shikaku nara #shikaku Nara x reader #Nara x reader #reader insert #Shikaku x reader #DILFDILFDILFDIFL #AGE GAAAAAAAP #minors do not interact #minors dni

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