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cherry-leclerc · 7 months

Text

certain way in stages ☆ cl16

genre: childhood friends to lovers, yearning, humor, slow-burnish

word count: 10.5k

Being in love is bittersweet at times. You and Charles both lived proof of that. It’s been a long time coming.

inspired by this !

Growing up, you always wished for the most perfect meet-cute a girl could ever experience. For instance, you dreamt of a grumpy millionaire suddenly having a soft spot and falling for your undeniable charm. Or perhaps you would fall in love with the boy from your nearest ice cream parlor, who would always give you an extra scoop just because, though both of you would know that wouldn’t be the case.

As you grew older, you came to terms that stuff like that didn’t really exist. You weren’t living in a romcom. You weren’t living in your favorite love story. Over and over, you would remind yourself that it was fine and you can make do, but just the tiniest piece of you still wondered.

“Darling, true love does exist. I can reassure you." Pascale comforted you as you sat in front of her. It was summer, she was braiding your hair, you were eating ice cream out of a carton, and you just went through your first heartbreak. All of this made it pretty hard to believe.

“I’m sure it does, but I suppose it’s just not for me,” you mumble with watery eyes, bringing your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop.

Pascale lets out a sad hum as she ties your hair. As you turn to look at her, she pats on the couch signaling you to take a seat next to her.

“Listen,” she starts as she grabs your hands gently. “Heartbreak isn’t nice, believe me, I know.” Suddenly, you feel like the biggest jerk in the world. How could you ever compare your silly little grief with someone who has lost the love of their life? You’re about to apologize before she presses on your hand. “Like I said, it isn’t pretty. Things like this make you feel as if it’s the end of the world - God - you almost wish it was… but there’s always more out there. Something that will shift your entire world on its axis if it hasn’t already, and you will love and enjoy it so much that it will overpower any type of pain you have ever endured.”

“What if I’m not lucky enough to have that? Who could ever want someone like me?” you whisper. You hated to make it all about yourself, but things like this always kept you up, in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you.” She brings you in for a hug and you wish you believed her words the way they flowed. “You just have to allow yourself to get to know what you need, not just what you want.”

“Trust me, I thought Noah was all I needed…”

Pascale brings up her hands to her temples, gently massaging, watercolor eyes narrowed down on you. “No, no, no. He never deserved a pretty little flower like you.”

“Maybe…” You chew on your bottom lip, slightly flinching at her stare. “Yeah. I know.”

Both of you end up curling up on the couch, gossiping about all the latest surrounding the small Monaco streets. She's getting real riled up when Charles walks in.

“I’m back!” He takes his jacket off. Once he makes his way over to Pascale, he notices you. Giving her a kiss, his eyes shift. “Lapine, what are you doing here?”

You glare. “Can’t a girl just come over to see their best friend?” Popping some kettle corn into your mouth, you continue. “When I saw you weren’t home I came to talk to your mom.”

He frowns a bit. “Sorry, I thought you knew I wasn’t going to be around. Remember it was my an-”

Immediately, you jump off the couch. “Your anniversary!” Guilt eats you up. How could you have forgotten? “No, Charles, I should be the one apologizing. Crap, I forgot.”

He smiles at your current state. “It’s alright, it went well either way…” The Monegasque shoots an eyebrow up before winking, well, his own attempt at it. You pretend to throw up at the same time Pascale makes a run for her room.

The brunette and you both plop onto the warm couch. He quickly grabs a handful of your snack before he gobbling it down. Snatching the bowl from him, you hold it close against your chest. “This is my popcorn,” you greedily say. His hand reaches out for more which you swiftly swat away.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! I told you this is mine.”

He furrows his brows. “You were just sharing some with my mom!”

“You said it. With Pascale. Not Charles.”

The green eyed boy lets out a huff. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” Your vision gets blurry before you even have a chance to pretend you were totally fine, but you’re not. Not even a little. If anyone could tell it would always be him.

“It’s Noah.” You look away because it’s only a matter of time before Charles’ judgy face makes an appearance. You always knew he never liked him, but now was not the time for that reminder. “Nevermind.”

Shifting his body to face you Charles says, “You know I’m always here for you. You can tell me anything.”

Your chin begins to wobble and all the sensitivity in the world is beginning to catch up with you.

Sobbing you begin. “I wish I could tell you where it all went wrong, but God I wish I knew myself.” Your shoulders shake up and down by how hard you’re crying. “I don’t know what I did! I mean I never did anything wrong, but Charles the way he looked at me made me feel as if I did! I’ve never felt so…so…dirty.”

First thing Charles thinks is how much he wants to go pay Noah a nice little visit and second is how much it hurts him to see you like this. He’d pay an endless amount of sum if that meant you would go back to your natural, cheery self.

So, with sobs echoing through his family home, he grabs your hands. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Staring back at him with glassy eyes, you let out a wet laugh. Slowly, you start to cackle. Charles finds himself wondering if you’ve gone mad.

“Yes I did. I just know I did,” you press as you wheeze, fresh tears pouring out. “Like everything else around me, I just had to go out and ruin things. God, I feel so pathetic.” Pulling your hands away, you stand up and begin to pace the room back and forth. “If I had just been enough for him then maybe Noah would have chosen me and not her. I mean how could I blame him? I would choose her too.”

Charles instantly stands up and grabs your shoulders. “Listen,” he says as you stare down at the floor. “Lapine.” You dig your nails into the palm of your hands as you lift your attention to him. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you a broken record or something? You already said that.”

“No, you must be the broken record here by the way you keep blaming yourself when I know you’re smart enough to decipher that none of this is your fault. He’s a fucking dick.” Like always, when you’re losing your mind, Charles is always there for you in a way you're almost embarrassed to say no one else is.

Wearing a weak smile, you go in and hug him. “I just wish for once I was someone’s first choice,” you mumble into his chest.

God, Charles thinks to himself. If only you knew you were mine.

“She’s so sweet, so lovely!” Pascale squeals as she makes her way into the kitchen with a handful of daisies tied together with a sad looking ribbon.

Charles and Arthur are cleaning their helmet visors as they munch on crackers. “Maman, you’re dropping dirt everywhere,” Charles states as he stares at the now dirty tiles.

“Well if we’re playing that game, then there’s crumbs everywhere.”

The Monegasque shuts up right away.

Later on that same day, he decides to go on a bike ride. He’d just gotten one for his 8th birthday that he was dying to brag out. Running out the door, Pascale warns him: “Only around the neighborhood, Cha!”

“Oui!”

Just as he was tying his shoelaces, he spots a girl around his age walking up to him. She’s so pretty, he remembers thinking.

“Hi!” you chirp as your right arm remains behind your back. “I’m new around here. Just moved to the house next door.” You sheepishly point to the cream-ish house that sits next to his.

“Nice.”

You squint your eyes at slightly before kicking the dirt surrounding your Mary Janes. Your arm makes an appearance with the same daisies he remembers his mom adding into a flower vase. “These are for you! I hope you like them.”

He reaches out to accept before dropping them next to his helmet. Your stomach churns.

“You don’t like them?” Your pretty little eyes begin to well up. He quickly panics, hurriedly getting on his knees to pick up the wilted flowers.

“What? Of course I do!” he yelps as he brings them up to his nose to take a whiff. “Smells good too!”

A few tears roll down your cheeks as you begin to walk away. “It’s fine. Keep them. Throw them. I don’t care.”

He bolts after you before grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I never meant to make you cry!”

Wiping your warm tears away, you looked down at your locked hands. He lets go.

“Take me on a bike ride and I might just forgive you,” you challenge.

So he did. That same day he crashed it when your hair flew into his face and didn’t let him see where he was steering, and while he might have cried a bit, he didn’t really care. Because that was the day he met his best friend.

Charles fell in love with you when you were both seventeen. Maybe a bit later than expected but it was as sweet as it could get.

“She so likes you,” Arthur tells him one day over a round of video games. Charles quickly pauses the game before turning to his younger brother.

“You really think so?”

Lorenzo, who was sitting nearby reading his book, perks up. “It’s as clear as daylight. You guys are meant for eachother.”

Charles was on a sudden high; I mean if everyone else saw it, it just had to be true. Without finishing a second thought, he dashed up the flight stairs so fast that he almost face planted a couple of times. Rapidly, he runs to his window where he knows he would find you sitting in your room.

Laying on your bed with your legs kicked up against the wall, he could tell you were on a phone call.

Psst, he hissed as he tried to catch your attention. You look around your room confused. I’m right here, he speaks up as he dangles a bit over his open window. Sweetly, you excuse yourself, hanging up, and making your way over.

“What’s up?”

All of a sudden, he doesn’t know what else to say. Bright eyes stare back at him and his heart thuds loudly, hands nervously sweat. “Uhhh…”

Weirded out, you walk to your closet and grab your shoes. “Wanna go for some ice cream?”

Like always, you both met outside as you began to walk to the nearest ice cream parlor. “What flavor are you getting?” you asked as you twiddled with the ring he had gifted you for your fifteenth birthday.

“Strawberry. You?”

“Not sure.” You curiously squint at the nearby tourists.

Walking in, Charles orders his own cone as you stroll around trying to decide. “Lemon? No. Sherbert? Ah, gross…” He takes a seat while you mumble to yourself. “Um, what about-”

“Rocky Road?” a voice recommends. Both you and Charles look up and find a tall looking boy with shaggy hair. Your heart quickens as you begin to blush. “Rocky Road sounds good, I’ll take one.”

Charles felt his stomach churn with an unfamiliar feeling. Jealousy. He rises up, sourly making his way. “She doesn’t like chocolate.”

With a cold stare, you scowl towards the Monegasque. “I actually love chocolate.” Hastily, you turn your attention back, beaming kindly. “Strawberry and chocolate, please.”

As you both sit on the benches outside, you hum quietly. “Would you mind telling my mom I’ll be home for dinner on time?”

It was still early when you asked, so he pondered on why you wouldn’t just be walking home with him. “Can’t you tell her yourself?” He knows he’s being rude - and there was truly no reason for that - but he felt bitter. He knew why.

“Charlie. Please. You know Theo asked me out to go watch a movie with him at the drive- in!” The way your eyes glimmered and glistened had him wishing they were shining like that for him and not Theo from the ice cream shop.

“Fine.”

Walking back home, he felt like the same wilted flowers you had gifted him when you were both younger. The brunette kicks a mountain of rock, flinching.

If I had just asked her out sooner. Late. Late. Late. Always too late.

It's been a few months now since your break up and you were feeling better. You don’t even remember why you even loved Noah in the first place. Realizing he never really cared enough to try was a tough pill to swallow, but you managed to dig yourself out the hole.

Twirling around in your heels, you walk up and down the hallway, presenting yourself with an awful catwalk. “How do I look?” Steady hands grip your hips as you lean playfully and blow a kiss.

“Beautiful!” Pascale squeals, clapping.

“Lovely,” Lorenzo follows up.

“You clean up nice, I suppose,” Arthur jokes with two thumbs up. You throw a quick scowl in his direction.

“I wish I could bring you guys along, but sadly I only got a plus one.” Tonight you would be receiving your diploma for graduating Uni, all before the actual graduation that would later follow up in a few weeks. You had decided to string Charles along since he was one of the main reasons you were even here, in this very moment. Endlessly, he would always quiz you with flashcards you would prepare.

“Nitrogen!” you yell out as you hold onto the edge of your seat. It’s been a long day and you were staring to lose it.

“Wrong. Try again.”

“Iodine!”

“We’re going over history, what does any of this have to do with the elements?” He laughs, laying the cards onto the coffee table. “You could use a break.”

With a stubborn frown, you roll over. “Taking a break won’t help. I have to keep going.” Charles studies you a bit before standing up. “Where are you going?” you interrogate, peeping an eye open.

“Why don’t we go for a swim?” he proposes.

“Oh. No. God no. I have to study.” Swiftly, your hands shoot out for the index cards.

This leads for your best friend to grab onto your legs, tugging you off the couch. You squirm, trying to hold on to the nearest pillows. “No!”

For a while, you both continue this little dance, though as you slip his grip, he ends up tugging your socks off. Charles lets out a groan as his back hits the cold floor.

Speedy, you jump off the couch. “On second thought, a swim sounds nice!”

It’s been 20 minutes of waiting and though you weren’t late for your event quite yet, you knew you had to get going. “I think I should call a cab now...” You sigh and grab your purse.

“That boy, when I get my hands on him-” Pascale doesn’t have a chance to finish her sentence before Charles casually walks in through the door. His eyes glint when he sees you standing like a doll.

“Woah. You look beautiful." The Monegasque tints pink but you only roll your eyes. Annoyed is an understatement.

“Good to hear,” you spit out. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“Date?” Charles dares question and you try not to explode in front of his family.

Turning around slowly, your hands still remain wrapped around the knob. “Yes, Charles. A date. Just me and my diploma, going on a date.”

His face goes completely pale. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Charles harshly rubs his hands over his eyes, clearly stressed out. “I’m sorry! I was out with Charlotte, I must have lost track of time.”

Looking over at his brothers and Pascale, you decide to hide your embarrassment with a shy smile. “No worries. I get it.” You were telling the truth; you did understand. Just the fact that he forgot is what hurt. He knew this was important to you. How hard you worked for this and how the only person you wanted to share this moment with was him.

With a slight wince, he excuses himself to go change. “Don’t bother,” you yell out after him. Standing on the wooden steps, he turns to see you and he could tell he's ruined it. He messed up. You couldn’t help your eyes filling up with tears and he couldn’t help but notice them. You lamely shrug your shoulders. “Lorenzo, I mean you always dress up pretty fancy,” you point out. “You seem ready. Would you mind accompanying me?”

“Of course,” he says, a trace of hesitance evident when he reaches to grab his jacket and car keys.

As the Monegasque watches Lorenzo and you drive off, he can’t help but feel angry at himself.

“It’s always her!” Charlotte yells out as Charles rests his head against the wall. This was slowly becoming a routine.

“You know it’s not like that,” he justifies.

“Oh please, do us all a favor and tell us how it is."

“I messed up,” he admits. Pascale and him had settled into a road silence, overlooking her garden.

“Yes. You did.”

Quietly, Charlotte crouches down next to Charles. “Hey,” she starts, pain lacing through her voice. “Look we’ve had a nice run, but maybe it’s time we just stop pretending that it was always going to be me.”

Charles weakly apologizes by making you a plate of pasta.

“Mmm,” you hum. “Crunchy.”

He smiles a toothy grin as he claps his hands, slightly startling you. “Crunchy is good!” As soon as you make a face and scrunch your nose, his smile fades away.

“Not your best work, C.” A shy smile escapes. Charles groans as he throws his head back, chair tipping over. A loud smack follows.

“Holy shit!” you screech, jumping off your seat. With a dizzy look, he rubs his head before mumbling with a low, I’m fine. You help him to his room where he throws himself on his bed with a thud. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

His eyes shoot open with alert, jumping off the bed. “Let’s go for a drive.”

The late night ride is always peaceful; you both don’t really have many moments like those. Sharing a bag of chips, you both enjoy the view from his Pista. It’s always been this place ever since you both discovered what you like to call, The Nicest Place In All of Monaco.

“Truth or Dare?”

The young driver should know better than to fall for your little games but he still finds himself playing, “Truth.”

You close your eyes and tap your chin. “Oh! Have you ever hooked up with a fan?” Curiosity always gets the best of you, you can’t deny it.

His face scrunches up with disgust. “I’m not talking about this with you.” A deep frown forms, pinching his forearm.

“That’s not fair, you already said Truth, so Truth it shall be.”

He squints his eyes watercolor eyes. “Says who?”

“Says me! Now spill.”

The brunette grows weirdly quiet for a nanosecond. “Yes.” When your eyes go wide with excitement he knows he should stop this before it goes on any further. “Only once, okay? No more questions.”

Theatrically zipping your lips, he chuckles and returns the question. “Dare.” He narrows his eyes and you get a queasy feeling. “Take it back. Truth.”

His mouth drops open, screeching how you couldn’t change your choice. “It wouldn’t be fair!” he tries to reason with you.

“Says who?”

“Me! I say so!”

“Bullshit. I said Truth.”

“Fine. Have you ever been in love?”

Suddenly, it feels like you're eating cardboard. Swallowing, you make a duh movement. “Yes. Of course. Noah.”

“You know that doesn’t count.”

Looking out the window, you know what he said was true. You once thought you loved Noah, but you never truly did - it was almost all an illusion.

“You’re right. It wasn’t love that I felt for him, but I’ve been in love with someone else.”

Charles wants to press you on it. Who is it? Since when? His name, age, address? Do you still think about them from time to time? But he knows you better than anyone, and as expected, you cut the game short, just as quick as it started.

“I’ll drive,” you murmur, cllimbing out of the passenger's seat.

Theo ended up moving to Boston for college, and while you were a bit bummed out, you didn’t really care too much. It was nice while it lasted.

On the other hand, Charles felt as if this was a sign from the universe. You were both eighteen now; he could make big boy moves if he wanted to.

The Monegasque takes you karting with him one day since you’ve been begging him for so long. He even helps you with your helmet as your adorably work on slipping your gloves on. “Should I cover you with bubble wrap?” he mumbles.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“You think?” he shrieks, immediately taking the helmet off. “If you think you’ll be fine then why are we even here?”

“Dick. You know I’ll be fine!” Grabbing the helmet, you throw it over your head once more. As you both walk over to your karts, you eagerly wave over to your parents who are busy conversing with Pascale. Your mom blows a kiss as Pascale sends you two thumbs up.

The drive was as good as it could get.

“You suck!” Charles exclaims as soon as he jumps out of his kart. Like a lost puppy, follow after him with a confused look.

“What do you mean? I’m basically a pro!”

Charles sharply turns, causing you as you take a step back. “Pros don’t crash in every corner and cutely follow up with a slight 'oops’.” Arthur snickers.

Arms cross over your chest, breathing out. “You think I’m cute?” The brunette awkwardly begins to blush.

“Wha-what? I think you must’ve banged your head against the wheel too many times.”

You let out a soft laugh, spoking your tongue out. “Calm down, I was just kidding.” As he watches you walk away, Charles couldn’t help but kick himself because this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to let you know just how much you take over his mind. Just seeing you attempting to learn his favorite sport had him filled with pride and affection towards you. Sure, it was quickly replaced with him being worried every time you would crash, but that’s besides the point.

“So stupid,” he mumbles to himself, drooped shoulders, pinched eyebrows, making his way towards you and his family.

“Have you thought about it?” Charles questions where you sit on his bed while he packs his suitcase. It had been a while since he had brought up the idea for you to go with him to the Canada GP, and you were still with no answer.

“I’m not sure.”

“Why not?”

“I never directly said no.”

“Yet you haven’t said yes either.”

Biting down on your lip, you balance out your options. Either you can stay here and sulk your summer away while Charles is out traveling and having fun or you tag along and join him and his crowded schedule.

“I promise I’ll get you your dream stack of pancakes with authentic maple,” he tries bribing you. And damn it, it worked.

“You've got yourself a deal.”

Chomping on your warm pancakes, you scroll through your phone as you giggle at the following Twitter thread. You giggle so hard you choke. Carlos and Charles walk in with their suits around their waist.

“Dios mío, are you okay?” Carlos checks up on you, handing his water bottle with the obnoxiously long straw. You take a sip before handing it back to him.

“I’m fine, but look.” You gesture towards your screen. Once he sees it, he looks between your phone and his teammate.

“Identical.”

The Monegasque chirps a quick; “What is it?” You hand your phone over to him as you continue slicing pieces. Carlos discretely steals a bite.

“What the fuck? I don’t even look like him,” he mumble between him and the pictures on your screen.

“His name is Lightning McQueen,” you object as you lean against your chair. The Monegasque huffs out, continuing his scrolling through people's tweets and how everyone seemed to believe they might as well be the same thing.

Carlos lets out a snort as he bumps his shoulder against yours. “Look, his face is even turning as red as the little car!” You both laugh loudly, Charles frowning. Standing up, you brush your hands against your jeans as you excuse yourself to the restroom.

Sitting down in original seat, your best friend chews up a few bites that lingered on your plate.

“Does she know?” He stops chewing.

“Knows what?” he muffles, cheeks full with bread.

“That you loveee herrr,” Carlos teases in a sing-songy voice. He immediately starts to choke. The Spaniard hands him his water bottle and he quickly downs it.

With a slightly raw voice he says, “I don’t love her. Not the way you’re thinking, at least.”

“Tell that to someone who will actually believe you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Carlos nods. “Shit.” He begins to get nervous, rubbing his hands against his face. Brown locks grows tangled when he desperately runs through it.

“Don’t worry,” the Ferrari driver tries to ease him. “She doesn’t even know it.” When Charles looks at him confused, he continues. “I mean everyone else seems to see it but her. You’re fine. Have you told her though?”

“No.”

“And what is it that you’re waiting for? I mean you’re a single man longing for the girl next door. If anything, you both should be married by now.”

“Believe me; I’ve tried three times already.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, the first two times I kind of missed my opportunities for being too naive,” he starts before pondering.

The Spaniard holds up two fingers. “What happened the third?”

“What didn’t happen the third?”

Proud was an understatement. He had worked hard and people were truly beginning to see his full potential. It's well deserved.

Running up to him, you embrace him in a tight hug. “Congrats!” A smile presses against his firm chest. Pulling away, he grins, eyes crinkling.

“Thank you. I almost can’t even believe it myself,” he admits, walking slowly down the busy paddock. Though he was wearing his Alfa Romeo suit, you both knew it wouldn’t be long before that changed.

“Driving for Scuderia Ferrari in your early twenties is a huge deal, quit acting humble.” Walking up to his car, you both enjoy each others company on the way to the hotel. Once you walk into his room, you both plop onto the bed, exhausted. The day had been long, filled with interviews and meetings and wonderful fans, and he could never say he didn’t love his job, but it was tough keeping up.

That night, you both go to the club with a few drivers from the grid to celebrate Charles’ new contract. Swaying your hips, you stand on top of a table.

“Get down before you break your neck,” Charles yells over the music blaring through the club.

“No fun,” you sourly say as you poke your tongue out at him. Taking a sip from your drink, which Charles has been taking care of for you, glossy eyes roam the club. Lando leans against the wall nearby where he is attempting to grab a girl's number. A moment passes by before his watercolor eyes double in size. He excuses himself, making his way over. “What happened?”

“She turned out to be forty-five.” The Brit groans and hides his face in embarrassment. Throwing your head back laughing, you clutch onto Charles' arm.

“Stick to girls you know you actually have a chance with,” the Monegasque voices, taking a sip of his drink, smirk dancing through. Lando rolls his eyes.

“Same to you."

The Monegasque silently thanks the universe that you’re too busy talking to George now to even notice. But for once in his life he thought; fuck it.

Excusing himself, he grabs your hands, leading you away with no excuse. If this went south, and they all witnessed it, he would never live it down.

“I need to tell you something!”

You scrunch your face like a piece of paper, cupping your hands like a microphone over your mouth. “What?” Nervously, he grabs your hands, and bewildered, you stare back.

“I love you.”

You stand there, but when you don’t seem shocked, butterflies erupt inside his stomach. Well, what now? “Ah, Charles, you know I love you too,” you yell as you make a duh movement. Frantically, all his confidence begins to slip away - you don’t get it.

“No,” he says, “I love love you. I think about you all the time. Sometimes all I can think is how I would give up my entire career just to be with you, even for a second. Do you know how crazy I feel for even considering something like that?” he rambles. “I mean, I’ve worked so hard for this, and trust me I love it, but not as much I love you. You’re my only option in this life. In the next. In every lifetime; it’s so clear that it will and has always been you.”

Chewing on your lip, you glance around the club to see bodies dancing. Though the room is packed and filled with people kissing and grinding on each other and taking body shots, in too many sinful ways, it just feels like it's just you two at that moment.

He gulps. “Will you go out with me?” There. He said it, and surprisingly, he felt good.

“Charles…” you begin as you try to find the right words. “God, um… We’ve been best friends for so long…” You trail off as his eyes look back in despair for you to continue. “You’re my best friend and this…I mean it wouldn’t feel right.”

Dropping your hands, he swore he felt your words punch him where it hurt the most. Like a mother trying to calm down their child at a candy store, you wrap your delicate hand over his wrist. “I just wouldn’t want anything to change between us,” you try to explain as he nods his head with a tight lipped smile, not even his dimples popped out.

“No worries, I get it. I wouldn’t want things to change between us either.”

With two hands over his head Carlos screeches out: “It happened that night? No wonder you were both awkward the rest of the party.” He remembers now, the way you both kept a careful distance as if you each had some kind of rare disease.

Nodding, Charles shrugs and takes the last bite. “After that we just continued as if nothing had happened and a few months later, I met Charlotte.” His teammate looks at him in pity but still nods. He’s about to comfort his sulky teammate, but holds back as he catches a glimpse of you walking towards them.

Noticeably, a frown maps itself onto your lips. “Where’s my pancake?” You're pissed; darting between the two Ferrari drivers.

Charles finished it!

Carlos!

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “You owe me a plate.”

After his two prior failed attempts as a teenager, Charles never really went on to make any more moves. He didn’t want to tarnish your friendship for some silly confession that is probably only one-sided. Also, he was starting to get busier in his Formula 2 career.

With tears springing out of your eyes you whine. “I’m going to miss you.” You blow your snotty nose with a nearby Kleenex.

Slowly, he pats your hand, friendly. “I’ll be coming back home any chance I get, y’know that. Can’t stay away too long from you,” he teases. Innocently, of course. You giggle, brushing your rats nest far away from blotchy face. “You look like a bunny when you cry.”

Shriek, you run over to the mirror. Your lips and eyes are swollen, lashes wet, your nose is painted red, cheeks maroon: you looked bloody crazy. I look awful!

He lets out a chuckle. “That’s crazy talk. You’re one of the most beautiful girls in this world, if not the most.”

The compliment is thrown at you to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart beating against your chest in a way you’ve never felt before.

The day Charles left, you missed him a scary amount. The two were always finding things to do, typical, Don’t do it and I’m going to do it duo. You found yourself countless times reaching for your phone, so much so, that you began to consider entering yourself into a mental institution. To get your mind off things, you decided to go on a run.

Monaco was a beautiful place to live in and you had always appreciated that, but as you lightly jogged you noticed that it didn’t carry the same color it did as before. Somehow, it had become a bit dull, something that you would never say out loud, because how is that possible?

Your phone buzzes against your hand as you pick up without seeing who it is. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

And just like that, just by hearing his voice, everything became vibrant again. In a single moment like this you knew. You were in love.

Knocking on the bathroom door, Charles presses his ear against the cold wood. “Can you please hurry?” A fist bangs back as a warning; he flinches.

“Give me a second!” Frustration is evident in your voice as he hears a commotion that is beginning to cause concern.

“I wouldn’t pressure her if I were you,” Pierre shares from the other side of the room. Kika, who is sitting right next to him, displays a pleased smile as she nods in agreement.

“I’m about to piss myself!” The brunette shrieks, letting out a small dance. The Frechman lets out a loud snort.

“Wow. Use those dance moves at the Gala!” He sends a death glare and he flips him off. Just then, the door swings open and you walk out wearing a gold dress, hands reaching behind your back. He stops breathing for a second.

“Can someone zip me up?” Hurriedly, his long legs rush over. “Not you. You go pee.”

Kika and you giggle as you sip on champagne, both of you try to take it easy as it is a fancy event but you were buzzing. “Can you believe we’re casually drinking $7,000 champagne?”

Kika squeals, swallowing the rest of the gold liquid, signaling for the bartender. “I know! It's almost embarrassing because how am I supposed to know when to stop?"

Behind you both, Pierre says, “How about now?” The two of you gasp, attempting to hide the glass behind your back when you turn face them.

“What are you talking about? It's only been two,” Kika squeaks, pointing at her squeaky clean glass. Charles eyes you suspiciously; you gulp. Marching over, he levels down to your height before gazing a little too hard. You want to look away, but you know that would only make him grow more skeptical.

“Are we interrupting something?” Pierre whispers to his girlfriend who shushes him.

His green eyes start to get you so dizzy, you want to tap out. “How many did you drink?” he demands. Shutting your right eye, you look up at the ceiling before counting on your fingers. 1, 2, 3….8, 9….

“Ten!” You visibly wince at his booming tone. “What the fuck are you doing here drinking ten goddamn glasses of champagne?” Your facade seems to slip as you cover his mouth with your hand.

“Charles, try it before you go all crazy on me,” you mumble your words and drunkenly throw a hand over his broad shoulder. “You know what,” you propose, slightly slurring your words. “I’ll even take one with you!” Clumsily raising your hand, he quickly yanks it back down, fumbling against you.

“No. I think you’ve had enough.”

At the same moment, Fred makes his way over to your small group, flashing a warm smile. Straightaway, you try to regain your lack of composure. The older man winks, then shakes your hand.

“Charles, so nice of you to bring your girlfriend.”

“Oh- she’s not…She’s not my girlfriend,” Charles stutters. “She’s my best friend from back home, remember?”

The older man nods. “Right! Age is getting the best out of me.” He theatrically taps his head for emphasis. You grin, too afraid to speak. "Anyways, how are you honey?” You smile and nod, digging your nail into the palm of your hand. He quirked an eyebrow. “Easy flight over here?” he tries. You repeat the same actions and throw in two thumbs up.

Too many drinks? Charles nods, protective arm wrapped around your waist, trying to balance you.

“I was just trying to get to sixteen!”

“Sixteen?”

From a certain perspective, you regretted ever feigning indifference when it came to your feelings for Charles. Part of you wishes you had admitted it yourself. Yes, I swear I love you more than a friend, too. You realized this all too late.

“...and her name is Charlotte,” he tells you, eyes glowing. You hated it. You hated knowing that it could’ve been you he was gushing about and there was truly no one to blame but yourself, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Being friends with Charles was all you’ve ever known. Never would you risk losing something as important as that.

“Wow. She sounds great.” A sincere smile plays out, and yes, she did sound amazing. She was everything you ever swore to be.

A pleased smile makes its way through as he grabs his phone and starts texting. So, that’s what life became. He would try to discreetly shoot sneaky messages or make phone calls any time you two would hang out together, but the feeling kept growing rapidly, that you just felt you were interfering; so slowly, you grew apart.

“His name is Noah,” you beam a few months later, drying a stack of dishes. Over the phone, he raises a brow, comedically.

“I’m happy for you,” he complies, nevertheless. Behind, you could distinctively hear her calling his name and you almost let out a snicker from how fast he begins to shut off his stimulator. “Got to go, mate. Having dinner out tonight.” Then, the line run cold.

Ha. Mate.

He should’ve known to never listen to Pierre.

“All I’m saying, mate, is that you only live once and you should just stop acting whipped and do something about it.” Pierre takes a swing of beer before he gaws at the bottle. “Fuck,” he lets out. “Germans just know how to do it.”

Everyone around shakes their head in warning. “No,” Max begins. “Whatever you’re thinking, just no. Matter of fact; don’t even think at all.”

“That should be pretty easy,” Lando mutters from the nearby couch where he was supposedly taking a nap. The Frenchman kindly flips him off.

Charles lets out a breath, before claiming his seat next to Alex. “Seriously guys, think.” The group gathered around more than two hours, compiling possible ideas for him to follow in order to confess his undying love for you - again.

“To be honest, I would’ve given up,” Yuki admits. Concerned, the Monegasque grows quiet. Should I?

Pierre fiercely makes a fiasco to gain his attention once more. “Don’t listen to him!” Once all eyes circle back to him, he paces the room with his no-good thinking face.

“Well, if it helps, maybe you could-”

“Got it!” Pierres shrieks, rapidly clearing the coffee table. Glass shatters.

“Dude,” Lewis groans as he stares at the mess now made in his suite.

“Sorry.” Everyone rolls their eyes at his unnecessary childlike behavior, but not Charles. “Just a thought, what if we play a little round of Cupid?” Groans erupt, but the green eyed boy seems rather intrigued.

“What were you thinking?” Fingers play with his rings.

“First of all; how bad do you want it?”

“Pierre, she’s not a fucking object.”

“Of course not! Let me rephrase…” He runs a large hand over his mouth. “What are you willing to do in order to get the girl of your dreams?” The whole room cringes.

“I would do just about anything.”

The first phase began with Lando.

“Alright, so all you have to do is get to know her,” Pierre schemes, scribbling down on a piece of napkin.

The Brit blushes, then runs a hand through his curls. “Isn’t that Charles’ job?” he croaks.

“All I’m asking for you to do is to get some insight on stuff she likes. Y’know…hobbies and shit like that. You don't have to kiss her, dimwit."

“Got it.”

The following day, he finds you walking through the paddock, exchanging a string of hello's with almost everyone, it seems. Seeing that it was barely Wednesday, it wasn’t busy at all. He jogs up to you. “Hey.”

Throwing a hand over your heart, you jump up in surprise. The Brit grins, apologizes, then you a waffle. Beaming happily, you thank him, greedily stuffing your cheeks full.

“Boy, I sure hope I have some time to golf before the race…”

“I'm sure you will.” More bites.

“Sweet! So you love to golf?” he questions, hands fixing his backwards hat. You shake your head.

“God, no. I’m more of a tennis girl.” As soon as you spot Ferrari's motorhome, you share a quick hug and make your way.

She fucks with tennis, he texts Pierre. Boom. Done.

Next, went Alex.

“You have to make him look like the shit,” the Frenchman tries to explain as Alex sits there with a bored expression.

“Charles, just be upfront with her. It’ll work trust me,” he shares as the Ferrari boy nods hesitantly. Yeah, maybe-

“Can anyone just follow instructions?”

Lily got involved the moment her boyfriend mentioned the shitty plan.

“Oh, this is so cute!” she screeches, dragging him closer by Williams shirt. “I want in.”

Walking hand in hand, they make their way to you as you sit with Lando, who for some reason, keeps questioning you on every little thing.

“...what about tacos?”

Desperate, you wave over at the couple. “Falls right in the palm of our hand,” Lily whispers excitedly, already yanks her boyfriend towards your direction. The Brit immediately excuses himself once they take a seat.

“Thank God,” you exhale, expert hand flying up to tie your hair. Pushing a few loose strands behind your ears you say, “I love him, I do, but the boy has been driving me crazy.”

“Preach that sister,” Alex shoots as he throws an arm over Lily. Under the table, she quickly pinches him. He yelps and scoots away. “Speaking of someone who drives me absolutely crazy, yeah, uh, Charles!” Raising an eyebrow, you stare back confused.

Lily coughs awkwardly, then pats her lap. “Yeah, I mean I was just telling Alex just how sweet Charles seems.” She turns her attention to him as he quickly nods. Super sweet lad, he exclaims. “It’s just…he’s so young and handsome, might I add, so I’m just a tad bit surprised no one has snatched him up already.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, wary eyes blink back at them. “Trouble in paradise?” Eyes wide, they both shriek a quick: No! “Good." You smile, standing up and gathering your stuff. “Take care guys!” you yell out.

“Bloody handsome, I tell you!” Alex makes one last attempt as you throw your head back in laughter. His girlfriend stomps her foot in frustration.

“We fucking suck at this.”

I’m sure she thinks Lily is interested in Leclerc.

Alex clicks send.

“You guys are probably wondering who’s next?”

“We’re not-”

“Well, don’t you feel lucky; it's you, Max!”

The two time World Champion throws his head against the couch as he waits for instructions. “See, now you’re not going to like it…” The Dutch lifts his head up, blue eyes swirling with confusion. “You have to let Charles win.” He scoffs.

“No. No way in hell.”

“Mate!” Pierre shrieks as he eagerly displays his scribbles to the group. Messily drawn, is Max handing over a crappy looking trophy to the Monegasque. At least that’s what it looked like. “I’m only asking for this one thing from you.” Max continues shaking his head.

“You’re right, you’re asking…Beg.”

The entire room goes silent, except for Lando who has fully awoken from his forty minute nap. “Holy shit, this just got real.” Carlos, who is curled up next to him for some odd reason, quickly hushes him.

Pierre claps his hands loudly, chuckles, and looks over to where Charles bites down on his nails. He’s about to protest in defense for his long time friend before he raises his hand. “Please. Would you please do this as a favor for this lovesick motherfucker?” He points over at the Monegasque.

Max closes his eyes, clicking his tongue. “No. Beg on your knees.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Lando squeals with a muffled mouth, instinctively pulling out his phone, ready to record. The Spaniard doesn’t even try to stop him, instead he sits at the edge of his seat.

With whatever dignity he has left, Pierre gets on his knees with his hands pressed together as if he’s ready to pray. “Queue,” he mutters under his breath. The Dutchman raises a hand against his ear and hums. “Max…would you be considerate enough to hand over my dear, dear friend Charles, a win in order for him to stop moping over a girl and actually get her attention for once?”

The blue eyed Dutch stands up firmly in front of him as Lando and Carlos continue to giggle like little girls, waiting for whatever might happen next. Walking to serve himself a glass of water, he finally speaks out. “Fine. Pole. Not my win. Take it or leave it.”

Pierre and Charles share a high five as Lando and Carlos let out a sigh.

“I always knew they were a little fruity. Look, he even had to take a sip of water after their interaction."

“Congrats!” you yell out in pure happiness when you congratulate your best friend for pole. He jokingly polishes his nails.

“It was nothing, really.”

He’s describing his strategy to you as you happily listen, when Max walks up to you both. “Congrats, mate.” They both share a quick side hug. Wait, what is it that Pierre said to do? Something like-

“He drove like a monster. I couldn’t even taste his dust. I wouldn’t mess with someone like him, in fact, I would marry someone like him.” It's robotic, it's fucking weird, but yeah. He completely nailed it.

“Are you okay?” Bringing your palm up against his forehead, you teasingly curl a neat brow. He swats your hand.

“Of course! So good. I’ll leave you two alone!” Hurriedly, he makes his way back to his motorhome.

Your plan is shit.

Send.

“And we save the best for last.” Pierre walks along the grid, tapping each of them on the head as he goes, almost like a game of Duck Duck Goose. A loud smack follows.

“Cabrón,” Carlos groans as he rubs his head. The Frenchman quickly scatters across the room.

“Harder than I intended,” he mutters. “Anyhow!” His speech is cut short when his phone begins to ring. A panicked look draws itself in place as he turns his screen. Everyone gasps.

“She’s going to fucking know. She’s gonna know and she’s gonna run off and tell her...” Charles begins to curse, nervous ticks.

“...and get a grip. Hellooo? Fine, I didn’t want to do this.” The Monegasque doesn’t have time to react when the right side of his face starts to ring. He groans in pain.

“You punched me!”

“Yeah, he just feels like doing stuff like that today,” Carlos spits out, annoyed, holding a bag of ice against his head. He hands it over.

“You both have to learn to listen!” he tries to defend when Charles jumps over the couch towards him.

“You can’t! I’m going to answer!” He swipes along the bright screen, putting the phone on speaker. “Kika!”

“Pierre, where are you?” the Portuguese complains as he shoots a distressed look towards his friend. Shit. They had-

“Dinner, remember?”

The Frenchman rapidly puts the phone on mute, rushing his way over to Charles. “What the fuck do I say?” he screeches, staring at the phone like a ticking time bomb.

“Tell her we’re on our way. Keep it simple.”

He nods. Unmuting, he says, “We’re trying to decide what to wear, give us ten minutes, we’ll meet you at the lobby.”

“You’re getting ready together? Like some sort of fashion show?” Your sweet giggle makes an appearance and everyone is beginning to aww before Pierre throws his hand up. They all keep quiet.

“Exactly. Now give me and Charles some space. Ten minutes, max. Love you, bye!” Launching his phone over at the couch, he smirks. “Where was I?”

Carlos finds you talking to a few of the engineers.

“Waffles?” Round orbs glimmer at the sigh of a fresh plate with whipped cream on top.

“Gimme."

“Charles actually got them for you. I’m just the delivery boy.” You hum, noting to thank your best friend after the race. “Since we’re talking about Charles, boy, he drove so well yesterday, don't you agree?” You nod with a cheesy smile. You’re about to speak before he shoves another piece of bread into your mouth. “Oh! Did he mention during testing he was able to do some donuts? Get this; with one hand.”

“I think Daniel has done that too." He pushes in another piece.

“Yeah? Well, he’s extremely good at chess!”

“He’s shit. I always win,” you confirm as you finish swallowing. Another forced bite.

“But have you ever beat him at tennis? Because he’s really good at that too and handsome!” Eyeing him suspiciously ,you throw the rest of the nasty waffle into the nearby bin.

“I always win,” you muffle once more, annoyed. He groans andpulls out his back-up waffle behind his back.

He feeds you one last time as you attempt to push his strong hands away. “Yeah? Well, did you know that he's still in love with you?” The garage grows quiet and they all turn to look at you. You’re covered in whipped cream as he wears a proud smile over what he’s done. Soon, it dawns on him as he rushes to his room.

I ruined it.

Send.

The grid goes out for a group dinner, though Lando, Lily, Alex, Max, and Carlos all avoid you. You were all celebrating yet another Verstappen win.

“Good race, Max,” you say as he shares a tight smile. “You too, Charles. Third place with pole is good considering the box you drive.” Max cracks a devilish smile towards the Monegasque.

“It’s the best I could have done, but I’m not too upset about it. It was a fun race overall.”

“Anyone interested in desert?” the waitress asks as she scribbles down a few orders. “Our waffles are actually the most recommended!” she persuades as she makes eye contact with you. You wave your hand in dismissal.

“After this trip, I don’t think I’ll never be able to eat waffles again.” The Spaniard sheepishly hides behind his menu.

You’re too busy gossiping with Daniel about his return to F1, that you don’t even notice when Charles and Pierre slip away. “What do you have so far?” the green eyed boy presses, occasionally looking behind, making sure they were definitely alone.

The Frenchman lets out a sad sigh, laying a large hand on his friend's shoulder, displaying his sympathy. “Very well…” Charles’ eyes begin to buzz with excitement. “Not anything worthy or good.” He immediately deflates.

“What happened?”

“So, apparently she likes some guy named Dennis. Fucking him too, from what I was told. Um, she also wasn’t too impressed with this race weekend as much as I thought she would be…” The Monegasque stops breathing for a second. Did he really ruin his shot once again? Pierre continues with a more light hearted tone. “I was told Carlos didn’t do his part, but look on the bright side! You might have a shot with Lily! Heard she thinks you’re cute.”

Charles is in the middle of rubbing his temples, when he suddenly stops. “Pierre; Lily and Alex are dating.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Max, Lando, Alex and Carlos all make their way to the back of the restaurant as soon as they receive the urgent text from Pierre. Meet in da back lol. “What is it now?” Max groans as he adjusts his rolled up sleeves.

“You see, we were just thinking, how could Lily be interested in Charles when she’s in a stable, happy relationship?” So she says, Pierre finishes.

Alex rolls his eyes, seemingly annoyed. “She doesn’t like him like that! She was just trying to make you look good but it came out wrong.”

“Maybe…but the whole Max part went to shit because like always, he just had to win!” The Dutch shrugs.

“Mate, you knew my terms and conditions. Plus, she was so happy for Charles regardless, I don’t even think she cares that he didn’t win.” Pierre hums.

“What about Carlos, huh? You said you ruined your shot! You didn’t even do your part, so let’s all just back off, and not blame me for killing Charles' love life.”

“Ay, ay, ay,” Carlos groans into his hands. “I did my part just the way you said but I did also kind of ruin it,” he shyly adds. “I crossed the line, sorry, but I might’ve ratted you out when I told her you still lo-”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways.” Charles released a shaky breath. “She’s already seeing someone else.” Besides being quite done with Pierre’s poor plan, they still spilled out apologies for their friend.

“Ugly name, too. Have you ever met a good looking Dennis? Cause I haven’t.” Pierre’s voice lathers with a typical matter of fact, leaning against the wall. Lando fiercely turns his attention.

“Dennis?”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me. You said, ‘She fucks with Dennis.’”

“I said tennis. She fucks with tennis. As in, she likes the sport!” The Brit wheezes hysterically as they all begin to share a panicked look. The Frenchman slowly starts backing away from the group.

“Holy shit, I think Kika is calling me.” Dashing away, he trips over his own feet, shoes squeaking against the glossy floor. Charles is left there more confused than what he was at the beginning of all of this.

“What do I do now?” he groans, running two hands over his face.

“Maybe just do what we’ve been telling you to do all along…” Alex suggests as the rest follow in agreement. The Monegasque wears a helpless smile.

“Thanks, but I’ve already tried that before and it’s never really gone my way.”

“Mate, if you really love her, then you have to tell her again. Things could end up differently this time,” Max adds. “All you need to do is say how you feel, and please; never listen to Pierre ever again.”

That night, before you both walk to your own hotel room, the brunette holds onto your hand. “Why don’t we go on a walk?”

“Charles, it's too late, I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. How about tomorrow?” you mumble, clumsily balancing on your feet that have become too sore from all the walking. Desperately, he shakes his head.

“No. It has to be now.”

Nervously, you follow him and it’s like you’re twenty all over again - the first time he told you how he felt. Part of you wants to run away and not deal with any of this, but the more mature side wants to stay. When you were younger, you weren’t ready to face your feelings and that was something you regretted everyday. There was no way you were going to repeat that again.

Taking a seat on a bench, you both watch the traffic lights. This place might not be home, but being with Charles seems to be the closest thing to it and that itself eases you.

“Okay…” he awkwardly starts, shifting his sight to face you. Deep down; he also wanted to call it a night. Part of him believes that if he got rejected again, then that would be the end of it all, and things would never be the same, but he had to do this. “Do you remember how we first met?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Duh. You made me cry when you dropped my flowers.” The Monegasque cringes at the image.

“I dropped your flowers,” he confirms. “But I swear to you right now that I won’t ever do that again.” Heartbeat quickens, chest tightens. “I want to be a part of everything that has to do with you; I need it. I need all the sweetness that you’ve brought into my life since we were eight, I need a reason to get up at five in the morning to make waffles or pancakes. I need to hear your laugh because of something stupid I might’ve foolishly done, and I… What I’m trying to say is…you know I need you, but all I’ve ever wanted was for you to need me back.”

Like a deer in headlights, you gaze back, analyzing the way he’s nervously waiting for your reaction. And like the first time around, your eyes soften. “Charles…” He knows it too, because again, this takes him back to that one night at the club. But he doesn’t want to go back there.

“I’ve loved you for the longest time and my only regret has been not fighting for you. Back when we were twenty, I was young, I was naive, and I let myself be tricked into thinking that not having you was ever going to be okay, but it’s not. I’m a complete fool for you and the thing is that I don’t mind it! Sometimes, I feel like if I keep getting pushed away it won’t matter because I’ll still be here trying time and time again. And normally I wouldn’t do stuff like this for anyone but you’re just someone who always stays with me, so how am I supposed to easily forget about you?”

As his words reach an end, you try to speak, but nothing comes up. “I get it,” Charles adds in a bittersweet tone.

“You’ve made me cry countless times.” It’s a declaration - an odd one, too - and Charles is puzzled. Though the little smile drawn onto your rosy lips is a confirmation.

“I know, but I promise that won’t ever happen again. I’m sorry I ever made you cry.”

“Well, if you kiss me…I might just forgive you.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1

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phfenomena · 4 months

Text

❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

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wonysugar · 5 months

Text

birthday party | annyeongz

synopsis : your favorite couple, yujin and wonyoung, come over and give you a personal birthday party.

this is for the beautiful woman that is ena, one of my bestest friends, happy birthday to @pupyuj<33 here’s your gift mwah eat well i hope you had a wonderful day today i love youuu

pairing : gp!yujin x wonyoung x birthdaygirl!reader

genre : smut!!

tags : it’s your birthday!! birthday sex, drunk sex, daddy kink, mommy kink, threesomes, blowjob, g!p yujin, clit play, dirty talk, yknow, that funky stuff, annyeongz are dating! they call you a whore, bitch in heat, all of that stuff yippeee

a/n : this is not proofread sorry if there are any spelling mistakes~~

warnings : none! :]

word count : 1.2k

dingg!

you excitedly jump upon hearing your doorbell and rush over to your front door to open it, immediately greeted by your two best friends, wonyoung and yujin, grinning widely.

“happy birthday!” they yelled in unison as wonyoung went and hugged you, the both of them completely unaware of the fact that they’re still very much in the hallways of your apartment complex. you panicked, gently let go of wonyoung then dragged the couple into your home, quickly.

“not so loud???” you giggled, checking to see if any of your neighbors heard before closing the door instantly as your friends laughed with you, “but thank you so much guys, i’m so glad you could make it.” you smiled softly.

“of course y/n! how could we miss your birthday, c’mon now.” said yujin, settling the cake they bought you down on your living room table. wonyoung, as for her, she gently put down the huge bottle of alcohol on that same table. you stared at her in joking disbelief. in response, she guiltily smiled back at you.

“what? it’s your birthday, you havee to get wasted.” she tried justifying, but you saw past her tricks.

“oh be serious, you totally brought that just so you could get drunk out of your mind.” you responded, earning a joking eye roll from her, and a laugh from her girlfriend.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like getting drunk that night, though.

“ughh stop sulkinggg i already said that i was sorry. i’m sorry i forgot it y/nnn, i’ll bring you your gift tomorrow i promiseee. come on, how can i make it up to you??” affirmed a tipsy yujin as you narrowed your eyes at her, also very intoxicated. wonyoung, on her side of the table, was sat down just like all of you and was quiet as a mouse as she watched it all happen, clearly amused by the scene.

don’t be fooled, though, she was drunk too.

“hmmmm… only way i’d forgive you is… if you and your girl fucked me really well, to be honesttt.” is what unintentionally slipped out of your mouth. they were not lying when they said that the truth comes out when you’re not sober. yujin’s expression changed, her smile dropping by the millisecond.

shit.

shit?? yeah, you were drunk enough to let that happen, but you were also sober enough to grasp that saying that was not something you could just say.

“ahahah– sorry that was.. that was a bad joke-”

yujin laughed as she finally stood up from the ground, unzipping her jeans’ bracket– what the fuck. what the fuck was going on? was she actually gonna fuck you?? why the fuck was she hard??? already???? huh?????

whatever it was, wonyoung liked it, cause when you looked at her with a confused expression, she seemed even more amused now.

“guess we gotta give the birthday girl what she wants, right?”

no seriously what.

“wh– yujin, what are you doing–”

she approached you, then grabbed your jaw, her drunken gaze piercing through your, also very drunken, gaze, “it’s daddy to you now, got it?”

okay. maybe you could get behind this. whatever was going on, you liked it more than you’d like to admit.

you nodded reluctantly. as soon as you did, she smirked and quickly took off her belt, her pants and pulled down her boxers right after, her hard cock springing out. dear god, was it girthy. is that what wonyoung would it be whorish to say that you drooled a tad bit at the sight? well, even if it was, it was the truth.

“take off your skirt and go sit on mommy’s lap.” she coldly ordered, throwing a glance watching you look up at her as she lightly stroked the whole length of her dick.

with how drunk you were, you tried connecting the dots. since she was daddy, you could only assume that the ‘mommy’ in question was her girlfriend; wonyoung. you looked back at the latter, she was smiling at you with hooded eyes, patting her lap, indicating for you to take a seat. you enthusiastically took off your skirt and crawled over to her, already getting used to the role of the whore they wanted you to be for them.

once you got to wonyoung, her lips immediately met yours, the kiss hungry and passionate. she grabbed you and sat you down on her lap as she kept kissing you from behind, immediately feeling your slick coat on her thigh.

“so needy already, hm baby?” she asked you, moments before tossing aside your hair and planting wet kisses down your neck, earning eager nods and soft whimpers from you. “don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, right my love?” she added, looking at yujin with lustful eyes. yujin only got closer to you and watched as you melted under her girlfriend’s touch. she was so turned on from the scene, staring back into wonyoung’s eyes like she wanted to eat her whole, and it showed. she eventually looked down at you, slapping her rock hard dick onto your face.

“come on, open your mouth, darling, she’s got a birthday gift for you, you’re not gonna reject it, right?.” whispered softly wonyoung into your ear moments before nibbling on it, placing her hand and gently rubbing on your clothed cunt as encouragement.

immediately, you obeyed and took yujin all at once, looking up at her. she didn’t waste any time, either. she forcefully shoved her cock into you, her tip hitting the back of your throat as she grunted, earning multiple, and i mean multiple, gags from you. as for, wonyoung was still teasing your clit through your panties.

“oh you just love daddy’s cock, don’t you, princess?” she asked you, biting her bottom lip as she tried suppressing her low moans, watching you nod as you moaned shamelessly, mouth full, “look at you, sucking me off like a– mmh— fucking whore. tell me you like daddy’s dick, come onnn.. i wanna hear you say it.” she added.

“honey, her mouth is full of you, she can’t even respond to you.” responded your best friend for you, her hand already inside your panties, twirling and playing with your throbbing clit while her other hand was on your waist, helping you ride her thigh.

“do you think the slut’s enjoying— fuckk– having her mouth used, baby?” she asked her girlfriend whilst caressing her soft hair.

“hmm.. she is really drenched, and she is grinding on my thigh like a bitch in heat, sooo… i think she does enjoy it. maybe she even wants you to fuck her throat rougher, don’t you think?”

you felt used, you felt good, you felt... theirs. it was like, at the end of the day, they were just a couple playing with you like a toy on the day of your birthday until you were driven to the edge, and you thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. yujin thrusted into your mouth, wonyoung rubbed your clit as you rode her thigh, and that was going on for a long, until yujin climaxed because, as embarrassing as it may be, feeling her warm load in your droop down your gullet turned you on so much that you just came at that moment.

and just when you thought it was over, wonyoung giggled in your ear,

“you don’t think it’s over already, right? this may be your birthday, but you don’t get to decide. mommy still hasn’t gotten to feel good.” she looked over to a smirking yujin, whose dick was already somewhat hard at the thought again.

oh lord. you were far from being done.

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #ive smut #annyeongz smut #annyeongz #wonyoung x yujin #yujin x wonyoung #ahn yujin x y/n #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin #jang wonyoung x female reader #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x y/n #wonyoung ive smut #wonyoung smut #yujin ive smut #yujin smut #gxg

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moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

We have whimsical reader in marauders

We need one with tasm peter

Oorrrr

Can you imagine (or make) a witch/wizard reader with tasm peter!!???

Thanks for requesting love!

tasm!Peter Parker x whimsical!reader ♡ 679 words

Peter comes in through the window, more out of habit than anything else now that he’s not hiding anything from you, but you don’t startle. You’re sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor in front of the couch, flipping through what looks like his old physics textbook.

“Baby,” he says, “why was there an apple on the fire escape again?”

“It was still there?” You look up, disappointed to find a whole apple in your boyfriend’s hand. “I thought Ricardo would’ve gotten to it by now. I hope he’s okay.”

Peter scoffs, going into the kitchen to wash the apple and put it away. He scrubs it extra hard just in case the raccoon you’re set on befriending did get his grubby paws on it.

“Ricardo can eat without your help,” he says. “He’s hardy, he’s from Brooklyn.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but apples are his favorite.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, but you’re not looking, your attention on something in the book. “How do you know that?”

“He’ll let me pet him while he’s eating apples.”

He sighs, leaning his forearms on the counter. He’s going to have to find a way to move that raccoon to another neighborhood the next time he goes out. Before it gives you rabies.

“What’re you doing over there?” he asks you.

“Pressing flowers.”

“Yeah?” Peter rounds the counter, moving behind you to sit on the couch. His knees bracket your shoulders. The A/C is blasting to combat the summer heat, and goosebumps prickle down your arms. “What for?”

“I was thinking May could bring them to work,” you say, flattening a dandelion between two pieces of wax paper. The movements are deft and routined, and Peter wonders how many flowers are already enclosed between the pages. There’s a small pile of them sitting next to you, miraculously intact despite the fragile puffs. “She was telling me about some of the kids she works with last week. I thought they might like to have them.” You shrug. “For bookmarks or whatever.”

Peter’s insides go melty soft. “I’m sure they would.” He leans forward, setting his hand on your shoulder and his lips to your head. You only keep working. Sometimes Peter feels like a weird rock or a feather that you’d picked up somewhere, put in your pocket without a second thought. But you do love your rocks and feathers, so it’s not an awful fate. “Where’d you get these, sweetheart?”

“I found them,” you say simply. “Parks, sidewalks, you know. They grow anywhere. Do you think I should save a few in case they want to make wishes instead of keeping them?”

It’s said so seriously Peter can’t help but grin, turning so his cheek smushes into the crown of your head. “That seems like a good idea. Mind if I use one?”

“Of course.” You sound surprised. “Use as many as you want, Peter. I can always get more.”

“Just one is good.”

He slides off of the couch, sitting beside you and picking up a dandelion. He waits until you’re looking over at him before blowing.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the seeds rush towards you. Peter’s close enough that they get stuck in your eyelashes and eyebrows, a couple in your hair. His breath weakens as he starts laughing, the last few seeds coming off the flower by way of little puffs of air.

“You don’t have to blow it at someone,” you say, lips stretching into a pretty smile. You blink cautiously, opening your eyes once no dandelion fluff falls in.

He lowers the stem. “I just wanted to make sure my wish went in the right direction.”

Your head tilts. “What’d you wish for?”

Peter combs a bit of white fluff out of your hair, grinning. “C’mon, baby,” he tsks, shifting his fingers to your jaw. You’re pliant to the touch, angling your head at the slightest cue from him. You keep your eyes open, curious, but your lips are soft against his. “You know that’s not how it works. I’ve still gotta make sure it comes true.”

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 9 months

Text

Hey Jealousy

Pairing: EddieXReader

Request: May i request Construction Worker Eddie x Hairstylist Reader? Established relationship Jealous Eddie he comes into his fiancé’s hair salon during his lunch flowers & coffee in hand🥹🤍 the customer in her chair is flirting with her , she is paying him no mind just keeps on cutting his hair laughing but not flirting, once they get home for the day a little bit of ANGST , but reader knows how to make sure Eddie knows she only wants him que in the SMUT🥰😩

@mmunson86

18+ Only

Eddie pulled open the door to the hair salon, walking in with a big grin. He'd come to surprise you at work on his lunch. He knew how much you loved to see him in his gear, his hard hat had been used in the bedroom on more than one occassion. He had stopped at the florist and grabbed a bouquet of daisies, your favorite, and then popped into the coffee shop next door for your afternoon pick me up latte that he knew you always required.

He saw you working on a customer, some guy in your chair. He looked maybe a couple years older than you, blonde and buff in a fitted tee and cargo pants. Eddie watched as he said something and you laughed, one of his favorite sounds in the world, but the sound of it coming from you because of that guy caused something ugly to twist up inside of him.

"Man, I am serious. If you're down here cutting my hair, then who's running heaven?"

You smiled, shaking your head, and just continued to cut, not responding. Eddie's grip on your coffee cup tightened, causing hot liquid to splash over. He jumped, cursing, when his burned the skin of his hand.

You glanced up, catching sight of him in the mirror, and beamed, spinning around. Your eyes took in the floors and then the smushed coffee cup and you tilted your head, looking concerned and a bit confused.

"Hey baby...you okay?" you asked sweetly.

"Fine. I was on my lunch and thought I would surprise you." He held up his gifts, his tone sharp and annoyed.

"That's so sweet," you replied uncertainly, clearly put off by the obvious difference between his words and his body language. "You know I love when I get to see you in the middle of the day."

"Yeah, looks like it. I'll just set these here." He hurriedly placed them on your counter, shooting a glare to the guy sitting in your chair for good measure, satisfied when he recoiled slightly. Good. Let him think twice before he hit on Eddie's girl again. "I'll see you at home."

"Eddie, wait...what..."

But he turned and went out the door, the sound of the bell tinkling overhead.

___________________________________________________________

You walked in the door after work, annoyed and ready for a fight. Eddie had ruined the rest of your day with his behavior. He was clearly pissed and you had no idea what the hell you had done to make him so.

He laid on the couch, beer in his hand, watching some rock documentary on MTV. You tossed your purse on the coffee table and sat down in the chair in the corner to remove your shoes, feet killing you after an eight hour shift of standing. Eddie didn't even acknowledge your presence, no usual kiss and hello, no sweeping you up in his arms and telling you how much he missed you and that upset you more than anything.

"Okay, what exactly did I do to get you all pissed off at me?" you demanded. "Because I have been wracking my brain but I can't come up with one damn thing I could have done in the whole two minutes you were in the shop."

Eddie did an overly dramatic, unkind imitation of you laughing, tossing his head back and holding his chest, "Oh, you think I'm an angel fallen from heaven? Oh, that's so sweet. Oh, I'm just going to melt right now."

Your eyes narrowed, "Are you fucking serious? I didn't say any of those damn things. I didn't even respond to him, Eddie."

"You may as well have with your laughing and smiling."

"Get bent! I have a job, a job that depends on tips and customers returning because they're happy with my work. What did you want me to do?"

"Throw him out of your chair! You have a boyfriend or did you forget that?"

"I didn't forget anything but I am not throwing a customer out of my chair because they were a bit flirty. After you left, he was silent. I finished his cut, he paid, and he left. I never gave him any indication that I was interested. I would never and you should damn well know that. I can't believe you don't trust me, Eddie."

"I never said I didn't trust you," he grumbled. "Look, I know it's stupid. I know you wouldn't do that but I hate when other guys flirt with you. Hell, I hate when they so much as look at you. You're mine. I just don't want you deciding that maybe you'd be better off with one of them."

"Baby..." You dropped to the floor, sliding on your knees over to the couch, sitting in front of him. Your fingers ran through his hair, playing with the ends. "That is never going to happen because you're the only one I want. I am yours, only yours, always. And you're mine."

You rose onto your knees, pressing your lips against his, your tongue slipping along his bottom lip, teasing until he parted his lips, his tongue finding yours, curling around it. HIs hand gripped the back of your head, crushing your mouths against each other as your hand slid under his shirt, fingers playing with the hair just above the button of his jeans and he groaned, low and slow, into the kiss.

"You are the only man I ever want," you whispered against his lips, unbutton and then unzipping his pants. "You are everything I want." You grabbed onto them, Eddie helping by lifting his hips and then using his feet to shove them down his legs and off, pooling on the floor. "Let me show you how much I want you."

You climb onto the couch, settling between his legs, his eyes watching you intently, dark with desire. Gripping his length in your hand, you stroke him softly, watching as his mouth drops open, listening to the soft growl that comes from back in his throat, feeling him against your hand, soft yet rigid.

"Fuck baby," Eddie hisses, hips rising up off the couch, needy for more.

"You should know by now how much I want you, Eddie," you muse, dropping to your stomach, your hand continuing to move over him ay just the tip of your tongue slides along the underside of his cock and it twitches in response. "I guess I just have to keep reminding you."

"Yeah, princess, remind me," he demands, crying out as you lick his full length again.

This time, when you reach the head, you wrap your lips around it, just the head, sucking it in, swirling your tongue over it, tasting the salty precum that collected there. You suck a little harder as your hand continues to slip along the length and Eddie's hand tangles roughly in your hair. He pushes on your head, trying to get you to take all of him but you hold back.

"Shit...oh shit...princess, come on."

You release the head of dick with a loud pop, your hand stilling, a devilish smile on your face as you look up at your boyfriend, desperate and needy for your mouth. It is such a fucking high when you get him like this, willing to beg for you. He releases a sound of frustration.

"Oh, if you don't use your words Eddie, how am I supposed to know what you want?" you tease, flicking the tip with your tongue and his hand in your hair balls into a fist, tugging it from the scalp, sending shivers of pleasure straight to your core.

"Take all of it, sweetheart," he growled. "Come on. Take all of my cock. I know you can."

"Now, that's my good boy," you praised and then you swallowed him whole, humming with delight when he bellowed, back arching, hips raising. You pressed your hands against him, pushing him back down.

"Yes baby, that's it...so good...goddamn..." Eddie gasped, hips rolling against your mouth, fucking it, the tip of him scratching the back of your throat each time. "Love that pretty little mouth...takes me so good...Jesus Christ..."

Replacing your mouth with your hand, you continued pumping his length, tongue slipping along the underside of him to lick at his balls, teasing. When you took one of them between your lips, sucking and rolling it, the sound Eddie made was animalistic, a sound you weren't sure you could describe if you wanted to.

"Don't stop baby, just like that...fuck...sweetheart...fuck me..."

You moved to the other one, lavishing it with attention, keeping a firm grip on him, feeling his balls tighten as his orgasm built up. It wouldn't be long now. Your tongue ran over the sides of his cock, your hand cradling his balls, continuing to stimulate them, as you took him back in your mouth. You worked your mouth over him, once, twice, three times and then his hand was gripping your hair so hard that your scalp was stinging and he was shooting ribbons of release down your throat as he cried your name over and over.

"Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, collapsing back on the couch, that beautiful mane plastered to his sweaty face.

You sat back, swallowing, swiping the side of your mouth with your finger to gather what had spilled out, satisfied with yourself for making him lose all control. It was so empowering to know you could make him come completely undone for you. Eddie propped himself up on his elbows, staring at you and then he was on you, ripping off your clothes and tossing them every which way.

His hands gripped your knees, pressing them apart. One hand grabbed onto the arm of the couch, the other gripping his length, pumping it a couple times to get himself ready once again. He placed the tip at your entrance, slipping it through your wetness, through your folds, running it over your clit teasingly.

"You want this cock, baby?" he whispered, dipping his head, nose brushing over yours.

"Yes..."

"You only want this cock, don't you?"

"Yes, only yours," you breathed, your fingers running over his back, craving the feel of him filling you, stretching you.

"That's right. My cock is the only one that will ever fill this pussy," he demanded as he slid inside of you, pressing until he filled you to the hilt, holding himself still, closing his eyes and just relishing the feel of your warm wetness surrounding him. "And this pussy is mine."

He pulled back until only just the tip was left, leaving you feeling empty but then he slammed back into you with force, your skin slapping together loudly, echoing throughout the room. You gasped, nails raking over his skin as he did it again and again, forceful thrusts that were meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

Eddie's hand ran over your calf, bringing your leg up, his lips pressing over the skin of her leg and ankle before pressing it back by your ear, allowing him to press even deeper within you. You saw stars when his cock hit that delicious little spot that had you screaming his name. His other hand came to your breast, kneading and pinching and twisting, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

"Who do you belong to, baby?" he hissed, hips rolling over yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"You...only you...fuck..."

"Only me, always me, forever," Eddie confirmed, hand slipping from your breast and between your bodies to tease at your clit, pinching, flicking, circling, rubbing as you gasped, panted, chest heaving, eyes rolling.

"Only you...all I want...fuuuuck....you're all I want...."

You were losing all control. You were a pressure cooker that was about to explode, sending remnants everywhere. You couldn't stop it if you wanted to and fuck, you definitely didn't want to. Your back arched, nails digging into his back and raking down, as you screamed long and loud, your orgasm exploding from within you.

"Fuck yes, princess. You're so damn beautiful when you lose control," he grunted, rutting deeply within you, chasing his own release. "Jesus H. Christ...I'm gonna baby, I'm....shiiiiiiit!"

Eddie's body rocked over top of you, muscles quivering under your fingers as he filled you once again. He stilled, head dropping and then collapsed on top of you, pressing gentle kisses to every single inch of your face.

"Fucking shit...that was so damn good..." he groaned.

"Yeah," you gasped, cradling his head against your chest. "So, did I do a good job of reminding you? Are we done acting like a big old baby? Do we know that it doesn't matter if other men flirt with me because you're the only one I want?"

"Yes." He lifted his head, smiling sheepishly at you. "But you know, I might still need reminding sometimes. My memory isn't always the best."

"Oh yeah?" you laughed, hands coming to his cheeks, gazing down lovingly at this man who drove you crazy in more ways than one.

"Yeah, definitely. Lots of reminders would be appreciated," he grinned, pressing his lips to yours.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader

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babyyoda234 · 3 months

Text

Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...

Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.

1st time: Valentines Day

I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.

"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."

I can hear a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.

"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."

Footsteps draw nearer.

"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."

Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze. Eddie lies face down passed out 3 feet away.

"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.

"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."

Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.

"That would be for the best."

2nd time:

Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.

“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.

I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.

“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”

Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.

Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks

“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”

I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.

“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”

My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.

Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.

“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”

My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....

Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.

“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”

3rd time:

“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Faces favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”

Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”

“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.

Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.

“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s de office.

“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”

“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”

My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.

“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”

Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing again. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.

“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”

I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.

“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.

“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."

I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.

“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”

The two teens share a glance.

“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”

Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.

With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.

“See you later.”

I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.

#batfamily #batbros #batfamily x reader #batman #red hood x reader #batfam #red hood #tim drake #jason todd x reader #jason todd #robin x reader #bisexual

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lunawritingspaceoxoxxx · 10 months

Text

Wanted - Hobie Brown x Black Fem Reader

No minors, 18+ only

Tw: Angst, Rough Sex, Dirty talk, dick piercing, cheating

You rubbed your eyes as you blankly stared at your work screen, the days bleeding into weeks–into months as life went on. Relationships are hard; bearing your soul to another person and allowing them to see the most authentic version of you is scary, downright nerve wracking. Pulling your locs into a loose bun as you doubled down on your report that was due in the morning.

It’s been days since you last saw Hobie. One moment, the two of you were at a concert, enjoying yourselves and the next moment, he was gone in a blink and you couldn't help the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach, unable to hold anything down. ‘It’s fine—he does this all the time, I don’t know why it feels so painful this time.’ But you knew why; exactly two months ago, Hobie and you were relaxing in his apartment—he finally had a day where the corrupt government wasn't planning anything too inferious. You watched him strum his guitar, humming to himself.

“What’s going on in your head, pretty girl?” He rasped as he lazily glanced over, the weed making his eyes slightly closed, mirroring your expression. “Nothing, just relaxing.” A lie. You loved the Spiderman in front of you, you wanted nothing more than him to reciprocate your feelings, but he didn’t like conformity and labels—which made life with him difficult. Hobie and you were very touchy with each other, lingering hands and stares were common and talking freely about past sexual conquests was a staple in any conversation. Then that’s where the lines between friends began to blur.

You couldn’t deny your feelings for the self proclaimed anarchist, he knew you from the inside out and backwards, which made it harder to go see when he was around. A cute little blond, chilling on his bean bag and greeting you like you were an old friend. “Hey, this is Gwenie, Miguel just brought her in.” Your world shattered instantly, Hobie looked at her as if she had painted the stars. You’ve known Hobie for years, earning his trust and being exposed to deep, personal things, which made it a slap in the face, especially when Gwen knew about their inside jokes.“Love, you’re spacing out again,” Hobie snapped his fingers,”I said, what are you doing this weekend? I asked Miguel to give me a weekend off and wanted to spend time with my favorite girl.” You snorted, rolling your eyes as you hit the bong, blowing smoking into the room as you leaned your head back. “Going on a date with a coworker.”

Hobie paused, narrowing his eyes as if you had grown a third head. “A date?” “Yeah, we’ve been talking for a moment,nothing too serious.” His blood began to burn, nodding his head as he stared blankly at the wall. “Nothing serious, ay? What about us-” “About what? We fuck, we smoke, that’s really about it. We barely hangout, I kinda chalked us to be friends with benefits, but you don’t like labels nor conformity.” You pushed yourself off the bag as you grabbed your bag, slipping on your sandals. “Love, where are you going? You gonna leave this? Be a coward and run away?” You shrugged your shoulders, nodding your head. “Yeah, I am because I don’t like my time being wasted and that's what you’re doing. Hobie–fuck, I think I may love you and I don’t want to be another notch in your bed frame. You don’t value me as a friend, why does Gwen know our inside jokes? You only call when she’s busy, it’s like I became a backup to her and it’s not fair to me.”

Fast forward two months, Hobie seemingly ignored your confession and acted like nothing happened, you weren’t going to bring it up, so life continued on. It just felt like a massive wall between you, hangouts became even more rarer and as if you lost your best friend overnight. Eric, your coworker, he’s fun, safe, and don’t get it twisted, you like him, but he could be a little boring at times. “Babe, there’s an event going on tomorrow night at the science museum, underneath the stars while being able to observe natural history.” Your eye twitched, sighing softly before you flashed the fakest smile. “Yeah, sounds great, let me check my calendar.” Spray Painting Session w/ Hobie. The last time you and Hobie hung out, it ended early by him stepping away for a smoke break and never returning. Did you really want to risk that, because things were awkward and you tried to address it, but he was adamant about not hearing you out, playing the “I’m busy, gotta go" card.

“Sure, I have to go shopping for a decent dress after this email.”

You sighed as you admired your in the mirror, donning this slick, elegant black little number, pulling your locs to the side. Eric has already left, claiming that his manager needed his expertise on some stuff. “Dressed up for me?” You scoffed at the familiar voice, continuing to blend in your foundation. “Why you getting dressy, we’re only spray-painting-” “Hobart, I’m going to a private event tonight with Eric.” Hobie watched you through the mirror, locking his jaw–his hands grazing the backrest. “Not the government name, must be serious then. Why you choosing that tosser over me? What so great about him?” Hobie watched as you stepped away, slipping into elegant velvet heels. “He’s my boyfriend and I want to support him, is that a difficult concept for you to wrap your head around.” Hobie clicked his tongue, sprawling out onto the silk sheets, much to your annoyance.

“It’s not, but I don’t appreciate my girl isolating me for some git. “ Hobie narrowed his eyes at your appearance. You looked absolutely stunning, there was no doubt in his mind, but this? Yeah, this was supposed to be meant for him only. “‘Your girl?’ That’s funny, I didn’t know that I was already spoken for, Hobie, look–you lost your chance, I confessed my feelings for you and you proceeded to ignore it, so I don’t appreciate being treated like some dog.” Brushing out a few winkles, you finished with the final touches as you grabbed your purse. “Love, you know I never meant to make you feel lesser, but labels-” “You hate labels! You hate consistency! I get it, but you actively led me on! The touches, the stolen kisses–I’ve cleaned your wounds, waited on hands and knees for you! What more do you want from me, I’ve given everything that I can.”

Hobie saw a broken girl in front of him, seeing the exhaustion in your eyes as he tried to come up with something–anything, scoffing you walked away, grabbing your keys as you headed out the door. He sighed, slipping through the window, the shadows masking his figure as you stepped out and met Eric outside. "Oh wow, darling, you look absolutely stunning.” Eric smiled as he twirled you around, Hobie’s fists clenching in jealousy at the site of the couple. He watched as Eric’s hands traveled down your back, pulling you closer to him. “Aw, thank you, I-” Eric’s phone ranged, much to your annoyance as he flashed a pathetic smile as he stepped away. “Sir, we’re about to the event. No sir, but I would-okay. Okay, I’ll finish those tests tonight.”

“Eric, you promised, We never get to do things anymore.” Crossing your arms over your chest as Eric kissed your temple,” It’s frustrating to cancel dates over your boss, why can’t he run tests and let you enjoy the night off?” You could feel tears swelling underneath your eyes as you sighed, pulling away from him. Your feelings for Eric were different from Hobie’s, but to be let down again, maybe you were destined to be alone. “Just text me when you get home.”

This gnawing feeling only grew with every step, close to tears as you pulled off of your heels. You sighed as you leaned against the stainless steel wall, paying no mind when Hobie walked in. “Y/N” “Shut up, please, just hush.” He scoffed as he towered over you, grabbing your chin as he made you look into his eyes. “Listen, love, I know you’re frustrated, but you don’t have to give me lip. I’m trying to be here for you.” Your blood began to flash red hot as you pushed him away, jabbing your fresh set into his chest. “Why now? You haven’t been here for months! Is it because you want to get your dick wet?!”

“No, it’s not, for fuck’s sake, I miss you alot, you make everything okay when I’m going through tough shit, but I also tend to push my friends away. Y/N, everything with the spider society, I couldn’t help, but shut you out, you aren’t apart of it and it wasn’t right of me, but you fell in love with that git and just pushed me away. You flaked out on me because of what? Him.” Hobie was absolutely right, you weren’t even trying to give an excuse. Jealousy was a twisted emotion, clouding your judgment to the point where there was nothing that he could say to change your mind. “Because he’s my boyfriend and you clearly didn’t want me, I wasn’t going to act like a puppy, so I can still have your friendship. I’m sorry, I can’t function that way.”

Hobie’s watch began to beep, groaning as Miguel’s face popped up. He shut off the watch with no regrets as the elevator’s doors opened. Storming to your apartment with him hot on your heels. “I never not wanted you! I thought that it was obvious when we slept together, do you think I sleep around town, inviting anyone into my bed?” You glared at him as he flopped onto your bed, his eyes watching you through the vanity mirror. “But it didn’t stop you flirting with girls right in front of me.” He watched you debeautify yourself, the dark circles underneath your eyes becoming more apparent. You two remained in silence as you began to strip down, revealing the deep emerald lace thong. “You wore that for him and he still left? The boy is so ungrateful,” Hobie pushed himself off the bed as he grasped your hips, pulling you flush against him,”Having the most beautiful little thing in his bed and not doing a damn thing with you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his rough hand traced along your body, tugging at the thin material as his other hand grazed your collarbone. Snapping out of your trance, you pushed him away, immediately slipping on a robe. “Yeah no, you’re done, get out. I’m not cheating on Eric with you.” “Why are you pushing me away so much? You clearly want me and I want you, what’s so difficult about that?” “Because Hobie, I want you a boyfriend, I love you and I don’t want anyone else, but you don’t like labels, exclusivity is hard for you-” “Bullshit, it’s not hard, I just didn't want my old flings, you want to know why? They weren’t you, just how Gwen and I are close, I don’t want her because I knew you were jealous of her. She may know some of our inside jokes, but she doesn’t have what you have.” Hobie pulled you onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you as if you could break free from his grasp.

“Y/N, we have history together and it’s frustrating to see this wedge between us, it’s hard coming home and knowing that you won’t be there, eating my snacks and being menace to me.” He fondly smiled at your giggle, pulling you closer to him. “I love you, if I wasn’t being clear, Y/N, I know you don’t love Eric, he’s obviously a distraction. Come back to me, let me show you why it’s worth it.” Your breath hitched as the palm of his hand trailed upwards,tugging lighty at the thin piece of fabric. His warm breath fanned against your throat, leaving small kisses starting the base trailing towards your jaw. “Darling…” “Hobie, what about-” You winced at the sharp pain, you could feel his eyes staring into your fiber of yourself. “Don’t speak about him, it’s just us, princess.”

Hobie stepped out of the bed, pulling off his studded jacket and shirt. He bore a shit-eating grin, knowing you were just as excited as him, shaking like a chihuahua. He pulled you towards the edge by your ankle, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses down your leg. “Take it off, show me your tits, sweet cheeks.” Hobie groaned as you tossed your robe to the side, taking in everything. Gasping as his rough hand immediately latched onto your boobs, pinching and twisting your nipples being mindful of your nipple piercings.

“H-Hobie, please-” He gave you a warning look as he bent down, taking one of the pierced buds in mouth, rolling it around as he relished in your cries. It’s been too long and he knew Eric wasn’t fucking you right. He groaned as he felt you rub against his bulge, your legs were wrapped around his waist as if he was going to vanish into thin air. “Nah, princess, this is about you, don’t worry about me.” Hobie ripped off your thong with ease, tossing the shredded fabric to the side.

You hid your face in the plush pillows as he rubbed your clit with no mercy, just the way you like it—much to his annoyance. His hands tangled in your locs, yanking your head up. “None of that hiding shit, let me hear you.” He grabbed your hip with his free hand, pushing two fingers in, immediately curling upwards as you cried out. “Words, princess, you miss my fingers? You squeezing me like a vice.” He pushed your limits as he nipped and sucked at your neck, relishing in your cries.You pulled him towards your lips by his wicks, sloppily making out as you reached his belt, tugging at his spiked belt. “My fucked out little whore, god I missed this look on you.” Hobie has pulled your hair back, shoving his drenched fingers down your throat. He could see the lust in your eyes because he knew that cornball wasn’t satisfying you.

Meanwhile Eric raced home, rushing through the lab results, uncaring if they were accurate or even legible, he just needed to get back to you as soon as possible. He patiently waited to be let in, he couldn’t wait for the day that he moved in with you, the buzzing in and then waiting seemed stupid to him. He waited patiently, humming softly as time went on. “Eric? What are you doing down here? I thought I could hear you and whats her name.” One of your neighbors gave him a puzzled look, letting him inside of the building. “Oh no, I had some last minute business at the lab, I’ve been there for awhile now.”

“A fucking cock whore,”Hobie brutally fucked your throat as you leaned off the bed, pinching your nipples,”You love this cock, don’t you?” Bobbing your head as he reached further down your throat. He watched as your eyes rolled back, jaw going slack. “You ain’t passing out on me?” “No..’m not passin’” You weakly sat up, trying to catch your breath, but not before being pushed down onto your silk sheets. “Good, because I’m not done yet.” With no remorse, he pushed inside of your pussy, setting a brutal pace as you screamed into your pillows, his prince albert piercing was way too overwhelming. “Fuck me, creaming on my cock this fast, oh I know he wasn’t fucking you properly.” You whined as he continued to fuck you with no hestation, gripping your thighs as subconsciously you knew that you would be marked by him.

His other hand reached in, furiously rubbing your clit, trying to extract another orgasm from you. “Fuck, your pussy was meant for me, only me that can fuck you so good, aint that right?” He pulled your head back, smirking at your tears. “Y-Yeah!” “Wasted two months of my time, fucking some limp dick, lanky kid, but this pussy? It belongs to me.” Hobie didn’t care about the neighbors banging on the walls, when he was fucking the girl of his dreams. “Yes, fuck! It belongs to you, only you!” Babbling as you couldn;t form a coherent thought, he slapped your tits, cursing as he felt your pussy pulse around his sensitive cock.

He could feel his balls tightening as he knew you were about to come, your moans only grew louder. “Come on, come on this cock.” Sobbing as you tried to slip from his grasp, the pleasure becoming borderline painful, but Hobie wasn’t going for that. “Come now or you don’t all.” He growled in your ear as you squirted across the sheets, your tired body trembling uncontrollably. He grunted, slamming into you, his lower half completely drenched, cursing as his warm cum coated your walls. Landing into the silk pillows face first as your arms went, Hobie plucked a plug from your nightstand, making sure you wouldn’t waste his cum. “Told you were mine, cut the bullshit labels and just be committed to one another.” He pulled you onto his chest as he drew circles onto your bare back. Hobie noticed a picture frame of you and Eric, smiling and he was kissing your cheek, webbing it to a random wall. He could finally be at ease, knowing that limp dick wasn’t going to be around for much longer.

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown smut

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fleur-bbyy · 1 year

Text

BIRTHDAY BOY

✰ wc: 2.9k

✰ warnings: female reader, in the porn cinematic universe, p in v sex, rimming, pegging, unprotected sex, am sleepy will edit this im the morning apologies for spelling mistakes.

✰ a/n: happy birthday to my fav fictional boy! i think I restarted this a total of seven times and this one was the one i was the most content with. branched out of my comfort zone a bit but it was well worth it.

“fuck- ride my shit. ride it like it’s yours.”

the sounds of his sweaty skin slapping against your equally as sweaty skin filled the air of your bedroom. his heavy balls hitting your ass each time you bounced on him. his big hands roaming your body, only stopping to grope at your ass and tits. your body working overtime to bring him to his high.

you had started the evening out nicely, both in looks and events. you made sure weeks ago that bakugo wasn’t to be scheduled to shoot anything on his birthday so he could take the day off and relax. even going as far to make him turn off notifications for his socials and putting his phone on do not disturb so he wouldn’t be bothered by work at home.

you had cooked for him, finding out his favorite foods through your growing time shared together. you had also dressed up a bit. donning some of your more nicer, but still relatively casual clothing and putting on some of the blue colored mascara you knew he went crazy for. although he never really showed emotion, you could tell he was thankful for the effort you put in for his birthday.

now you looked a beautiful mess. blue-tinged tear tracks ran down your cheeks and your lipgloss had been smudged, but he still thought you looked like you were sent from the heavens. katsuki thrusted up into your needy, aching hole even though you insisted he just sit back and relax. telling him that you wanted to do the labor for his birthday, but he was never the one to hold back when he wanted something.

“y’gonna cum soon?” you couldn’t form the words to respond, instead just feverishly nodding your head. the fire in your belly only growing as you approached your release. “‘m so fuckin’ close. cum with me, baby. look at the fuckin’ camera and cum f’me.”

you’d hadn’t initially planned for this to be filmed. katsuki was the one who insisted on it. you tried to argue that having the camera would be like him still working, but he countered back saying he just wanted to be able to rewatch you whenever he pleased. who were you to keep trying to put up a fight with him on his birthday?

“gonna cum- fuckin’ shit- ‘m gonna cum so hard.” it only took a few more rough thrusts before you were arching your back and clenching down on him and he was spilling his seed into your wet heat. bouncing down on him to ride you both through your orgasms and going until he physically holds you down to stop you from moving.

“have some fuckin’ mercy. ‘m not as young as i was yesterday.”

“oh my god, you’re so damn corny.” you playfully slapped his shoulder and he gave you a half smile. one of those smiles you give someone when you’re too worn out for your muscles to pull your lips up all the way.

“i can be corny on my birthday.” he pulled himself out from you and laid is head back against the headboard for a few seconds to collect himself. lazily stroking your bare skin in the time being. “‘kay now, lemme up.”

“why? ‘m not done with you yet.” you firmly planted your hands against his bare chest to press him back down against your bed.

“what else could you possibly have prepared for me after dinner, the sloppiest head i’ve ever received, and amazing sex with a pretty girl?” you grinned a mischievous grin that didn’t go unnoticed by him. his face going from looking playful to a little more fearful.

“remember when I said I wanted to try something a little different with you?” he slowly nodded his head, narrowing his red eyes at you.

“thought we could maybe try it today?” you leaned over the edge of the bed to open your bedside drawer and pull out the dildo and harness that you had nestled away.

his reaction was honestly ten times better than expected. he didn’t explode into a fit of rage and he didn’t immediately deny you either. just stared at the silicone dick in your hand. a few moments of silenced passed before he replied.

“sure i guess.”

“i respect your choice and i’m sorry for- wait what?”

“i said sure. you goin’ deaf on me?” you inconspicuously pinched your leg to make sure you weren’t making this up.

“no. i just didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“well I did. you’ve been good t’me since we met, might as well indulge you a bit.” you smiled at him and he mirrored your reaction. reaching around to grab the back or your neck and pull you into a sultry kiss. “now go put that shit on. show me whatcha got.”

you hopped up off the bed to put the harness on. carefully fastening each loop and tightening the straps. this wasn’t something you’d done before, only having been done to you by women that knew what they were doing. you couldn’t help but be curious on what it’s like to be on the giving end. bakugo watched your every movement. eyeing your hands as you adjusted everything for your body. he’d been with other people with dicks, he’d just never been the recipient. he couldn’t deny the nervous feeling that stirred in his gut.

“just take it easy on me, alright? don’t wreck my insides.” he said as you climbed back into bed with him.

“course not. i’ll take good care of ya, birthday boy.” you slotted your lips against in another sensual kiss. swiping your tongue across his pink lips and tasting the saliva that they were coated with. he groaned at the string of spit that still connected the two of you when you parted.

“gonna need you to flip on your stomach.” you spoke as you climbed out of the way.

“already? y’just gonna stick it in just like that?” the way his voice was kind of shaky made you giggle. the thought of him actually nervous about something was a wild thought.

“no, dumbass, just listen to me.” you slapped the inside of his thigh and waited for him to turn over. smirking as he rolled his eyes and did as told. rolling onto his stomach and making a show of arching his ass into the air.

“do i look just like you?”

“eh, you’re a little flatter than me,” you had positioned yourself behind him and caught a good look at his unamused expression, “you’re pretty hot though, i’ll give you that.”

“got that fuckin’ right. just had you screamin’ my name and- oh fuck.” the sudden feeling of the pad of your tongue pressing against his ass stopped his train of thought. he moved into your touch. trying not to grind into your face even though he was dangerously close. his cock had grown hard as a rock and began to drool pre onto your sheets.

“you’re so fucking good.” his voice was almost whiny, arching his back even more into your touch as you dipped your tongue in his hole. spit had began to drip from your mouth and pool onto the bed. you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching around and grilling his thick cock. running your thumb over his slit and smearing the pre he had produced down his shaft.

katsuki never thought he’d be so greedy for someone tongue-fucking his ass, but the way his body careened into your touch was undeniable. nobody had ever left him whining and panting like this. nobody had ever made him start to sweat so quickly. he began to wonder if you were somehow sent to earth to be his personal kryptonite.

you kept jerking him and eating his ass until he was pulling away from your touch and babbling on about how he didn’t want to cum before you even got to fuck him. giving him one final good lick from his balls to the curve of his ass.

“fuck, y’tying to kill me?” your core started to tingle at his breathless voice. a surge of dominance shooting down your spine knowing that you caused it.

“just giving you a good birthday.” your hand connected with his ass and he groaned at the feeling.

“think ‘m ready for you.”

“you sure? i didn’t finger you or anything.”

“i’m ten seconds away from fucking my fist if you don’t fuck me soon.” you smiled down at him and caressed his cheek. his skin looks rough, but he always feels so soft under your hands. you used your other hand to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, warming up a small amount and spreading it along the shaft.

“should’ve made you suck it.”

“you like to push your luck.” you both giggled a little. you cherished moments like this. little lulls in the intimacy that look awkward from the outside. it created the best memories that you enjoyed to replay in your head from time to time.

“you ready?” you rubbed the tip around his hole and waited for a response. just earning a nod of the head. you positioned yourself and leaned over his body, blonde hairs tickling your face as you leaned into his ear.

“happy birthday, katsuki.”

you slowly worked your way in. earning moans and groans from the man underneath you. your hand snaked it’s way to his face and turned his head to look at him. his pretty eyes were tightly screwed shut and you could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek. your soft lips met his once more in an effort to distract him from the unfamiliar stretch.

“y’don’t gotta go so easy on me,” he began once you pulled back from him, “was only joking earlier. i can take this shit.”

“you sure?” you had bottomed out after a while of shallow, slow thrusts to accustom him to the size.

“i’m katsuki fucking bakugo. i can take this shit.” a smirk creeped its way onto your face as you pulled almost all the way out.

“whatever you want, kats.” your hips roughly slammed back into his ass, causing him to jump forward a loudly let out a moan. your hips kept up the pace, it wasn’t as brutal as you could take, but it was bad enough for him to not be able to hold back the noises the left his throat.

your hands trailed up and down his sides in somewhat of an effort to relax him some more. nails lightly grazing his skin just enough to cause goosebumps to raise. his hips began to gently meet your thrusts as he got adjusted to the stretch.

“how’s it feelin’, kats?”

“so goddamn good.” it was as if the wind had been knocked out of him when he spoke. voice breathy and barely loud enough for you to register his words.

you used one of your hands to knock him off his hands and down to his elbows, allowing you to thrust deeper and also causing the tip to hit his prostate every time you bottomed out. the sensation unfamiliar to him and only causing his whines to grow louder and his impending orgasm to come even closer.

“makin’ me go fuckin’ crazy, baby.” something about how he already sounded so fucked out made your pussy gush onto the already soaked crotch of the harness. you reached around once more to you with his cock. the tile was an angry red and his pre continued to feverishly drip from his slit.

“gonna cum already, katsu?” you could feel his heavy balls tightening as you fondled them and it was becoming harder and harder to push in to his ass.

“shut up and let me have this.” he didn’t feel like being witty with you. in all honesty, he probably couldn’t even try to come up with a sarcastic remark. his brain was too foggy with pleasure for him to think.

your hand was small in comparison to his thick cock. it barely fitting around as you continued your ministrations. he was leaking all over your fingers as you jerked him and he was practically fucking himself on your cock trying to chase his orgasm.

“fuck.. ‘m gonna cum. please please don’t stop.” you could’ve been a bitch. could’ve got him back for all the times he’s edged you. could’ve denied him and waited for that impending feeling to subside and start all over again, but you weren’t a total asshole. deciding to save payback for another day.

your hand was beginning to cramp from how hard and fast you were jerking his dick. your hips beginning to stutter as if you could feel any sort of sensations from the silicone cock. your eyes traveling to his ass, the curve of his back, and to his face that was almost smushed in the mattress, and going back to his ass. the way it jiggled like yours when you were being hit from the back. you couldn’t deny how pretty he looked and you wanted to see how pretty he looked when he came from you topping him.

“come on kats, cum for me. i know you want to. just let go. fucking cum for me.” you had leaned over his hulking, sweaty figure once more to speak directly in his ear. lips ghosting the shell before you moved down to place open mouthed kisses on his neck’s sweet spot.

“i- shit- ‘m cumming- fuck fuck fuck.” he grunted one last time before he the coil twisted in his stomach finally unraveled. the first rope of cum shot as far as it could reach, hitting the part of his chest that was pressed to the bed. the next few still shooting a little closer to your fist, but still far enough that it didn’t touch your hand. the last few ropes spilling onto your fist as his hips still slightly bounced back on you to ride out the last bit of his orgasm.

you gently and slowly pulled out of him and he collapsed onto you bed. unfastening the harness and letting it drop to the ground before stepping your feet out from the holes.

“gonna go get water. you’ll be good here, right?” you took the lazy wave of his hand as a yes and scurried downstairs.

bakugo always claimed he wasn’t much of a sweet tooth, but you always watched the way his eyes widened when he came across red velvet cake. learning from one of his friends that his mom made it for him when he was younger and thus making it a favorite. you pulled quite a few strings to get in contact with his mom and convincing her to make the cake. having to drive a few cities away to pick it up.

you carefully cut a slice and placed it on a plate. grabbing a fork and making some ice water before returning back to your bedroom to see a sweatpant-clad katsuki taking your soiled sheets off the mattress and into your laundry basket.

“why are you doing my laundry on your birthday?”

“just felt like the nice thing to do.” he turned around and his eyes slightly widened at the sight of the slice of cake in your hands. “where’d ya get that?”

“had once last surprise for you. you’re just like mrs. bakugo.” you could’ve sworn his eyes softened when you said it was his mother that made the cake.

“thank you, seriously, haven’t had someone do so much for me on my birthday in a long time.” you handed over the plate and let him dig in whilst you threw on an oversized tee. noticing the red blink of something placed near your dresser.

shit. you forgot the camera was still recorded.

“how the fuck did this thing not run out of space?” you quietly grumbled to yourself, but it was still loud enough to catch the blond’s attention.

“you can edit that and post it if you want.”

“huh?”

“open your damn ears woman,” he paused to chew and swallow another bite of cake, “i know there’s a swarm of people that wanted to see me take one up the ass.” you guffawed at his last sentence as you took the camera card out to transport the footage to your laptop.

“thank you again. serious. i actually enjoyed gettin’ the princess treatment.”

“nothing to thank me for. just hope i made your birthday memorable.”

“oh definitely, sweets. won’t ever forget losing the back door virginity.” his large arms settled onto your shoulders as you inserted the card into the card reader. he placed a light kiss to your temple as you got to work on the computer.

“this mean you’ll let me do it again?”

“push your luck one more time i swear to god.”

“i’ll let you fuck me again if it means you’ll consider.” you smiled and looked back at him as he pretended to think. eyes rolling to look at the ceiling and tapping a finger against his chin.

“think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

#i prommy i will edit this in the morning but i am sleepy #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha smut #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bnha bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #fleur bbyy

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writeroutoftime · 7 months

Text

flufftober day 2 - family, friends, loved ones

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

words: 0.7k

oOoOo

“Sometimes it feels like we’re never going to get married.” you lamented to Keeley and Rebecca as the three of you sat around Rebecca’s flat, sipping on wine with a trashy movie on in the background.

Being engaged to one of the biggest, hotshot players in the league was not all it was cracked up to be. Just over a year ago, Jamie had gotten down on one knee and popped the question, but between your schedule and his, you were in a perpetual state of engagement.

“Babes, it’ll all work out, I know it. But as long as the two of you know the commitment you want to make to each other, that’s all that matters, right?” Keeley reassured you, rubbing a soothing touch up and down your arm.

“I suppose you're right.”

“Of course she is.” Rebecca interjected. “My wedding to Rupert happened weeks after he proposed, cost a fortune, was a whole fucking affair turned out to be a pile of shit.”

Though you and Keely tried to keep a straight face, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Rebecca’s mini rant, her eventually joining in. It made you feel a bit better, and the thought slowly began to dissipate from your mind.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you thought anything about your conversation with Keeley and Rebecca. You and Jamie had been called into the Dog Track, but neither of you were sure as to why. It was an off week for a match and a rare, free Saturday for the team to enjoy.

The two of you walked into the building, hand in hand, only to be met with Keeley and Roy, with a huge grin and a half scowl on their faces respectively.

“Finally!” Keeley cried, reaching to grab your hand and pull you away. Before Jamie could even protest, the blonde threw a quick “We’ll see you two later.” over her shoulder.

All your questions went unanswered until Keeley pulled you into Rebecca’s office, where the room in question stood waiting with three glasses of champagne and a mischievous smile on her face. You glanced around the room, eyes narrowed in confusion until you spotted a dress hanging a ways away - a white dress.

“Umm, guys, what’s going on?”

The two women looked at each other before looking back at you. “Do you trust us?” Rebecca asked.

oOoOo

Forty minutes later and you found yourself outside on the pitch, Jamie being led out by Roy and some of the other players. The two of you met in the middle and found Ted waiting there in a nice suit, and a cheesy grin on his face.

“Hey, y’all,” Ted started. “I know this isn’t necessarily the big day you probably dreamed of, but we thought we’d throw you this little party. Now Beard here has gotten himself ordained and we’re all ready to perform a little ceremony so that one of our favorite couples can call themselves hitched.” he smiled, before rushing to add on “‘Course, you don’t have to go through with this. We don’t mean to overstep, just wanted to do something nice for you two.”

You were stunned and overwhelmed by the love you felt from this team, and it was hard to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. A huge grin overtook your features and you turned to look at your fiance, giving him a questioning look. Jamie looked towards his team, back at you, and smiled with the slightest nod. Both of you knew what your answer was.

“We’d love to.” Jamie said and was quickly drowned out by the cheers of everyone waiting to hear your decision.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Jamie was rushed down to the makeshift aisle with Beard while Keeley and Rebecca quickly walked down as your ‘bridesmaids,’ and Ted stood back with you offering you his arm.

“Hope you don’t mind, but can I walk you down?” he asked.

By that point, tears of joy and love were streaming down your face as you could only nod in response. It might not have been the ceremony you were expecting, but all that mattered was that you were surrounded by the people who loved you and you, finally, got to join your life with the man you loved.

#flufftober2023 #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso imagine #rita writes

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eoieopda · 1 year

Text

lacuna (knj)

lacuna (n): a blank space, a missing part

In his twenty-eight years, Kim Namjoon had made countless mistakes. Most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. The worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night.

Loving you, losing you, and now – picking up the phone.

Pairing: Ex!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot (Angst, Smut - 18+ or else.) Word Count: Like, 7K (?!) Content: ex-boyfriend au; exes to something?; literally so much angst; yearning; pov switches; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex; p in v penetration; cursing; texts from Yoongi. A/N: For reasons unknown, I decided to break my own heart today! The lyrics you'll see below are from "Sooner" by The Low Blow. There's also a reference to one of my favorite tv shows at the end - did you catch it? (1/9/23) The sequel, Redamancy, is finally here! (3/17/23) There is now a playlist 🥲

Sitting cross-legged on the rug, your weary, unfocused eyes stared somewhere in the vicinity of Min Yoongi. Shrouded all in black, you nearly assumed he was your sleep paralysis demon, hunched over his keyboard with his eyes narrowed in thought – but you hadn’t slept much at all lately. Not with your deadline looming overhead like the sword of Damocles.

He relayed what was already looping through your brain. “It’s missing something.”

You scrubbed your hands over your face, too burnt out to care if your foundation stayed where it was supposed to. “I know,” was all you said, though it wasn’t all you were thinking. Listening to this demo – this crushing song about love lost – you knew what was missing.

Or rather, who.

Once again reading your mind, Yoongi spoke with a wary sigh. This time, he said the quiet part out loud. “Listen, I know that on a personal level, this is a terrible idea. But if you really want this track to ache –”

“I’ll call him.”

Yoongi turned to look at you over his shoulder. He, like you, hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; but his surprise still managed to crack through an otherwise impassive expression.

“You sure you want to be the one?” His frown was microscopic, but it was there and it bruised. “I have to hit him up, anyway, so I can handle this for you.”

You’d never told him – or any of your friends, come to think of it – the details of your whatever it was with Namjoon. You couldn’t call it a breakup; that would necessitate a relationship. You couldn’t comfortably assign that word to this indescribable something.

But maybe that’s precisely why it hurt to breathe when you thought too hard about it. Maybe the thing that burned in your lungs was the fact that whatever it was wasn’t much of anything at all.

The universally known narrative was that you met Kim Namjoon at a release party two years prior. After years of putting out extended plays, he was dropping his highly anticipated, full-length masterpiece.

That’s what your label called it; that’s what the press called it; but you couldn’t agree. That word wasn’t heavy enough – it didn’t give due credit to the pieces of himself he broke down and buried within those twelve tracks. You felt seen when you heard it. When you saw him, it was game over.

As the story goes, you went home with him that night. While true, it was the tiniest fragment sitting sharp at the tip of an iceberg. The rest was an ill-equipped ship, sailing in slow-motion through the dark.

He'd spent the entirety of his celebration focused on you. What you thought; what you wanted for yourself; what made that tipsy, uninhibited giggle come flying out of your chest. And then, holding his hand like it’d been tailor-made for yours, you followed his lead out of there while confused partygoers murmured in your wake.

He fucked you like he knew you – on a cellular level – and he looked at you like you were all there was. You’d spent the entirety of the following day there, draped over him or nestled underneath him. You were never not touching in some way – in the little interludes of sleep; while cooking a breakfast too big for the two of you alone; on every surface of his apartment.

He changed your life in those twenty-four hours, but not enough for it to stick.

You’d spent as much time with him as you could in the year afterward, until your twin ambitions sent you both rocketing in other directions. Your various obligations never allowed you to be in the same place for long; and when they did, it was over too soon. No amount of time would ever feel like enough, but half a day, here and there, felt like a cosmic joke.

Like the universe was punishing you for wanting everything, all at once.

Eventually, you came to a fork in the road. His career, though international, was rooted in Korea – home. Yours took you to Los Angeles, to a vastly different time zone, and a schedule that refused to make space. And you tried, but when it came down to choosing – idling together or racing forward alone – your respective dreams were so heavy that they tipped the scales.

Neither of you could blame the other. After all, you’d both made the same decision. There was some small comfort in knowing that he understood you. That consolation couldn’t keep you warm at night when you’d instinctively reach out and find half of your bed still empty.

It would’ve been so much easier to live without him if there was some horrible betrayal to pin it all on, but he was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him.

Shaky legs pushed you off the ground. Without meaning to, you groaned as your body returned to its regularly scheduled programming. Yoongi simply muttered, “Same,” as he made additional adjustments in his editing software.

You affectionally touched your knuckles to his shoulder as you passed by, though you quickly realized this gesture wasn’t made to comfort him.

You shut the door softly behind you and headed up the hallway. Having kicked off and subsequently lost your shoes several hours ago, you padded in socked feet across the hardwood. The pattern – the various evolutions of Eevee – clashed so blatantly with the extravagance around you. Glancing down, you chuckled. At least some parts of you were still recognizable.

The door to the stairwell creaked as you pushed it open and ducked inside. No longer camped out in the soundproof studio, you could hear the smattering of raindrops as they pummeled the exterior walls of the building. Somewhere between a drum roll and machine gun fire, you couldn’t figure out if the noise emphasized or relieved your anxiety.

Gently, you lowered yourself down on a step halfway up the flight. As you stared down at your phone, your knee bounced of its own volition.

For once, you were thankful for the seventeen-hour time difference. This was the kind of call you needed to make at midnight, but one you didn’t want him receiving at midnight. It felt so much safer in daylight.

At least one of you had eyes on the sun.

You’d deleted his number from your phone months ago because you thought it might help you let go. It didn’t. And to make matters worse, you still knew it by heart. As you typed it out easily, you wished this realization surprised you. You also wished that you’d catch him at a bad time, so you could simply leave a message.

You’d never been lucky, though, had you?

Namjoon was half-asleep at a café table when the vibration of his phone against the wrought metal snapped him out of it. In his under-caffeinated daze, he couldn’t determine what that unbearable grinding noise was.

He could, however, see the way the elderly woman nearby was scowling at him. He furrowed his brows and blinked back at her; silently asking what the fuck her problem was. Just as silently, she pointed an angry, wrinkled finger to his tabletop.

By the time his brain kicked into gear, he was too late. He picked up his now-quiet phone and nearly dropped it in an instant when he saw your name tied to a missed call.

He didn’t think twice before returning it – he should have – having figured there was only one way to know if he was truly hallucinating. You picked up immediately in a voice so you that he couldn’t have imagined it. He knew because he'd already tried.

“Hey.”

People who didn’t know you often mistook the natural rasp of your voice for tiredness, but he did know you. You were beyond exhausted, more so than the last time he’d heard from you. Five months and twenty-one days ago.

This sounded like another all-nighter; like you got so consumed in creating that you couldn’t sleep until you finished. Remembering you like this opened a black hole in his chest – all this fondness with nowhere to go, collapsing in on itself, pulling.

What kind of masochist was he, voluntarily subjecting himself to this conversation?

“Hey,” He croaked. Even his voice didn't know what to do.

He heard shuffling on your end. You always pinned your phone between your right ear and shoulder to start — he immediately recognized the sound of your hair against the receiver when you switched it to your left side. Vanilla and honey flooded his nose despite the thousands of miles that separated him from the scent of your shampoo.

There were a thousand questions spinning dizzy in his mind, but he couldn’t untangle them to spit one out. The longer you both remained quiet, the worse it got – and the worse he felt for his silence. Even without seeing you, he knew that your brows were knitting together. He knew that quiet made you feel too exposed.

Namjoon cleared his throat to speak at the same moment you asked, “How are you?” His words echoed, a half-second from being uttered in unison.

He prayed to any god that he’d stop feeling so nervous. There was no reason to be, not with you. You were his comfort zone, his safe space and – oh. Past tense.

Presently, you were – what, exactly? Could he call you an “ex” if you’d never had a title? It all felt too juvenile, hearing people whisper about his girlfriend. You were –fuck – You were home, and now his house was haunted.

A ghost.

“I’ve been good,” he said quickly, planting a hollow smile on his face that wouldn’t have convinced you if you were there. Liar, liar, liar. “Busy. You sound –”

“Awful?”

“– like you’ve been working all night.”

He heard a sheepish chuckle and his clumsy, thudding heart went flying off into the void.

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” you admitted in a voice so tiny he nearly missed it, “And I wouldn’t be – I promise – if I could’ve bothered anyone else with this. This one, though… when I hear it in my head, I can’t imagine anyone –”

“Say less.”

It slipped out of him automatically. He couldn’t stop it. Now it was dangling there in dead air where he couldn’t reach it and shove it back down his throat. He must have said that to you a thousand times, giving you whatever you needed before you could even finish asking.

This was the first time he’d ever said it without punctuating it with a kiss to your forehead, though. And now, his equilibrium was off, like the staircase had one less step than he was expecting.

When you finally broke the silence, he could’ve sworn he heard you sniffle, but he quickly kicked that thought back into the cage it escaped from. Your voice didn’t sound sad at all, so you couldn’t have been crying. Why would you be?

“I can have Yoongi send you what we have so far, lyrics too. If you’re interested, just let me know – verse, bridge, whatever you want.”

“You’re with Yoongi?”

It came out exactly as he hadn't intended – accusatory. It was no business of his who you spent time with, professionally or otherwise. And it didn’t even surprise him that Yoongi would stick around after the – whatever it was. All your shared friends stayed shared. His confusion was solely that Yoongi never mentioned working with you, let alone flying stateside to do so.

Why hadn’t Yoongi said something? Did he assume Namjoon wouldn’t be interested in hearing about your project? Because he would - he kept up with all of your releases, even if it hurt. Was he scared that the mere mention of you would exacerbate the tailspin Namjoon was barely surviving?

Or was it something else?

“Yeah, he got here a few days ago. I offered to send the vocals to him, but he said he wanted In-N-Out,” Your laugh, even under the weight of your sleepiness, still packed a punch. “Might be the longest trip anyone’s ever made for animal-style fries.”

Namjoon felt like he was going to pass out, but for your sake, he tried to echo your laugh. “Sounds like he’s got his priorities in order, as usual.”

That uncomfortable silence crawled back in and settled in the space between you. It never used to be like this. His mouth remained open as if his broken brain could think of a single thing to say. There were hours in every second that passed, but he didn’t hang up – and neither did you.

“So, if I figure something out, I can shoot it back over –”

You interrupted this time.

“No need,” You chirped. You must’ve sensed that his train of thought now consisted only of question marks because you dove right back in, “I’ll be in Seoul at the end of the month, so we can put all the pieces together then.”

Please be speaking metaphorically. Please say –

“I’ve gotta hop off now, but it was –” Your voice petered out at the end of your statement, and he didn’t know what to do within the pause.

What pleasantry would you settle on to end this conversation? Was it nice to hear from him, or did you also feel like you’d walked through the emotional equivalent of a car wash?

It was heavy when you exhaled the amendment, hitting the ground with a thud that could’ve knocked him over.

It was torture, and it drop-kicked him into the abyss at full-speed. No light above, no hope below. A black hole that he kept selfishly refusing to close – all because he answered your call.

“Thank you, Joonie.”

Fuck. He was doomed.

You spent a shocking percentage of your life on international flights. It was a privilege – you knew it – to travel to the extent that you did, but it was so lonely.

If you were flying, there were two justifications. The first was the most common – touring. You’d touch down in cities all over the world, stay for a few hours, and then you’d leave again as soon as you could blink.

Your interactions were limited, either one-sided conversations from a stage; or facilitated entirely by a local translator. Never truly connecting, missed phone calls and texts sent too late to get a response. The same stale conversations with the crew that had been stuck with you for months.

The second was less common, and somehow even lonelier – visiting a home that was no longer yours.

It always went the same way. You’d touch down at the Incheon International Airport in your home country and feel just as foreign as the tourists bustling around you. You’d gather a suitcase’s worth of belongings and try not to think about the fact that they – and everything else you owned – once lived there, too. You’d hit customs and then, as a reward, snag yourself some boba from the café on your way out the door.

In all those trips, you’d never once hailed a cab because Namjoon was always waiting. You’d hear him before you saw him with how loud he kept his car’s stereo, but when you did finally lay eyes on him, you’d light up like a sparkler. He’d shower you with affection – publicly, despite his usually private nature – and swap out the luggage in your hands for some thoughtful surprise. Flowers, usually, after painstaking deliberation over the meaning he wanted to convey.

Now, you stood on the sidewalk with your empty hand in the air.

Shortly after settling into your cab, you fell asleep. The person who would have gently scolded you for taking this risk wasn’t there to do so. Instead, you woke up stiff and disoriented to the sound of your driver honking his horn. You quickly learned that he wasn’t honking at traffic; he was honking at you with a scowl on his face.

“Time to go! Wake up – your stop!”

He was speaking in English, so it took you a few moments to determine whether you were dreaming. Impatient, he honked again.

Did he think you were a tourist? Was he right?

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you threw the door open and hurled yourself out. You ran to the trunk, snatched your suitcase, and tried not to remember that you didn't used to have to do this part yourself.

Yoongi had the foresight to give you a spare keycard before leaving California, so you were able to get into his building quickly – before you were honked at again. Spoken to in English again, like this place had never been home.

You, belonging nowhere and to no one, kept yourself together until the elevator doors gave you some semblance of shelter.

Alone, alone, alone, you cried so hard that your shoulders shook. The mirrored walls around you showed infinite versions of you, all pitiful like you were still that little girl who’d gotten separated from her parents at an amusement park. It was incredible how you felt smaller in that elevator than you did as a child.

And fuck, did that embarrassment make you cry even harder.

Eventually, those doors would have to re-open, and you’d have to let yourself into Yoongi’s unoccupied penthouse just to wait for his return. You were so sick of walking into empty apartments and hearing nothing but your own footsteps. No warmth, no laughter, just a black hole of your own creation.

You chose this, you reminded yourself. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You were so busy chasing broader horizons, you didn't notice that the sun had disappeared. If you’d known – really, truly known – what the fall would be like, would you have taken that leap of faith? No, you think, but you did and there’s no jumping back into the airplane once you’ve dived out of it.

Ding.

There was a post-it note waiting for you on the inside of Yoongi’s door that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t taken so much time to shut it behind you. His handwriting was shockingly neat for someone who was always in a rush. His note told you that he’d be home in two hours, that there was food for you in the refrigerator, and that you should help yourself to whatever you needed.

The sinkhole in your stomach wasn’t created by hunger, so you pushed that down to the bottom of your to-do list and dragged your luggage to the guest bedroom down the hall.

Every inch of his place was undeniably Yoongi – monochromatic and edgy, but still so confusingly inviting. His guest room was similar in style, but with more personalized touches than most visitors tended to expect. Framed photos of friends, and the collaborators he was most proud to work with.

Your eyes eventually found one of you, beaming brightly.

It hurt to look, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. It was taken in a photobooth at Kim Seokjin’s wedding last spring. You were sandwiched on a small bench seat between Yoongi and Namjoon.

The former, like you, was captured in the middle of a laugh - smiling at the camera with all teeth, eyes crinkled at the edges but still sparkling. The latter wasn’t looking at the camera at all – just you, like you were all there was.

Forcing yourself to look away, you returned the frame to its place on the vanity and kept moving. Your primary instinct was to hurl yourself into the plush bed and never leave it. But you felt stale after spending so much time traveling, and you didn’t want to collapse into those beautiful sheets until you’d scrubbed the day off you.

Shuffling off to the bathroom, you finally remembered to take your phone off ‘airplane mode.’ All at once, the floodgates opened. The onslaught of texts, emails, and voicemails was so overwhelming that your phone froze.

When the flurry stopped, you scanned through your various inboxes for anything that might require an immediate response. Finding nothing urgent, you were about to set your phone down when you saw an email from Namjoon, addressing both you and Yoongi.

His verse, you realized as you opened it.

I think I lost you sooner than I wanted to And I know you can't say the same But I can't hate you for doing what you've gotta do Cause I'm just in bed sleeping through the pain Do you see wasted potential when you look at me? Of what we could be if it wasn't like this I know you asked me not to try and change myself But when I was with you, I felt fixed

It took everything you had not to drop to your knees.

Namjoon was an incredible liar.

He didn’t utilize the skill often – in fact, he was usually too honest – but when he did, he could get himself out of any unwanted scenario.

In the distant past, he’d slip out of obligations made by his label to stay home in bed with you. It worked every single time. Instead of putting on some over-priced suit, wasting his breath swapping empty pleasantries with industry tools; he’d be hooking his arms around your quivering thighs, pinning you to his face as he fucked you with his tongue.

In the present, he lied again.

Yoongi asked, “How did it feel to hear from her again?”

“To be honest,” Namjoon started, knowing full well that nothing he said next would be, “That shit’s behind me, man. I was surprised her number was still in my contacts, you know? She’s been a non-factor for a minute.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “With the number of girls you’ve gone through in the meantime, I imagine it gets hard to keep track.”

Hook, line, sinker.

Namjoon offered a smirk and a shrug in response, which Yoongi accepted without further comment. The relief of being believed did nothing to cure the nausea swirling in Namjoon’s stomach, though - not just for the cruelty of his lie, but for the way he’d acted since you left and stayed gone.

He learned early on that it would take more than fucking someone he didn't know to keep warm, but knowing better didn’t mean he did better. None of them – and there were many – could pull him from the limbo he found himself in without you. There was an emptiness gnawing at his insides that he couldn’t fill, and the more he tried, the more it tore at him.

The only thing he succeeded at was becoming someone he didn’t recognize –someone he didn’t even like.

Yoongi pulled into his parking garage and turned to Namjoon, staking him through the heart with words alone. “Well, the non-factor is upstairs, so try to remember her name when you see her.”

Namjoon chuckled, but it didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing. There was a flicker of doubt in Yoongi’s quickly flexed eyebrow, though he kept any questions he may have had to himself. Without a word, they clambered out of the car, and they stayed quiet until they stepped into the elevator.

“How has she been?” Namjoon asked more quietly than he meant to. Like someone who’s scared of the answer - or worse, being asked why he’s asking. Quickly diverting further inquiry, he provided clarification Yoongi hadn’t sought. “Sounded tired as fuck on the phone.”

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon before selecting the button marked with his floor number. “You know how she is,” He hummed.

That one hurt. He knew how you were – past tense.

Except for that one phone call, he hadn’t heard your voice in months. He hadn’t seen you for even longer than that. Your number hadn’t changed, but for all he knew, everything else could have. All he had now was his memory’s pale imitation of you, always in sight but never within reach.

A ghost that disappeared into the walls before he could get too close.

When the elevator door opened, Namjoon was fighting between running forward and running away. Incapable of doing either, it was Yoongi’s light punch on his bicep that prompted his feet to move. Namjoon trudged along after him until Yoongi stopped short with a groan.

“The fuck?” Namjoon coughed as he collided with Yoongi’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re already winded, dude. I’m not giving your old ass a piggy-back ride.”

The scowl he received could’ve scorched the Earth.

“I forgot my fucking phone in the car.” Yoongi tossed his apartment key at Namjoon. It thudded against his unsuspecting chest only to be caught on the rebound.

Then, Yoongi pointed at the door. “Go play nice and figure out where we’re getting take-out from. I had a dream about bulgogi last night that was borderline sexual, so keep that in mind.”

Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be trying my best to keep it out, so thanks for that.”

Yoongi had already turned around, waving a dismissive hand as he stalked off.

As soon as Namjoon heard the elevator doors close, his phone chirped in his pocket and caught him off guard. He glanced down to find a text from Yoongi – who was, apparently, also a liar.

Yoongi [18:19 PM]: fyi you always say “to be honest” when you’re about to say some bullshit Yoongi [18:19 PM]: "non-factor" my asssssss

Namjoon grimaced and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking to Yoongi’s door with his heart in his throat.

Clearly, Yoongi wanted Najmoon to fix things with you. He’d crafted some false narrative to get himself out of there, to give Namjoon the time and space to do it. But there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could say to rebuild the bridge you’d both demolished together.

That is, if you even wanted him to try.

After unlocking the door, he froze. A full minute passed before his hand received his brain’s signal to turn the knob, and even then, his feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. If hearing your voice made him spiral, he was terrified of what the sight of you might do.

More than anything, he was scared to see how you looked at him – and he didn’t know what reaction he wanted. If you lit up the way you used to, it might kill him. If you had no reaction at all, it would definitely kill him.

He would’ve stalled at that threshold all night if you didn’t appear in the hallway, straight ahead. You froze like a deer in headlights, one hand still on the door you’d exited from. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.

He didn’t notice the red rims around your eyes right away, but once he did, every cell in his body screamed at him to run to you, to hold you.

But he didn’t.

Touching you now only to lose you again tomorrow - well, that was a scab he couldn’t rip off again. There was only scar tissue where his heart used to be.

“Hey,” You smiled so sweetly when you saw him, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Those fucking eyes! He’d give up everything he had to erase the sadness swimming behind them, threatening to spill out.

Why were you still so far away?

You glanced around him, noting Yoongi’s absence, but didn’t ask where he was. “I was thinking we could get something from that –”

The longer he stared at you, the more impossible it became to keep his distance. He couldn’t stand on that doorstep with you over there, trying so hard to look like you hadn’t been crying – like you weren’t about to start again.

Fuck it.

If he was so dead-set on re-breaking his own heart, he’d do it with you in his arms.

“Joonie, is everything oka–”

No, nothing was. Nothing had been, not for – fuck, are his eyes getting misty? - a long time. Not since you walked out of his apartment for the last time, and he let you. He couldn’t make any of it okay, but with you there now, he didn’t give a fuck about where you were before.

Your eyes were as big as the moon when he finally reached you, blinking your surprise up at him.

Did you really think he had any other option than to hold you? Did you have any idea how you looking at him like this - bare-faced, freshly-showered, vulnerable - demanded his immediate affection?

It felt like coming home, sliding his fingers through your still-damp hair. He could’ve fallen to pieces when the familiar scent of your shampoo – vanilla and honey – crashed over him, but he didn’t. His lips collided with yours, and for the first time in a fucking year, he felt whole.

You clung to him so desperately, you could’ve ripped a hole in his shirt. You couldn't care about that, though, because he kissed you and it was pure starlight. He kissed you hard, nicking your lip between his teeth until you opened your mouth against his.

You whimpered into him, drunk on the wet heat of his mouth, melting and falling and spinning and flying. You felt it all fall to the wayside, every second wasted without him, every text you didn’t send, every wrong turn that led you so far away.

You didn't realize until you finally broke apart that the tears on your cheek weren’t exclusively yours. His gaze locked with yours, and all either of you could do was gasp for air - chests heaving, lips kissed swollen. If not for the arm around your back, pinning you against his chest, you would’ve floated away. But he had you, completely.

Finally, you felt tethered.

Your trembling hand settled on the side of his face. Fuck! That face. The warmth of his skin, the heights of his cheek bones, the gentle slope of his nose.

How many mornings did you wake up and miss it? How did you ever fall asleep without it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, without the whisper of warm breath on your skin?

You wanted to scream until the hurt left your chest, but you didn’t dare – not with that face so perfectly close to yours.

He spoke first, “I’m so –”

Your eyes followed your thumb as it swiped over his bottom lip, unearthing a quiver that burned you up inside. He was paralyzed by your touch. Enraptured. Leaving that clause hanging open in the air.

His eyes were wide with anticipation as he watched you, pupils dilating when you whispered. “Say less.”

Faster than you could process, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. Automatically, your legs locked behind his back; your lips re-captured his and his kiss never faltered as he carried you back into the guest room. Quickly and with a shocking display of control, he kicked the door closed without slamming it – or breaking it.

Like so many times before, he laid you gently onto the mattress as if you were crafted from porcelain. And when he finally pulled away from you, you gazed up at him in awe.

This was one of the million reasons you couldn’t seem to let him go – the way his eyes softened when you were breathless underneath him, like you were the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

There were too many things to be said that neither of you could verbalize. You felt them all falling down around you like confetti, loose ends to be tied up later. He didn’t need to say a thing, so long as he kept looking at you like that.

When his fingers landed at the hem of your shirt, you knew what came next. A dance you’d done a thousand times, you lifted your arms for him to pull it up and off. Still damp from your shower, the ends of your hair raised goosebumps as they chilled the bare skin of your back.

He moved slowly and without breaking eye contact as he unbuttoned your jeans. Your zipper followed, then your jeans and underwear in tandem. The denim dragged so deliciously against your thighs as he slipped them down, down, down. As he tugged them off your ankles, you discarded your bra and tossed it aside. You were entirely bare and shivering with anticipation when his gaze found you again.

His shirt soon joined yours on the floor. Kneeling between your legs, his bare chest burned against your own as he kissed you for the third time. So many more were needed to make up for lost time, but you could feel how much of himself he poured into the kisses he’d credited you with so far. The taste of his mouth on yours was indescribably intoxicating after so much time apart.

With you sufficiently distracted, the hands that cupped your face began to migrate. You felt so small under his touch, reduced to putty in the warm expanse of his palms. His face lowered too, freeing your mouth to moan as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.

Involuntarily, you gasped when his fingers pinched at one of your nipples. The curve of his smile impressed upon your throat as he suckled at the sensitive skin he found there, leaving clouds of indigo behind.

As he marked you, he rolled and tweaked your nipples in turn. Your eyes fluttered shut and you keened while your head crashed back against the pillows, “That mouth – feels s-so fucking good.” Your fingers carded through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp; his silence broke with a shuddered moan.

“S’all I want, baby,” He hummed as his lips trailed down from your neck and beyond your collarbone. “To make you feel good.”

You were trembling when he claimed one of your nipples with his mouth. Then he had the audacity to look up at you from under his lashes when he released it with a lewd pop, causing your back to arch against his chest with a gasp. There was a rumble from deep within him when your grip on his hair tightened, and the sound alone made you gush.

“To taste you,” His tongue left a wet stripe above your navel as he continued his descent, large hands dipping beneath you to squeeze the doughy flesh of your ass. Shit - you would simply never recover from this. “To devour you until you melt in my mouth.”

Another sharp tug at his hair, another guttural moan breaking free from your chest.

How often had you dreamed of this in your time apart? How many times did you try to remember how it felt when that timbre whispered sins against your naked body? Fuck. With those words alone, he had you on the brink.

You whined when he pulled away from you; but it quickly turned into a gasp when he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged you with him towards the end of the bed. Now kneeling on the floor, he ducked below your knees until they rested over the tops of his shoulders.

Face so near to your aching core, he growled, and you felt it. “I missed this pussy –” He placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, prompting you to clench them reflexively. “I missed the way your thighs squeeze around me while you fuck yourself against my tongue.”

Shivering, slack-jawed, and stupid, you grabbed fistfuls of the comforter below you. He was so painfully close to your cunt and still so fucking far from you. You knew he could see how badly you craved him - you’d beg for his mouth if you had to.

Of course, you didn’t have to - you never did.

Seconds before your impatience could drive you fully insane, he was on you, tongue flat against your cunt, dragging up against your slit. When the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, you cried out with a buck of your hips. His grip on you tightened, pinning you flush against him as he teased you.

“That it’s, baby. Good girl.”

It’s a miracle either one of you could form words with how relentlessly he licked, nipped, and suckled on your throbbing cunt. All you could do was babble in response to his praise – until the tip of his tongue penetrated your weeping hole, and you screamed.

A flurry of curse words spilled from your lips; his name sprinkled in between the obscenities. Fuck, you needed more. More, more, more. You extended your arm and reclaimed your grasp on his locks. Once you did, you began to grind yourself against his tongue until your abdominal muscles burned - you hadn’t utilized them to this extent since the last time.

His hand squeezed your thigh, goading you, encouraging you to use him the way you needed to. The pressure of his tongue increased with your pace. You had no control over the sounds you made; the breathless moans escaped you before you could think of trapping them. The coil was tightening, burning red-hot in the pit of your belly.

So good, so good, so g –

“Fuck!”

One by one, your muscles tensed in quick succession until your body shook violently in his grip. Toes curling, back arching, head crashing backwards into the pillows, mewling.

When you finally gathered the strength to re-open your bleary eyes, there were spots dotting the edges of your vision – and then there was Namjoon, fuck-drunk between your weakened knees, with a mixture of his saliva and your orgasm shining on his chin.

Lustful eyes locked squarely on your flushed face; his tongue slid from between his swollen lips to attend to the mess you’d made of him. His panting rivaled yours, but unlike you, he was still capable of speech.

“I will never – ever – get tired of watching you come,” he sighed before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

As he climbed back on top of you, he placed a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead. “So vulnerable –” Then the tip of your nose. “So vocal –” Then, too briefly, your lips. “Perfect.”

“Joon,” You murmured against his lips. His mouth curved into a smile at the nickname, which you used almost exclusively to win arguments, or to persuade him to do something. It worked every time.

He nudged your nose with the tip of his as he tried to conceal his laugh. “Baby?”

The fond look in his eyes was quickly covered by fluttering eyelids as your fingertips whispered down over his chest. They snapped open and bored into you as your fingers slid over the waistband of his joggers, tracing a feather-light trail over the bulge below. You felt his cock twitch autonomously against the warmth of your palm.

“Shit,” He hissed through gritted teeth as you squeezed him. Eyes drifting shut once again; he rolled his hips to exacerbate the friction. His neck tensed, head thrown back, when you finally dipped under the elastic and took him into your hand. Skin to skin, burning up.

The next moan from his fawning mouth was something you hadn’t heard in his voice for months – your name. “I need you. Now.”

In the few moments he pulled away to remove his pants, a chill crept in and settled where the weight of his body had just been.

There it is again, you thought, the feeling of having him and losing him.

When this night was over and he was gone from you, would he stay that way? Should you have gone this far, knowing nothing would be different in the daylight?

You were blinking fast when he reclaimed the space above you. Something flickered in his eye as he assessed the look on your face, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you so gently that you could’ve imagined it – but so completely that your brain could never have fabricated it. Not successfully, anyway.

You’d already tried.

Breaking apart once more, he reached down and stroked himself slowly. His eyes never left yours. You both held your breath as he slid into you, millimeter by millimeter, reminding your body – after all this time – how to take him. All of him, to the hilt, until you could finally exhale.

Stretched to accommodate his width, so fucking full, you saw a way out of the nothing that had you trapped like quicksand. It was him, always. Your safe haven.

Neither of you could speak once he began rolling his hips against you. The quiet was electrified by heavy breaths and whimpers. The wet heat of your cunt squelched as your walls enveloped him, just as unwilling to let him go as the rest of you.

Over and over, he grinded into you, dragging his length across your most sensitive places; hips swiveling slightly to the side as he pushed and pulled himself through you, the way he knew you liked it.

Open mouth beside his ear, you keened and sighed, wordlessly informing him that you wouldn’t last much longer. He was perfectly attuned to your subconscious movements, and he responded to each of them without hesitation.

He’d never need to be reminded that the fingernails digging into his biceps meant faster, and the upward tilt of your jaw meant deeper. That when your eyebrows rose above your closed lids, you were seconds away from your release.

He remembered exactly how to fuck you through your orgasm when it came – shallow, staccato thrusts that unraveled you further as you writhed against the sheets. The spot on your neck to nip at like some secret switch, praise dripping hot in your ear like honey.

“Such a good girl, squeezing me like this,” He panted, “Taking me so well – so fucking perfect for me, angel.”

As soon as you crashed down through the atmosphere, his movements threatened to ricochet you right back into space. You keened helplessly with your half-numbed fingers gripping any part of him where they could find purchase.

“I c-can't stop -” You mewled, “How am I s-still c-coming?”

His response didn’t come in the form of words. His lips collided with yours hard enough to clink teeth as he drove himself deeper and deeper and deeper. Sloppy, kiss-bitten lips laying claim; relentless in their mutual need for closeness. Your walls were still fluttering around him – was this your second orgasm or your third? - when he moaned into your mouth.

Every part of him tensed above, around, and inside you as the flood of his release filled every crevice of your cunt.

Breathing ragged, his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. Considerate as ever, he tried so hard to keep his full weight off you, but his exhaustion undermined his efforts. You didn’t mind at all – you’d re-build your home there, staying forever between his body and that borrowed bed if you could.

But you couldn’t, could you? If you felt empty before, how could you feel whole again after this? His name etched itself into your ribcage, and now your body would never re-acclimate to his absence.

Why did you do this to yourself?

You squeezed your eyes shut tight when you felt tears prickling in their corners.

Everything you felt for him – over the course of two years – came crashing down over you. You buried your face into his shoulder and tried your best to keep your crying to yourself.

You’d never get his scent off your body now.

He could sense your shaking; it forced his heavy lids open.

“I don’t know what to do with it,” you sniffled, silently begging yourself to stop. You felt yourself shrinking under his eye. It would only be a matter of time before you disappeared entirely.

His tone dripped with concern, serving only to deepen that infernal ache in the pit of your stomach. “With what?”

“All the love I have for you. I don’t –” You sobbed, “I don’t know where to put it now.”

His breath caught in his throat as if you’d punched him straight in the chest. If you listened hard enough, you might’ve heard his heart break. You could certainly feel it in the way he tensed in your arms.

When he moved off you, you feared the worst – that your incessant crying overflowed the bathtub, and your admission was the toaster thrown recklessly inside. But unlike the last time, he didn’t leave - and neither did you.

The mattress shifted as he claimed the space at your side - where he should have been all this time. Strong arms enveloped you as he turned to face you, and even though he held you, he couldn’t stop you from shattering.

For a while, he let you. Squeezed you hard, stroked your hair the way he used to, let you cry out all the poison that filled the spaces in the cavern of your chest.

And when you could finally breathe again, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll trade you for it.”

(1/8/23): Check out the sequel, Redamancy, here.

2K notes · View notes

patrophthia · 1 year

Text

willow | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff fluff flufff, just people being happy and shit, so fluffy i feel like poop for writing it while im single (when is it my turn to be happy) not beta read

word count: 3.8K

originally posted on my wattpad

— from bee: this takes place in sycamore girl timeline!

"i'm not giving it to you, of course," she remarked, voice straining. "i'm only lending it to you."

"i know," he said all too quickly, making her normally extroverted demeanor (when it came to him, at least) falter. "i promise i won't steal it."

she laughed awkwardly, trying to ease any tension off of her shoulder. "you better not, i've only got one copy of it."

"then i'll buy you a million more." he promised, then smiled, adding, "if i happen to lose it, of course."

regulus didn't think to lift his head up when someone sat down besides him. the class was about to start, there was only a limited amount of seats so, really, he couldn't have cared less about whoever decided to sit to his right. he had more important things on his hand —like whether the characters in the book he was reading will end up with one another or continue to beat around the bush.

as he was about to reach the good part, the professor clapped his hands, starting the class. regulus shut his book, intending to put it into his bag when he looked to the side. there she sat, talking to her friend who was on the other side of her as she pulled out her quill and ink.

class began, neither of them starting conversation since it wasn't needed. every once in a while she would mutter something low under her breath, her eyes narrowing on the blackboard before she turned to him and cleared her throat, asking if the words on the board was what she thought it was and he would help before they went back to what they were doing.

"hey, is canada real?"

regulus turned to her with an incredulous look, brows knitted together trying to gauge whether she was joking or not. finally, he answered. "no."

"thanks," she replied with a smile, and turned back to what she had been doing.

the professor then began droning on about the lesson —one that regulus knew through and through, solely because, the book he was reading (a romance though he would never say it out loud) was a modern retelling of the event they were learning. he shut his notebook, pulling out the novel he was reading previously and continued where he left off.

it wasn't long before she finished as well, shutting her book and trying to tune into the lesson but only to feel as though she was being lull to sleep. to her left was regulus black, sitting handsomely as he always did with a hard cover novel (the dust jacket of it removed) in his elegantly pale hands.

the spine didn't hide the title of the novel though. false god, it read. she smiled knowingly at this. the book was about two sorcerers playing lovers when they despised one another, an enemies to lovers romance.

"heaven is when you touch me and hell is when i fight with you," i confessed, staring into her dark brown eyes. "but i can't help but feel as if we're being led by blind faith."

salazar, this novel is sickeningly sweet.

"i know that look."

regulus brows tightened slightly, tuning into her voice besides him and yet, not giving her his full attention.

"they confessed to her, didn't they?"

the slytherin looked over his book, peeking at her to find her smiling at him. clearing his throat, regulus asked, "you've read this?"

"yup," she said quietly, not wanting to be caught by the professor. "it's written by one of my favorite authors so i kind of had to."

regulus tilted his head slightly. "how'd you know what part i was at?"

"i had that same look on my face when i read it."

had she been watching him read? "oh." he let out, there was a pause before he spoke up again. "did they ever end up together?"

"if i told you that, i'd be spoiling you." she pulled out a piece of paper from her book and began drawing out lines before turning them into small boxes, pushing the parchment to the middle of the table, she looked up at him with a sheepish smile. "how about a game of tic tac toe instead?"

somewhere along the lines of tic tac toes and [name] ranting about the recent novels she'd read before lending it to him, regulus became quite fond of her. he had found himself —more often then not— missing her presence when he was with any of his other 'friends.'

it also didn't help that whenever she flirted with him —something he knew she did because, she liked seeing him get flustered after she said something mildly suggestive to him. he had always thought she was pretty ever since he'd first met her in first year (it was hard not to notice someone when you shared classes with them) but it had never been something that stuck as prominently in his mind as it did now.

the news of one of the black brother being engaged spread like wild fire at hogwarts, everyone —and he meant everyone— began bothering him non-stop. wanting to know if they could get an invite to the wedding (the answer to which he always said no to.)

today had been no different, every single person he'd encountered had asked for an invitation. he was tired of it and if anything he longed for the next class he had. the one he had with her. the one where she sat next to him and talked to him about anything but the lesson or the dreaded wedding.

she got to class five minutes later than him like she always did and smiled the second she spotted him, there was a skip in her step as she made her way over. "i just found the best novel ever."

regulus lifted an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curving upwards, giving her his full attention.

"right so the novel is called seven, it's written by the same author who wrote false god," she started, eyes drifting towards the door once a while to make sure that the professor wasn't there. "it's about two childhood friends who was separated when they were seven due to family issues from the guys' part. it's so beautiful, regulus. you'll love it."

regulus. they way it sounded so soft coming from her lips had him feeling things he'd never felt before. he would never tire hearing her say his name.

there was a content look on his face, listening and listening as she brought the fore mentioned novel from her bag and handed it to him. "i even annotated it for you. the pink are for the lines that i loved and the green is for the lines i think you'd love 'cause you're a slytherin and all."

he took it in his hand, eyeing it carefully. he flipped the cover over, seeing her hand writings scattered all around it —some of it being her gushing over the characters. he looked back to her, grey eyes going blue with affection.

"i'm not giving it to you, of course," she remarked, voice straining. "i'm only lending it to you."

"i know," he said all too quickly, making her normally extroverted demeanor (when it came to him, at least) falter. "i promise i won't steal it."

she laughed awkwardly, trying to ease any tension off of her shoulder. "you better not, i've only got one copy of it."

"then i'll buy you a million more." he promised, then smiled, adding, "if i happen to lose it, of course."

" 'course."

as he turned to his side, planning on placing the novel into his bag so he wouldn't misplace it. she called out. "hey reg."

reg. regulus noted. that was a new one. he liked it, he really did like it. he let out a hum of indifferent acknowledgment, not yet facing her as he tried not to show just how much the nickname had effected him.

"would you like to go out this weekend?" there was short second of silence, it wasn't long until she picked up once more. "like on a date?"

before he could even stop himself, he blurted out. "i have plans tomorrow."

"oh."

regulus couldn't help but feel like he was being stabbed in the chest by how deflated she sound. he didn't spare a second when he turned to face her, not wanting to drown in his own guilt. "but yes."

"yes?" she repeated unsurely.

"yes," he concurred. "i'd love to go out with you —on a date. what seems to be the problem is that i have plans to meet up with dear brother's and his fiancée, and i don't want you to spend your weekend waiting for me—"

"reg, i'm perfectly fine with waiting." she cut him off. "although, you nearly made me cry with your 'i have plans tomorrow' i thought you were rejecting me."

"i would never reject you." how could he? not when he had been waiting for something between them to happen for the longest time.

•••

sirius and his fiancée bid their goodbyes with knowing smile, leaving him be as [name] made her way over to him. the booth was pretty much empty with him being the only one sat there, cheeks tinted pink as he waited for her to be seated down.

she took the one opposing him, smiling at him prettily. "you look nice."

"i look nothing compared to you," he countered almost shyly. and then, clearing his throat, regulus asked her, "where'd you want to go?"

"i was going to ask you that," she replied, feeling small under his gaze. "should we just walk around until we figure out what we want to do?"

regulus smiled at that. and with a nod of his head; he stood up, standing awkwardly besides their table. she stood up as well and as they made their way out, she stopped, buying two bottles of butter-beer for them to enjoy whilst they made their way to the next location.

hogsmeade wasn't as pack as he had expected it to be. sure, they were hundreds of teenagers around his age walking around with thick scarves signifying their houses colors walking around but, —unlike every other time he'd been to hogsmeade during the weekends— he could still see the road before him rather than it being a field of hair.

he turned to the side, intending to look at her only to find her already watching him. "where do we go from here? left or right?"

regulus thought about it for a second. no matter where they went, he'd still be happy, he was with her and that would be good enough for him.

"your choice."

the date went as well as he could've imagined it to. regulus followed after everywhere she strayed, smiling and giggling brightly at whatever caught her attention. and by the end of the night, regulus had walked her back to her common room and (with all his inner gryffindor courage) kissed her good night.

he'd turned his back at the speed of light right after, hiding just how truly giddy and flustered he'd felt. fuck. regulus black might be in love.

•••

march rolled around, along with it came both remus lupin and james potter's birthday. both of which, the marauders had threw parties for and both of which, regulus had been invited to.

lupin's party was fun; regulus had enjoyed it to bits, it was a small party with those only in the marauder's close circle invited to. potter's party was the exact opposite, loud music and booze could be seen every he turned.

regulus had been waiting for his girlfriend when he spotted sirius' fiancée and her friends come in. he'd join in on their teasing about sirius' (not) crush on his fiancée and quickly caught onto how his dear brother's attitude change when he found out that she was a light weight.

"don't worry darling, i know how to have fun without getting drunk." whipped.

it was clear that sirius was staying sober for his fiancée (that he definitely didn't have romantic feelings for) if it wasn't clear by how he had kept his eyes on her the entire night, then it was extremely clear when james —the reason he'd said he'd stay sober for, asked for his help and all he did was tell him to sod off and went to her aid.

the man was in love and he didn't even know it.

when [name], regulus' favorite person, arrived, he'd had to tear his eyes away from her just so he could converse with other people at the party. she looked so beautiful and he was so, so, so lucky to have her be his girlfriend.

"what are you looking at?"

"you," he answered slyly. did someone spike the punch? why is his words flowing out so easily? what is this. "you're the prettiest girl, i've ever seen."

there was a look on her face, somewhere between shying off and laughing at his words. he'd always said nice things to her, things that made her weak in the knees and completely drunk off of him.

but something, something about him being slightly intoxicated and gushing about how gorgeous he thought she was, made her feel dizzy (all in the good way, of course).

"my love," regulus called out after a moment, grabbing her attention. "would you come to my brother's wedding?"

"as your date?"

"of course, as my date. as if i'll ever let you out of my sight," he replied, words slurring the tiniest bit.

she cracked out a winsome smile, nodding. "of course, i will."

•••

the wedding day came soon enough and sirius made it clear, very clear, so clear that if anyone dared to go against his wishes he would personally hunt them down himself. that everyone he cared for —including regulus himself— would have to get ready at the potter's house because, it is where he'd be and he would need the emotional support to go through this.

the women took over a side of the house, getting all dolled up with the help of one another while the men made snacks and gave sirius pep talks. regulus was sat next to lupin, both chewing on the snacks that potter had prepared and listened to sirius bugger longbottom with as many questions as he could.

longbottom always answered, being the only married man in the friend group made him the most suitable source for answers to sirius' inquiries.

"but isn't scary?" sirius questioned, brows knitting together as james fixed up his bow tie. "sharing everything with one another."

"not really," longbottom answered carefully. "it's scary at first, yes, but after a while it's a very comforting thing. knowing that you can share your inner thoughts with your lover and not be judged."

"but she's not my lover." sirius frowned. "we're just friends."

"then it makes no difference," longbottom said with a small smile. "i was friends with alice before we were a couple —not that i'm trying to force anything between you two of course. what i'm trying to say is, if james is a friend to you and you could share anything with him then you can definitely share everything with her."

"you're not getting cold feet are you?" regulus asked, his tone slightly teasing.

sirius turned to him, his face unreadable. "of course, not. i could never do that to her, not when she's been nothing but lovely about all this."

"not when you think she's so pretty," lupin chirped in lazily.

"that's because, she is."

"sure, she is," remus murmured, making sirius turned to him sharply. remus clicked his tongue, the corner of his lips edging upward. "i never said she wasn't."

"you didn't, but your tone was patronizing." sirius smacked potter's hands away, making him scowl as he backed away. "and quite frankly, i don't appreciate my wife being spoken about in that tone of voice."

"my wife." potter repeated loudly. "are you sure you're not in love with her?"

"what makes you think otherwise?"

"i dunno," potter said stupidly, "maybe because of the way you talk about her."

"or the way you look at her," lupin added. "we could go on for days, mate."

"do you lots hate me or something?" sirius grumbled. "you're always teaming up against me, is it funny to you?"

"it is." came a more feminine voice. the men turn, all finding their dates (except sirius) standing by the door way. "it's the most comical thing ever to hear you deny your love for your fiancée."

"i hate you guys," sirius grumbled. lily and sirius continued on with their banter, but regulus was no longer listening, finding himself too awestruck at the sight of his girlfriend.

she stood besides mckinnon, donning the prettiest he'd ever seen. she smiled upon feeling his gaze on her, an action that made regulus want to do nothing but kiss her until she was breathless. instead, he stood up from his spot and made his way over to her.

"you look handsome," she commented once they stood toe to toe. of course, he did (not that he was trying to be conceited). he made sure he looked as best as he could if he would be having someone as beautiful as her in his arms.

"thank you," regulus said softly, eyes kept on her as he spoke. no words will be able to explain just how divine she looked. and so, regulus chalked it up to a simple compliment. "you look lovely."

"i try to, for you."

bullshit. even if she wasn't trying —and he knew this for certain from all the previous time he'd spent with her; bundled up in her dorm with bags under their eyes as they hovered over her desk and conversed about their projects, heads on the pillow once they wrapped up, looking as though they were on their dying breath— she'd still look lovely.

•••

the start of regulus' seventh years went as well as he hoped. sure, he was drowning in assignments during the first week of classes but he had a girlfriend. and that makes up about seventy percent of it.

he'd grown accustomed to having meals with her by his side so it was no surprise when he was the first thing she found when she made her way into the great hall with a letter in hand.

"guess what," she started up excitedly, taking the seat opposing his. regulus supplied her with a what? encouraging her on. "i got an owl last night."

"who's it from?"

"just your sister in law," she said as casually as she could but the enthusiasm was not lost in her voice. "would you like to know why?"

"yes." he humored her, filling her goblet up with water. "i would like to know why, please."

"well." she placed the opened up the letter and placed it down. "sirius confessed in an overly dramatic way about whether she loved you more than she loved him, long story short they ended kissing. moral of the story, our favorite couple is no longer getting a divorce."

"i could write a romance book about that."

"please don't," regulus murmured, reading the letter for himself. sure enough, there —written in ink— was the details of the said confession and how they would not be going through with their divorce as they try to navigate their new relationship. "oh no."

"oh no?" she repeated, tone drastically different from his.

"oh no," he said once more, as if agreeing to something. "sirius talked about adopting me, if they stayed married that might just happen."

"that's stupid, regulus. she would never agree to that."

"you underestimate just how persuasive sirius can be, my love." he took a sip from his mug, his tea now cold. "he managed to convince her into marrying someone as horrid as him, adoption won't be as hard."

"you say that like he's the worst man to ever exist." he gave her look. one that was practically asking her if she was testing him. "besides, she married him for the money. she won't get anything out of adopting you."

"yes, she would."

"and what would that be?" she asked, mildly uninterested.

"me."

"and that's a good thing?"

regulus mouth dropped into a small O. the black had always had a flair for the dramatics and he was no exception. "yes," he said with full offense. "how could you ever think otherwise. i'm your boyfriend."

"i just—" she shrugged. "—you're not all that."

regulus was gasping now, eyes full with hurt. "i don't think i want to be with you anymore."

"is that so?"

"no." he denied with annoyance.

the grandfather clock rang, signaling the start off class and the pair stood up. regulus standing besides her as he waited for her to pack up her stuff.

the couple shared their first class, so it was obvious for them to walk with one another. once arriving, regulus headed towards the middle table; not too far away and not too close to the professor. he sat first, tapping the empty seat that was by his side for her to take.

she took it, smiling when her friends took to the table in front of them and began conversations with one another. class soon began, the professor droning on about the lessons when regulus found himself in a position he'd never been in before.

her hand was dropped to the side and he'd never wanted to hold something as much as he did now. he was practically begging for her to take his hand but he was too prideful to admit it.

"it's rude to stare," she said quietly, and regulus was distinctly reminded of their first encounter. same classroom, same seats. how history repeats itself never fails to amaze him. "even if you're staring at their hand."

he teared his eyes away, playing oblivious. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"right," she murmured as if she believed him. "did you want to hold my hand?"

"yes."

she took his hand at his answer, intertwining their fingers and placing it comfortably on her thigh before she turned back to the lesson.

time will age as will the both of them, and despite how greedy and selfish it may sound. regulus hoped it would never remove the memory of her smile when he'd first saw her.

life was a willow and it bent right through her wind.

#regulus x yn #regulus x you #regulus x reader #regulus black humor #regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x yn #marauders era x reader #🧳: my writing

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r0ttenhearts · 11 months

Text

Last Night Together

angst, no comfort, insults.

his breath tickled your ear as his weight shifted onto your back, soft mumbled insults in your ear as he watched you play your game. surprisingly, they weren’t directed to you.

“can’t believe you hangout with this guy.. he sucks! childe isn’t good at anything.”

you giggled at the feeling of his lips by your nape as he groaned, more insults spilling from his lips.

“well he’s my best friend it’s not like i owe him anything for me to hangout with him.”

you could feel scaramouche stiffen from behind you as you said that. his snarky attitude now gone as his tone went serious.

his pale, slender fingers wrapped around your wrist as it stopped you from playing your game.

“so that means you don’t need me, right? i can leave? just say the word and i’m out of your life.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, his words making your blood boil. you scoffed, your fingers tightening around your mouse as you attempted to shoot your gun, hearing childe give you call outs as you tried to ignore scarmouche’s annoyingly repetitive words.

scaramouche grit his teeth, spinning your chair around so you were forced to face him. his cold hands gripped your chin as he forced your headset off of your head. childe’s barely audible voice in the background as he yelled your name for your forced afk.

“that’s not true. you’re still my favorite person scara, you know that.”

“liar. i’m not going to bullshit with you anymore y/n. it’s not that i think both you and childe should just kill yourselves.

it’s that i think you’re both so fucking disgusting, like— you gross me out to be around you and even associate myself with you.”

the gentle glow of your monitor made scara look almost ghostly as he rolled your chair over the carpeted floor of your bedroom closer to him. his face was practically inches away. if you weren’t in this position you might have even felt embarrassed to be so close to this toxic boy you have a crush on.

“you don’t though.. it’s not like i openly talk about you anymore either.”

“good, keep it that way. the way you people act is so discomforting to me. worse than a stomach ache or even a migraine.”

scaramouches grip doesn’t falter on your face as he huffs in frustration, his long bangs covering his eyes for a moment.

“i just cannot with you—“

“it’s not like we—“

scaramouches eyes widened as his nails dragged down your skin and you could’ve sworn he’d drawn blood from how harshly his nails were scratching at your skin.

“shut it. i need you to understand just how much i don’t fuck with you. i need to openly express how much you disgust me.

you’re decent 25% of the time, but fuck y/n.

it’s insane to me, if i do something that displeases or bothers you, you get so fucking bitchy.”

he looks to the side, biting his lip before inching closer to your face. your noses were practically touching.

“then isn’t it better that i’ve stayed away the way that i have lately?” you whispered. you could feel your body shaking as fear set in. you knew what was coming. and it was long overdue.

“i genuinely do not care what you have to say in this moment. talking to you feels like a chore more than anything, i always have to come here at night or you’re a total bitch to me in the morning.

do you think i enjoy doing this? when you mean so little to me?

i hate having to watch what i do or say around people. like fuck, solve your own problems don’t bother me about them.”

“i don’t care about you as much as i used to scara, it’s fine, really. i won’t get mad at you.”

“oh so, if i told you i’ve had a girlfriend for the past month you wouldn’t get bothered? not one bit?”

your eyes widened as your heart dropped into your stomach. it all made sense now. his distance, spaced out texts and even more spaced out visits over the past few weeks. he wasn’t busy. he was just giving someone else the attention that you tried so hard to get.

and that hurt.

you bit your tongue, a sad smile on your face. “i wouldn’t. it’s not my business so why would i care.” you lied. it felt thick and bitter as it left your mouth. words you knew were nothing father from the truth.

“you chased me away from your own weird ass actions, y/n. pushed me into her arms.

i hate dumb fuckasses like you.

do you not get it?

you keeping up with your little autism caused the very thing you didn’t want. all you had to do was not be weird. you understand that? no, what the fuck am i saying? of course you don’t.”

fat tears rolled down your cheeks as he let go of your chin, his hands on your shoulders as he shook you with every word. a sick smile on his face as he watched your tears fall. “it’s not like i could’ve lived up to what you wanted in me..” you whispered, your voice cracking as a soft sob escaped your mouth.

“i’ve never met a more naive person. you can’t and refuse to listen to me. you preach about how you follow me around but you can’t listen. yeah, no, just do your own shit.

the dick sucking you to do me is just crazy. the glazing is immeasurable.”

he laughs in your face as he shoves you against your chair, knocking you back into your desk as your monitor and keyboard jump from the impact.

“i hate you so much but i hate being a dickhead to people. you’ve got me hung by a thread of empathy. not even pity, just empathy. it’s the only reason why i’m still around.” he spat, enjoying the way your face crumpled with every word.

he ripped his necklace off, a necklace that connected to yours that you gifted him on your third anniversary of becoming friends. he throws it into your lap as he gets next to your ear, your tear stained face amusing him.

“don’t expect me to come here again.”

he leaves your room with a slam of your door as you sit there, your chest clenching in pain at the sight of him gone. there you were, alone again.

“i shouldn’t have gotten close to you. we should’ve never met.”

a/n: based on last nights argument with my “scara.” :’)

maybe his words will feel the same as they felt to me in that moment

another comfort post, thanks for reading my lovely readers <3

#genshin angst #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara x y/n #scara x you #scara angst

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thefallennightmare · 6 months

Text

Miracle-twenty two

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: The moment you've all been waiting for. I know I teased masked sex in this one BUT it's going to have to wait for the next chapter. TWO CHAPTERS LEFT; I REPEAT TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie @cupidsdreams

"Noah, I swear to the gods, put me down," I giggled while smacking his back.

He ignored my protest and pathetic attempt to break free from his hold as he opened the door to his room, kicking it closed behind him. My upside down view was of his round ass, which I tried hard not to take a bite out off, so I wasn't able to see what was scattered around the room and bed until Noah gently let me fall to my feet.

I brushed my hair out of my face while narrowing my eyes at him. "You can't manhandle me to get what you want, you know."

He scoffed while raising a brow. "Says the girl that just jerked me off in front of the guys."

I pursed my lips, a red hue covering my cheeks, and when I went to retort back with a witty comeback, I noticed the scene in front of me.

Behind Noah, who was smirking like an idiot, were a couple bouquets of flowers; one on his dresser, one on the table next to his bed, and one on his desk next to his computer. All black dahlia's, my favorite.

"Davis told me that back in high school you used to be obsessed with black dahlia's," Noah said as he watched me fiddle with one between my fingers.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes but I refused to let them slip.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "After the murder; call me grotesque but I'm a huge true crime nerd."

Noah smiled warmly at me when I gazed over to him. "When did you do all this? We've been together all night.

"I set it up when you ran to grab the pizza's. Although, I was hoping to have you up here a lot sooner. The playlist I made is almost over."

"Playlist?" I questioned, now hearing the soft tune of music play from his computer.

Bending over the desk, I scrolled through the entire Spotify playlist he created and titled it Angel. It had all of my favorite songs and of course, some Bad Omens songs. Between the flowers and playlist, my heart was swooning with such an intense feeling that I had to grip the chair in front of me to steady myself. Why did I feel like this? Why was this unknown feeling so intense that I couldn't breathe?

Love, you idiot. You fucking love Noah Sebastian.

I almost stumbled on my feet when the realization slammed through me like a fucking truck. There always was this sensation that lurked at the depths of my heart and soul that knew I loved Noah. With everything that's happened the last few weeks, however, clouded over those sensations until recently. The more time I spent with now, the intense those sensations vibrated throughout my veins.

"You didn't have to do all this, Noah," my bottom lip trembled.

He cupped my cheek, thumb grazing over the trembling lip. "Yes, I did. You've been going through so much lately and while I don't know what's going on in your mind exactly."

Noah's fingers tapped against my forehead causing me to let out a small laugh.

"I do know that you needed something to lift your spirits," he finished then motioned to the bed behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, a gasp fell from my lips when I saw a small velvet box on the bed, next to a piece of paper that folded perfectly in half. Noah quickly hushed my panic with a kiss to the side of my head when he noticed my shoulders went stiff.

"It's not a ring, don't worry," he muttered.

Good.

Because I only realized I loved him, the last thing I needed right now was a proposal. But that didn't mean I was opposed to it down the road.

With shaky hands, I opted in picking up the piece of paper first and seeing what it was made my stomach flip repeatedly.

"A plane ticket?" I peered up at Noah.

"You're coming with to Europe, angel. Wether its to work for Bad Omens or to be with me. I'm not letting you stay back," Noah's tucked a piece of hair behind my ears, fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.

Guilt pulled at my heart. "I think I have no choice but to work for you. I have to save up some money if I want to find a place. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to afford anything over in Europe. Maybe I should stay back and find a job here-."

Noah hushed my ramblings with a fiery kiss, hand burying into my hair while the other grasped at the back of my neck to pull me into his chest. The plane ticket fluttered to the ground as I grabbed a fist full of his shirt and I had to stand on my toes to lean up into the kiss.

"For once, angel. Stop worrying about what you have to do in order to survive. I'm here now, let me help you with things," he muttered against my lips.

"But I-."

Once again, Noah cut off my words with his lips but this kiss wasn't intense as the last one.

"Please let me do this, okay?" He leaned back so he could look into my eyes. "Let me take care of you the way I should have from the start."

The part of me that was used to fighting help or fighting to survive screamed to decline, tell Noah to fuck off and I didn't need his help. But learning to change and heal from the trauma of my past made me eventually nod. I needed to learn to accept help because there were something I couldn't do on my own.

"Okay," I breathed. "But I still think I should start looking for an apartment. It might take a while of me working to save up."

Noah grabbed the other gift and placed it in my hands. "This might help."

I raised a curious brow at him. "What is it?"

"That's the whole concept of a gift. You open it and see," he urged me on with a nod.

I smacked his hand away as he tried to open the box for me and when I saw what was inside; I was even more confused.

"A key?" I wondered while picking it up out of the box. "What's this for?"

Noah rubbed the back of his neck."Uh, shit. I had this whole thing planned in my head but now that you're standing in front of me, I'm nervous."

My heart hammered against my chest as I waited for him to find the words he needed to say, still clutching the key tight in my hand. I knew what he was going to ask and my brain was screaming the answer already before he even asked.

With his hand in mine, the thumb that had the angel wings tattoo rubbing across the back of my hand, Noah locked his eyes with mine.

"Move in with me, angel."

The words stumbled out in one large garbled mess, and Noah cursed. "Fuck, this was a lot easier when I practiced it in my head."

Through my own nerves, I couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he was in this moment. From the second I opened the small box, I knew what he wanted to ask me but I was still very on the fence about it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We're going to be with each other all the time at home and at work? Won't you get sick of me?"

The corner of Noah's lips curled up in a smile. "You said home."

Fuck.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my own smile. "You know what I mean."

He pulled me down to sit on his bed with him and brough my legs into his lap, fingers grazing over the bare skin of my thighs. The small action did so much to calm my racing heart.

"There's no way I could get sick of you. Having you with me when I wake up in the morning or go to sleep at the end of a long day makes whatever issues we may have down the road worth it. It makes sense if you think about it. Why would I have you go find a place of your own when Jolly and I have all this extra space?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, please tell me you talked to Jolly about this? I don't want him to feel left out or what if he thinks we're going to kick him out?"

"Jolly is fine with it," Noah reassured me by pulling out his phone to show me the text thread between him and Jolly.

Of course, he was telling the truth. Jolly even called him out for not asking sooner. But when I watched Noah swipe out of the messages, I got a peak at the background on his phone and my cheeks flushed with a blazing heat. It was a picture of me, one that I posted on my Only Fans; the one of mean in their Bad Omens shirt in the tour bus bathroom.

"Noah Sebastian!" I scolded. "Why the fuck is that your background?!"

I jumped into his lap to snatch the phone from him hoping to change the background. Noah laughed while one hand kept the phone away from quite a distance and his other arm snaked around my back to keep me in place.

"It's fucking hot, angel." Noah shrugged so matter-of-factly.

"What if someone sees it?" I seethed trying to reach for the phone again. "Well, Folio's already seen those but still."

"Don't remind me," Noah grumbled, dropping his phone on his bed.

The grip on me turned possessive and for a moment, I stopped trying to grab his phone and instead, cupped Noah's face.

"You have no reason to be jealous. I deleted the page but we both know those pictures are out there. It was something I knew would happen when I started the page."

"I know," he eventually sighed.

"Why do you even want that picture as your background? You can't see my face," I wondered.

Noah's eyes darkened as he licked his lips. "Maybe you should take another one for me, this time where I can see your gorgeous face."

"Hm," I hummed while brushing my nose across his. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You don't even know."

My squeal of laughter echoed around the room when Noah flipped us on the bed so he was leaning over me, digging his hips into mine. A mixture between a moan and a whine fell from my lips and I grasped at his hips so I could keep him close. He was still wearing his sweats from earlier so I could still feel the hard definition of his hardening cock. With his face buried in the crook of my neck, Noah breathed me in while leaving pepper light kisses everywhere.

"You said home," he repeated his words form earlier.

"Yes," I breathed out a moan when his cock slide over the folds of my pussy.

I was still turned on from our little under the blanket action earlier and with everything he was doing right now; I was minutes away from coming undone.

"So you'll stay?"

Noah pulled away so he could gaze down at me, hair falling into his eyes. I gently brushed it away so I could get a good look of his face to see if he truly meant and understood what he was asking of me. This wasn't something he could take back, or well he could but it would mean the end of our relationship. That wasn't something I wanted.

But through the dark depths of his eyes, I could see that Noah meant every part of his question.

Leaning up so my lips ghosted over his, I smiled. "Only if you change your background."

"It's a fucking deal, angel," Noah said before crashing his lips to mine.

We both moaned into the kiss, starved for the desire that's been clawing at our insides for weeks. It's been an unspoken rule between us that even though we've fooled around, we still haven't had sex yet. Neither of us knew why we were waiting so long to jump over that hurdle but now that the future was bright and clear of any more obstacles, we were ready.

I was ready.

Noah's large hand spread across the skin of my stomach as he slipped it underneath my shirt, fingers pulling at the waistband of my pants, a silent question.

"Please," I begged, raising my hips up to meet his.

He made quick work of shedding me of my pants then my shirt, me now laying underneath him in just a pair of black panties. Sheer darkness filled the whites of his eyes as he cocked his head at me.

"You weren't wearing a bra all night?"

I shrugged innocently. "Oops."

Noah's savageness poured out of him through his kiss as he attacked my lips once more and now it was me who slipped him off his shirt and sweats, the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the hardness of his cock. I ran my palm over it, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel. If you keep that up I'm going to cum in your hand all over again," he groaned while bitting my bottom lip.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip. "Did you just bite me?"

Noah shrugged. "Oops."

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I somehow managed to flip us around so I was now straddling him. It wasn't an easy task since he was much taller than me but we made it work even though we were horizontal on the bed.

"Noah."

His name fell from my lips in a whine full of desperation. He barley touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and I needed this release so fucking bad.

"What do you want from me?" His hand slide up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers pinching and pulling my nipples.

"You. I just want you."

With his free hand, he helped me shimmy out of my panties then I hurriedly slid his briefs down his long legs, eyes lingering on the array of tattoo's. I was kneeling in front of him and leaned towards the rose tattoo on his right kneecap to pepper kisses along it before jumping over to the Japanese style mask on his left leg, purposely avoiding the tattoo of Bryan's face.

"That's so fucking weird."

"Trust me. That's not the weirdest tattoo I have," he chuckled.

My lips parted over the leaking head of Noah's cock, fingers wrapping around the base, and I licked up the bits of pre-cum that seeped through the slit. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips.

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned pleasure, or annoyance that I was taking my time, I wasn't sure. Noah sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, the LED lights behind his bed and around his room bathed him in an orange glow.

"Angel," he warned. "I'm not in the mood for games. Please."

I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

"Fuck yes I am," he sighed.

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again and gently pushed him back onto the bed, the head of his cock sliding along my folds.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Noah guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan from me. Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape and hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from earlier sent me in a spiral of pure desire and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight.

"Are you alright?" I asked when I realized Noah was barley moving.

He nodded, eyes finding mine through the messy strands of hair that covered his face.

"You're just so fucking beautiful, angel. I've wanted this for so long," he admitted and grabbed the back of my neck to yank me down towards him.

He attacked my lips with so my force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "If I go faster, I'll-. It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Noah, please don't think you need to make this last an hour. I'm so fucking close and I can tell you are too. I have an implant so you don't have to worry about anything."

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure bliss.

"I love you."

The aftershocks halted, my body going rigid in Noah's embrace, who didn't bother to stop moving his hips. My heart swelled with so much emotion at hearing those three words and I brushed back the stand of hair from Noah's face, it stuck to the skin with his sweat.

"Wha-what did you say?" I stammered, breathless.

He blinked slow. "I love you, angel. I'm so fucking sorry for everything hurtful thing I've done or said to you but I promise I'll spend forever making it up to you."

"I." Thrust. "Love." Thrust. "You."

A second orgasm tore through my entire being at Noah's proclamation and my head fell into his chest, his cock twitching before he released himself deep within my walls, a low groan rumbling from his throat. We lay there tangled in each other's arms for a long moment to let our breathing calm, along with our hearts. Although, there was no way mine would ever beat normal after hearing Noah loved me.

He loves me.

I peppered kisses all along the tattoo's over his chest as I curled myself underneath his arm, exhaustion digging deep into my bones.

"I love you too, Noah."

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