#in the end notes of chapter 2 I was like ‘next time we go into Shido’s palace and Nothing will go wrong :)’
Text
there's glitter on the floor after the party: the deleted scenes
i'm sure it'll make someone happy because i think we all need it! just as a note, this is all unedited so some of it might make no sense and that's okay.
(i recommend the google doc for easier reading otherwise the whole thing is under the cut)
Chapter one: 2023
I don’t have anything to show…anything I did cut has already been long deleted. My bad. The first two are very sparse because I was cutting unwanted things as my Google docs was lagging whenever I opened it. The only thing I remember writing that chapter was that it was meant to coincide with Daniel’s return to COTA in real life but I ran out of time so I pushed it back to Las Vegas.
Chapter two: 2024
CUT: Daniel winning the championship
WHY: Felt too rushed and easy. No emotional pay off, you were only just introduced to Daniel in RBR again. Also don’t ask me what happened to Max for him to not just clean sweep 2023-2027. Also don’t ask who won the championship in 2026. I declare that your favourite driver won it and I definitely did not forget to give a championship.
DANIEL: Oh my god, it’s just surreal like I don’t know how to describe it. Especially after the past couple years, it’s just—yeah. And to do it with Max too, it’s just something special for me and the team.
MISCELLANEOUS:
73 Questions With Daniel Ricciardo | Vogue
3.3M views 2 days ago …more
Vogue 4M
[00:00:00]
DANIEL: Hello Vogue, didn’t see you there. Welcome to my home away from home.
[00:13:33]
PRODUCER: One sentence you could tell your younger self?
DANIEL: Doors are meant to be opened.
[00:15:09]
PRODUCER: Worst thing about racing in Formula 1?
DANIEL: Accidents, hands down. It’s horrifying as a driver to watch someone crash, because that’s when everything sort of gets a reality check in the cockpit. Like we are racing around at three-hundred kilometres an hour, and there is a real chance that something could go wrong. I’ll never forget Max’s Silverstone accident, just—yeah it just a horrible thing to witness.
—
emotionalsupportredbull
not daniel fidgeting with his necklace when he talks about max’s silverstone crash… you ain’t slick boy
#yes i have deluded myself into thinking it’s from max #i’m already depressed i don’t want to hear it #join team emotional support redbull delusions
348 notes
frenchpine
qu'est-ce que tu sais, espèce de salope française qui aime l'érable et qui parle bizarrement ? sors avec ça (What do you know you maple-loving weird speaking French bitch? Come out with it)
#je ne veux pas te traiter de salope #ou peut-être que c'est le cas (#i don’t mean to call you a bitch #or maybe i do)
392 notes
(i promise i wrote this before he decided to rear end daniel in china. i pinky promise.)
landando
daniel “doors are meant to be opened” ricciardo
#what is my man on #doors are meant to be opened 😭😭 #he didn’t open a door one time and it’s haunted him for life
78 notes
Chapter three: 2025
CUT: Red Bull marketing video
WHY: Chapter was already very long. Also I couldn’t find any good questions.
Daniel and Max play the F1 newlywed game 💒💍
827K views 10 hours ago #Gives you wings #F1 … more
Oracle Red Bull Racing 1.58M
INT. RED BULL RACING HOSPITALITY - DAY
[00:00:00]
MAX: Hello everyone and today we are playing the newlywed game.
DANIEL: Are you excited?
MAX: I mean I have to say yes otherwise I look like I’m in an unhappy marriage.
DANIEL: Wow—
MAX:—Also the name doesn’t even make sense. Newlywed? That isn’t us.
DANIEL: [To off screen] Guys, I would get someone to approve your overtime, we’re gonna be here a while.
[00:02:01]
OFF SCREEN: Who is more likely to overpack for a holiday?
DANIEL: Don’t look at me!
MAX: We have three suitcases.
DANIEL: It takes effort to look this good.
MAX: Three suitcases every single race weekend.
DANIEL: What’s the next question?
CUT: Lucinda’s vaguely threatening email
WHY: Broke the fourth wall. Glitter on the floor is meant to be solely a third POV view and I couldn’t justify it.
CONFIDENTIAL: PRESS STRATEGY REGARDING MAX VERSTAPPEN AND DANIEL RICCIARDO
From: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing
To: maxverstappen@/redbull.racing, danielricciardo@/redbull.racing
CC: christianhorner@/redbull.racing, teamdaniel@/press.redbull.racing, teammax@/press.redbull.racing
Date: 21 Nov 2025 at 3:04am
Hi all,
Please see attachment below for finalised details regarding your press strategy and talking points this weekend. Media have been advised to not ask any questions about the ring and we’d like to keep it that way. Remember to keep it vague if you do get asked, and if you don’t feel comfortable a simple no comment will suffice.
Please email for any further clarification or questions and good luck this weekend. (And please no spur of the moment Las Vegas—Elvis impersonator weddings you two.)
Best regards,
Lucinda Salzar (she/her)
Head of Communications, Red Bull Racing.
E: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing
P: +44 ** **** *****
CUT: The chaotic Abu Dhabi super seat swap
WHY: I had to cut this because I altered the timeline, Las Vegas was going to the second last race. In an earlier version Max and Daniel were gonna come back in 2026 and also drop the Matilda news at the same time but I wanted more content just out of Maxiel so I had to leave this on the cutting board. Some of it made it into the published fic but the original thing was more chaotic. (Also I changed the Red Bull junior driver at least once a week because they kept dropping them. It went from Hauger, to Crawford, to Maloney and then I just gave up because I could not keep up.)
lights-out-away-we-go
red bull needed to replace two drivers and they did in THE MOST CHAOTIC way possible. okay, just listen:
the official red bull reserve driver is liam lawson (of alpha tauri, so he obviously gets pulled up)
alpha tauri then call on zane maloney to replace liam (alpha tauri’s reserve driver)
BUT, daniel’s car still needs to fulfil the mandatory rookie free practice session (max’s was completed in mexico when maloney drove)
red bull can’t get zane in daniel’s car again cause he’s got to drive liam’s… so they’ve got to find someone who has the super licence points … we’ll come back to this
so right now car 3 is being driven by liam lawson, car 40 is driven by zane maloney. i hear you ask… who is driving car 1? it’s none other than yuki tsunoda (of alphatauri)
I KNOW, but red bull have quite literally run out of contracted reserve drivers and i believe because every driver is technically employed by red bull (whether they drive for RB or AT) they’re able to pull them up or down without the FIA kicking up a fuss
i’ll wait for why red bull pulled up both AT’s
this means yuki tsunoda’s alpha tauri will be without a driver and once again, red bull call Pepe Marti
#i don’t even know if this is 100% correct i could be so wrong
13,482 notes
—
SKY F1 SPORTS- 2025 ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX - FREE PRACTICE 1
David CROFT: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our final race of the 2025 season, to our first free practice session under the blistering sun of Abu Dhabi and if this is your first time watching, welcome along cause this will certainly be an interesting race weekend. Now, eagle eyed viewers may have caught that AlphaTauri driver Yuki Tsunoda is in the Red Bull, and his team mate is sitting in the next garage over not in a car. Anthony Davidson is with me—Ant, care to explain to our viewers at home the driver seat swap chaos that’s happening down at Red Bull?
Anthony DAVIDSON: Hello everyone, wherever in the world you may be watching and yes, chaos is the right word for it isn’t it? I’ve got about five pieces of paper and I’m going to do my best to explain, what I think, is the most complicated driver situation in F1 history.
CROFT: Yes, for those who didn’t join us last time out or who may be new to F1, I promise driver seat talk usually isn’t this complicated but we’ll do our best to make sense of it all. Now we’ve got to start at the last race for it all to make sense. Red Bull driver Daniel Ricciardo had a nasty crash with Enzo Fittipaldi of Haas that left him with a concussion and bruised ribs, which is why presumably he isn’t racing today, and we wish him well in his recovery. Red Bull’s other driver Max Verstappen was also not able to race this weekend for an unspecified reason, so Red Bull are left with two empty seats.
DAVIDSON: We know that Red Bull’s official reserve driver is Liam Lawson, so that’s no problem there. He’s driving Daniel’s number 3 car, but here’s where the trouble starts. Car number 3 still needs to complete its mandatory FP1 session, which Zane Maloney was planning to do this session. But you’ll notice that Zane is in Liam’s car right now, the Alpha Tauri—and this is because he’s Alpha Tauri’s reserve driver.
CROFT: Still following everyone? So far, car number 3 is being driven by Liam Lawson, car number 40 is being driven by Zane Maloney. But Liam Lawson isn’t even in car number 3 at the moment, it’s Pepe Marti, who is currently racing in Formula 2 and part of Red Bull’s junior academy. He’s competing the mandatory rookie FP1 session for car number 3.
DAVIDSON: So now we move onto Max Verstappen’s car, which is being driven by the other AlphaTauri driver, Yuki Tsunoda. Which now means AlphaTauri needs a driver to replace him and it’s Red Bull junior driver, Isack Hadjar who is in car number 22.
CROFT: Right, so it’s Yuki Tsunoda and Liam Lawson in Red Bull for the race, Zane Maloney and Isack Hadjar in the AlphaTauri’s and Pepe Marti in Liam or Daniel’s Red Bull for FP1. Confused? Don’t worry, so are we so bare with us if we accidentally get names and teams wrong because I believe this is possibly the biggest driver change in F1 history.
DAVIDSON: Yes and because I know people will be asking, “Why didn’t Red Bull just put Maloney in Daniel’s car for the whole weekend?” and we have an answer and officially, it’s because of contracts. Whatever behind the scenes isn’t allowing him to drive that Red Bull which is why they called up Yuki instead. Maloney has also said he feels more confident driving the AlphaTauri all weekend rather than the Red Bull, so that also may play a factor in this.
CROFT: But also this is a perfect opportunity for Red Bull to compare both drivers, should the opportunity for one of them to make the move into Red Bull when the time arises.
Chapter four: 2026
CUT: Netflix Drive to Survive script
WHY: Once again, I was lazy and didn’t want to write a script. I kinda wish I did though, I think it would’ve given Las Vegas 2025 more substance, especially because you only see it through a fan perspective whereas DTS allows you to get the driver’s perspective, but I do plan to finish this off…. eventually….
Netflix- Drive to Survive
Season 9, Episode 3 “Redemption”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix is back in town but it’s not all good fortunes for those driving. The biggest paddock secret is unveiled.
—
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
We see scrambled eggs on a frying pan.
OFF SCREEN: Daniel? Where is my jumper? The blue one?
The camera zooms out from the eggs to see Daniel, wearing a light blue jumper, grimacing at the camera.
DANIEL: (Under his breath) To be fair it was my jumper first.
The camera swings to Max in the doorway, arms crossed as he narrows his eyes at Daniel.
MAX: I heard that.
(In the garage, during the crash.)
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: Has anyone told Max?
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #2: We’re not telling him.
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #3: Seriously?
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: He thinks his husband is dead, we’re telling him!
INT. HOTEL ROOM
PRODUCER: Do you have some fears about allowing the world to know about your relationship?
DANIEL: God, of course I have. We both have. But we spent so long being—not scared, but worried let’s say about the consequences of us just being together. But then Las Vegas happened and all I wanted was Max to sit by my bedside and make a stupid joke about me being in hospital again. And it was when Christian literally had to fight multiple people to get Max into that hospital I realised that what we were doing was unsustainable.
PRODUCER: Unsustainable?
DANIEL: Are you married?
PRODUCER: Yes?
DANIEL: Have you ever watched your partner crash into something at three hundred kilometres an hour and no one telling you if they were even alive? Because I’ve done that. We’ve done that. Multiple times.
Montage of different Max & Daniel accidents.
DANIEL: And then you have to go on with your day, going to debrief, doing press but all you really want to do is go to them and make sure that they’re even alive?
PRODUCER: …
DANIEL: So yeah. Unsustainable.
—
333 update account @/official333
📺 | Drive to Survive (Netflix)
Daniel talking about his relationship with Max on and off the track:
Q: Do you think it’s been challenging to balance out the relationship given your unique relationship with Max?
Daniel: No, and I think people over dramatise the complexity of it all. I mean sure, it has been somewhat difficult, especially at the beginning but in the end it is just racing, you know? We’re both aware that we are something different from the other drivers, but I like that. Not many people get to do what they love with their partner right next to them, so I definitely take every race we do together for granted.
476 replies 88 reposts 8,372 likes
CUT: Alternate ‘M’ reveal
WHY: I genuinely spent like half an hour thinking if fictional Max and Daniel would show Matilda, I had earlier drafts where they hide her face until I was like okay, this is fictional. Bad things do not exist in this universe, so it’s fine. Plus, Matilda is so cute I can’t hide her.
[Video: Daniel, standing in front of a door.
DANIEL: I know a lot of you guys might have noticed that I’ve been dropping clues towards who this mysterious M is and it’s finally time to reveal who it is.
He opens the door and pans the camera to Max.
DANIEL: M stands for Max. Sorry to break the news, it’s not that exciting. Wait, who’s that?
The camera pans further down to show Max holding a baby, she’s sleeping soundly in Max’s arm.
Photo: A baby. She’s wearing a light blue onesie, and her hand is wrapped around a mini honey badger soft toy.]
Liked by lucsalzar and others
danielricciardo Everybody meet Matilda. Matilda, this is everybody.
View all 5,638 comments
georgerussell63 They learnt what hard launching is and said we’re going to do it for everything… Congrats 🙌
landonorris be prepared for the onslaught of driver themed onesies coming your way…
1 March
CUT: The half-completed TIME article about Daniel
WHY: I did not have it in me to write another 1000 word article. I spent around a week just writing Daniel’s The Players’ Tribune article. But what I did write, I did like. Was also around the time TIME named Taylor Swift as their person of the year, so that’s where I got that inspiration.
How 2025 was the year of the Honey Badger—Daniel Ricciardo on winning his first Formula 1 Championship during a historic year.
by Tylda Rune-Liberi for TIME
February 15, 2026 9:33AM EST
It’s 2017 and F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo was asked in a press conference what race he would like the new owners of F1 to host. His answer? Las Vegas. In 2023, five years on, his wish was granted. Two years later, in 2025, the race he had proclaimed as a dream race would turn into stuff of nightmares.
Leading the race and looking like he would take a first win at Las Vegas after a podium in 2023, it looked like everything was going Ricciardo’s way until a bizarre accident with Kick Stake Sauber’s Theo Pourchaire causes a major accident, leaving Ricciardo wedged in the cockpit for over half an hour.
Pourchaire had given way to Ricciardo as he was being lapped, before attempting to unlap himself, choosing the wrong moment as Ricciardo was heading into the pitlane. Radios released after the accident have Pourchaire admit he “didn’t think he was going into the pit lane.”
It’s a horrifying crash to watch—even with the knowledge that both drivers would be okay, and it would soon be clear that no one felt it more in the pitlane than Ricciardo’s own teammate: Max Verstappen.
Formula 1 drivers all drive with the knowledge that a crash could happen at any given moment, but this accident was different.
[Photo: Daniel, in a dark navy denim blue overshirt and jeans.]
Ricciardo and Verstappen have had a long and varied partnership throughout their career, first starting in 2016 where Verstappen was brought up mid season from then-Red Bull junior team Toro Rosso (now Visa Cash App RB), winning his debut race with the team, where it looked like the win would go to Ricciardo instead. They would go on to be teammates for another two seasons, before Ricciardo announced a shocking move to Renault (now Alpine).
One thing that stood out about their initial partnership was how their off track friendship never seemed to waver, even in their most turbulent of times (see Hungary 2017 or Azerbaijan 2018). In an era where friendships between teammates seemed to famously end in failure, in the likes of fan dubbed ‘Brocedes’ (Nico Rosberg & Lewis Hamilton; best friends growing up who’s friendship ended in rivalry fighting for a championship) or former Red Bull teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber (Multi-21 Seb?), it was an outlier that the two remained such good friends, even after Ricciardo had departed Red Bull.
Even Ricciardo mentions that Lewis Hamilton had gone up to him to ask how Verstappen and Ricciardo had managed to keep their friendship going even though they had tussles on track. “I don’t really know,” Ricciardo says. “I mean it’s definitely all in hindsight now, but I think it was because we—or at least I—knew that our friendship was really important. Like it was no matter what happens I don’t go and screw up this friendship I have with Max.”
Ricciardo would go through a bumpy time in his post-Red Bull career, going through two seasons at Renault, two seasons at McLaren before a 6 month break where he was named ‘Third Driver’ for Red Bull, a 6 month stint in Red Bull sister team AlphaTauri (formerly Toro Rosso, now Visa Cash App RB) which was marked with Ricciardo missing 5 races due to a hand injury during a free practice session in Zandvoort before returning back to the very seat he left six years earlier, Red Bull announcing Ricciardo’s return at the 2023 Las Vegas race.
A move that was then deemed as a surprise move by many pundits, all was put to rest when Riccardo finessed his AlphaTauri in the podium position, grabbing the team 3rd place and their first podium since Pierre Gasly in 2021.
Something was different about this second stint, and it wasn’t the journeys they’ve both gone on since they both parted ways. There was something different about them together.
[Photo: Max and Daniel laughing in the Red Bull garage.]
Nine years on since their first race together, it was oddly reminiscent of their first. Verstappen crossed the line to win a race his teammate had been poised to do so. Only this time, the celebrations were much different.
With Ricciardo in hospital, Verstappen quickly left the race track after a tuned down podium ceremony, skipping out on mandatory post-race media duties, where competitors and team can attract fines for doing so. (The FIA opted not to fine Verstappen and Red Bull in this instance.)
Even during the red flag it was clearly Verstappen was antsy, with his radio calls after finding out his teammate was in an accident conveying his state of worry. Leaked video from inside the Red Bull garage has Verstappen mention not finishing the race, wanting to be by Ricciardo’s side instead.
///
“I remember I posted the post and people were like ‘Oh, maybe he meant it in a friendly way’ and I was like f***, I’ve got to actually spell it out for them.” Hence, the iconic post that broke the F1 world was born.
[Daniel’s tweet.]
It’s 2020, and the Australian Grand Prix has just been cancelled due to COVID.
All the drivers and teams are left scrambling to try and leave the country before the borders close, and Daniel Ricciardo has just invited Max Verstappen to stay over at his house in Perth.
“I don’t think I can even call it a friendly gesture, because as much as I like the other guys on the grid, there’s no way I would’ve invited them over.”
///
“Yeah, I won a championship. But I’m still the same person.”
Ricciardo’s often been somewhat of an open book, he says—whether it was for the better or for the worse. Every aspect of his life has been so highly publicised, from winning races to what it looks like when he’s not, it’s remarkable how he still holds nearly the same candour, even if his name and career has seemingly been dragged through the mud a thousand times over by the media.
Last year he publicly came out in a F1-related podcast, to what he says was very unplanned. “I didn’t plan to come out, let’s say, it just kind of happened.
“I didn’t even plan to come out, let's say, it just kind of happened? I was recording a podcast and I was talking about 2022 and how it unfolded, the support systems around me and I said “my partner”, and a part of me went Oh, shit! I hadn’t talked about my relationships at length before that, and I knew people were going to absolutely run with it and then I was like—well, might as well just go the whole nine yards, so then the second reference to my partner I very deliberately dropped in he. And that was it.”
“I remember so vividly, I went home that night and I told Max, oh I think I did something stupid and his mind immediately went to me accidentally leaking like team secrets or something big like that, and I was like no, I may have accidentally came out and within like three seconds you could see is brain just switch.
“There is no we found the elephant in the room or whatever. The elephant has always been in the room and it’s just decided to make its presence known.”
“Look, I definitely understand some of the criticism that some people may have with F1 or Red Bull or us capitalising on our relationship or whatever, but I think now more than ever there’s a need to perhaps know who the drivers are when they aren’t driving.” Ricciardo adds.
“Because it’s all fine and good if John Smith is winning races and driving amazingly, but if you know next to nothing about the person because it seems like they’re packed up and shipped race to race, you’re not going to root for the guy because they’ve made no connection.”
Ricciardo quickly clarifies that it’s not a negative for sports people or celebrities to maintain their personal lives, but he sees it more as a way to express or show what he wants to show in his own lives. “We spent nearly five years it near complete secrecy from the outside world and whilst I’m not saying that we should’ve just been public right from the start—we probably wouldn’t have survived—I was just wanting to post a photo of Max burning dinner or something and not have gossip magazines or Instagram accounts dissect every pixel of it.”
Did Ricciardo get pushback from the FIA or his team? It’s a difficult question to answer, he tells me. NDAs and whatnot. He says, “The team was wonderful about it, though. Had multiple team members come up to us willingly to fight the higher powers if needed which was very sweet.”
“Let’s just say there were conversations that I had been made aware of that had made me feel like we weren’t even allowed to look at each other when we were in the paddock. I felt like they were asking me to only refer to him as my teammate, stuff along those lines.”
///
“One of our friends told us at our wedding something along the lines of for F1 drivers, you did move pretty fucking slow in your relationship! And Max was like yeah, did you know who we were in 2018?” Ricciardo laughs loudly, scaring one of the cats who seemed ready to take a nap.
///
“I used to rely so much on what other people thought of me, it wasn’t enough that I thought I was the best guy out there, you also had to think I was the best guy out there.”
///
Racing has always been part of Ricciardo’s life, but he doesn’t want it to be the only thing now in his life. He wants you to ask about things not related to racing, like how much he loves his family or how he thinks the Buffalo Bills are the greatest NFL team on earth.
“I’m not going to do this forever, you know?” He says, finishing the can of Red Bull he’d been slowly sipping throughout the course of this piece. “I hope when I look back at these years of my life I’m going to be equally proud of what I did in the car and what I did outside of it.” — With reporting done by Tylda Rune-Liberi and Nicolas St. Revelate.
CUT: Max and the team getting called up to the FIA
WHY: The FIA seems like an organisation who might send me a cease and desist if I wrote them as quietly homophobic. I don’t have money for a lawsuit. Also wanted to keep the universe happy because the real one is not. Still think my Mad Mex reference is funny.
Autosport @/autosport
Breaking: Max Verstappen summoned to the stewards after allegedly breaking parc ferme rules.
12 replies 90 reposts 821 likes
—
F1 - 2026 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX - POST RACE PRESS CONFERENCE - TRANSCRIPT
23.3.26
Q: Sorry, Daniel just coming back to you now. We’ve just received word that Max Verstappen has just been summoned to the stewards for breaking parc fermé conditions, any reaction on that?
Daniel RICCIARDO: For what?
Q: Uh, we think it might be related to post race procedures around weighing. Not entirely sure yet, his meeting is at 6:15pm.
DR: Well there goes our dinner plans. To be fair our dinner plans were literally just Mad Mex in our hotel rooms before flying to Perth, but still.
Jack DOOHAN: Mad what?
DR: Mad Mex? You know, the Mexican fast food place. Surely you’ve had it.
JD: Oh, I thought you said Mad Max and I was like, “He finished P4 that doesn’t seem too bad.”
DR: Did Max not do the weigh in or what?
Q: He did, after your podium. Sorry mate, even more bad news for the team, they’ve been summoned to the stewards as well.
DR: If I find out I’m going to lose another podium about ten years on after the race here I’m gonna be pissed.
Q: This one is related to Article 26.13 b, where “Unless authorised by the FIA, no one under the age of 16 is permitted in the pit lane at the following times: b) The period commencing fifteen (15) minutes before the pit exit is opened to allow cars to cover reconnaissance laps and the time when the last car enters the parc fermé after the sprint session or the race has ended.”
DR: What cause we had our daughter with us at the podium celebration?
Q: Quite possibly, yeah.
DR: That’s interesting. I—yeah, I’m just gonna say that’s interesting.
Oscar PIASTRI: Kevin had his kids with him in Monza twenty four, didn’t he?
DR: Yeah, I’m sure the team will have a lot to say so we’ll just leave it at that.
CUT: Reaction to Australia winning
WHY: Timeline changes. Original timeline was Australia 2026 being their first race back after Las Vegas and relationship/kid reveal. I apparently also cut the all Australian podium. Can't remember why.
[Photo 1:
Photo 2:
Photo 3:
Photo 4: Lucinda holding the constructor trophy on the podium, Daniel giving a big grin next to her.]
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danielricciardo Never thought I’d be able to share a podium with two other Aussies but what better time than at our home race. @/jackdoohan @/oscarpiastri @/redbullracing 🇦🇺❤️
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ausgp Surely this gets us a public holiday?! @/auspm
oscarpiastri We’re about to get even more annoying…
—
Oracle Red Bull Racing @/redbullracing
Don’t mind us, we’re just in a puddle of tears over how cute @/Max33Verstappen and @/danielricciardo are 😍😭🫶
[Video: Taken from behind the parc ferme barriers, Daniel holding Matilda as Max hugs him, one hand around his waist and the other around the back of his neck.]
—
jeanie 🤠 @/COTADANIEL
flabbergasted about how well max and daniel hid their relationship from the world because man that he looks at daniel like he hung the moon stars and the sun and we’ve just been blind to notice
jake @/381racers
Maxiel admin logged on today thank you universe 🙏
—
DANIEL: Yeah, I just didn’t think I was able to have this, you know? If you had told me like seven years ago that hey, “You’ll be winning again and Max and your kid will be right along with you”, I would’ve laughed in your face. There is still absolutely more work to do, but I’m just glad I get to have my little moment without like some of these outside factors screaming and kicking at us.
CUT: Jake @/381racers meeting Daniel
WHY: Felt too indulgent. Loved it, but I think the idea pushed the boundaries/fourth wall maybe A Little too much, even for my low standards.
jake @/381racers
Only felt right that I get this signed
[Photo: Jake’s infamous tweet “Max Verstappen can you fight?” printed out and framed. Max has signed it and wrote “Yes he can.”]
—
jake @/381racers
First photo really Daniel did you have to shame me further . I thought we had a promise. Anyways, here's the video of me meeting them.
[Video: Jake meeting Daniel, in Red Bull hospitality. They’re both sitting down in chairs, and Jake has his hands on top of a frame placed face down on the table.
JAKE: Do you remember like two years ago in COTA you wore a leather jacket outfit and basically the internet blew up because of how good you looked?
DANIEL: Yeah, with the cowboy hat and everything!
JAKE: And there was a tweet that trended on that weekend—
Daniel sits up in his chair, eyes widening in realisation of who Jake is.
DANIEL: Oh my god you’re “Max Verstappen can you fight?” guy?!
JAKE: Embarrassingly, yes.
DANIEL: (offscreen) How did you find him?!
OFFSCREEN: Remember when I said I was going to bring my boyfriend this race?
Daniel looks back and forth behind the person offscreen and Jake multiple times before bending over and laughing hysterically.
OFFSCREEN: Yeah, I’m not happy about it either.
DANIEL: Oh my god did I like cause you two to meet?
jake @/381racers
No I too am not happy about my internet history coming back to bite me
CUT: Interview with Lawrence Baretto
WHY: I ran out of time. I had planned to post this at the end of Jan, but since I didn’t post that NYD bonus fic, I didn’t wanna go a month without an update so this got culled. Also my vague illusions to Max’s dad felt a little weird.
Exclusive: Daniel Ricciardo on retirement, 15 years of F1 and family with Lawerence Barretto
When I ask about his daughter and if they have any interest in making her follow in her parents footsteps, he shuts down my line of questioning pretty quickly.
“No,” he immediately says. “I’m not going to write out a path for her to follow, or put expectations for her to go into karting because of a family legacy. I think Max knows it a little bit more than me, how the expectations of someone who’s meant to take care of you can tarnish the thing you love.”
Jos Verstappen, Max’s father and former F1 driver hasn’t been seen in the paddock since 2023. Both declined to comment when asked.
“If she wants to start karting, then we’ll probably have a very long conversation about how it’s important that she finds it fun and if she doesn’t then she doesn’t. It’s not important to me that she wins or whatever, I just want her to enjoy it.”
Chapter five: 2027
CUT: Drive to Survive script
WHY: I did not have the energy to write a full script, and I felt like there were too many events to write about and I could not do it justice. Also I would like idk if Max and Daniel would show Matilda on DTS which is crazy because Matilda is not real…
—
Drive to Survive
Season 10 Episode 10 “One final rodeo…”
After fifteen years in the sport, Formula 1 says goodbye to Daniel Ricciardo.
[00:20:26]
INT. HOTEL ROOM INTERVIEW
PRODUCER: We don’t have to talk about Las Vegas.
DANIEL: No, it's fine. Probably should. Uh—yeah.
PRODUCER: We can take a minute.
DANIEL: Yeah, thanks. I didn’t talk about it last year did I?
PRODUCER: No. Okay, we’ll cut.
CUT TO BLACK.
Sound of car crashing into wall, before it fades in to show the Red Bull in the pitlane wall. Cuts to people reacting—Red Bull employees, fans in the grandstands and then a birds eye aerial view of the crash, showing the medical and extraction crew.
PIERRE HAMLIN (V.O): Daniel, are you okay?
Cuts to Max’s T-CAM footage, him driving past the car.
MAX (V.O): What the fuck happened?
PIERRE: Daniel, please just press the radio button so we know you’re okay.
Cuts to Daniel’s T-CAM footage, his helmet leans against the left side of the halo, indicating he’s unmoving.
PIERRE: Daniel, can you hear me?
Cuts to showing the Red Bull pitwall, everyone looking at each other worried.
DANIEL (V.O): The first thought I had was: Shit. This is really bad timing. Second thought I had was: Max is going to kill me.
Cuts to Daniel's forward facing cockpit onboard, him moving his head and looking up and down the cockpit.
PIERRE: Daniel?
DANIEL: Yep. Fuck. My chest, fuck. Shit, is um the other driver okay?
PIERRE: Yes, he's okay but don't worry about him. Do you think you can get out of the car?
DANIEL: Yeah no, I don't think that's happening with breaking something. Fuck, my ribs. Oh god. I think something's broken.
PIERRE: Okay Daniel, the medical team are nearly there but do not move if you think it will cause more damage. The car is safe, so do not worry about anything else.
DANIEL: Yep, okay. Um, will someone tell Max I'm okay? Just, don't freak him out yeah?
PIERRE: Copy Daniel, it will be okay, it will be okay. Just keep radio on please.
DANIEL: Okay. Fuck, this sucks.
INT. STUDIO
TEXT: Max Verstappen, Red Bull Racing driver
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Been a while.
PRODUCER: Didn’t think you were going to agree.
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Would be a big thing if you made it look like we hated each other again!
PRODUCER: We asked Daniel what his first thought was when he had that accident. He said “This is really bad timing” and that you were going to kill him. Why?
MAX: Well, because of Matilda.
EXT. PORT HERCULES, MONACO— MORNING
Long shot of Port Hercules, Monaco, filmed from a balcony. It’s peaceful, quiet—the city sounds filling the background before we hear a baby scream in joy.
DANIEL: Matilda!
Matilda is on the floor in the living room, on a playmat and she plays with wooden blocks. Max is next to her on the ground, with his back leant against the couch, Daniel is on the couch.
DANIEL (V.O): Yeah, she’s one of the best things to happen to me. For a long time my whole life was just racing, but now she’s my whole life. Like it’s okay if I have a bad race or whatever, I’ve got to move on quickly because she’s there at home waiting.
MAX: Having a kid does change you, I think. Daniel will not say his driving has changed, but it has.
PRODUCER: In what way?
MAX: I think now he is more focused on winning every race, not that he wasn’t before. But because maybe he knows that every race matters more now. You hope that the others around you will not be too reckless so that you can go home after the race.
EXT. CIRCUIT OF THE AMERICAS — MIDDAY
TEXT ON SCREEN: 2025 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Hey, welcome back Danny!
DANIEL: Thank you, thank you. Hope you didn’t miss my handsome face too much.
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: I didn’t know Jake went on holiday!
DANIEL: I’m gonna crash the car just for that.
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #2: No, we’re just kidding. So how’s the baby?
DANIEL: She’s great, do you wanna see a photo?
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Oh, she’s adorable. Matilda was her name?
DANIEL: Yeah, yeah. We had a list but I think Matilda was the only one that stood out to us. She just looks like a Matilda you know?
///
The camera swings to the right, as Daniel’s head sticks out from the door.
DANIEL RICCIARDO: You aren’t talking shit about me, Maxy?
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Of course I am.
///
MAX: I have raced with Daniel in every single year of F1. I think it will be weird.
DANIEL RICCIARDO I think I was a pretty good darn car mechanic.
CUT: Max’s interview with GQ
WHY: If you haven’t learnt by now, I am very lazy. Honestly, I just wanted this chapter out and I knew I didn’t have the time to write a whole article. Also I don’t think Max would be this open about this relationship but maybe Daniel made him more open in this universe. I still stand by the first sentence, it is possibly the truest thing to come out of the fic.
You can’t talk about Max Verstappen without eventually talking about Daniel Ricciardo, and you can’t talk about Daniel Ricciardo without eventually talking about Max Verstappen. This was a true statement in the earlier part of Verstappen’s career, but now perhaps even more so. “He’s made me a much better person,” Verstappen comments when I ask him about his husband. “I maybe wasn’t the best person to be teammates with when I was first in Formula 1, but he stayed friends with me. Even after he left and I was not being nice to him, he still stayed. That was very important to me.”
There’s a certain aura of happiness that comes from Verstappen when he starts talking about Ricciardo, and he says it’s probably one of the most documented love stories of F1.
It started in the early morning after the final race of the 2018 season, and a drunk voicemail to Ricciardo kicked things off. “I was still mad that he was going, and I had too many gin and tonics and I called him at like 12 am or something. Obviously he didn’t answer because he was sleeping but I said really embarrassing stuff in that voicemail.” He left one more a couple hours later, asking Ricciardo not to mention it.
“He really took that to heart.” Verstappen laughs. “I don’t really know why, we would talk when we saw each other on race weekends and pretend that everything was fine between us.”
They were seemingly friends only when it was the race weekend, but off track they had never been further apart. There was a lot of resentment and unsaid conversation from Verstappen’s side, self proclaiming that his stubbornness had put a pin in their relationship. “It’s easy to say now looking back, but I thought Daniel leaving Red Bull was also leaving me. And I didn’t take it well.”
But a little bit of push and shove from his fellow friends made him realise that having Ricciardo in his life was more important than whatever feelings he had towards him leaving.
///
Verstappen proposed two years later in December 2022 at that same house. “Coordinates of the house and everything on the ring,” Ricciardo comments when he drops in to grab something from the office. “Cried like a baby when I realised.”
Deleted Epilogue:
WHY: I still can’t decide if Matilda would go down the F1 path. If she did, she is definitely a Ferrari driver. Just to mess with her dads. I think she would sign with Red Bull in the junior seasons, maybe do two seasons with Red Bull then switch to Ferrari. A Sebastian Vettel if you will…let’s hope it turns out better for her than him.
[Photo 1: A Ferrari car crossing the chequered flag.
Photo 2: Matilda on the third step of the podium, holding the trophy in the air, the Australian flag wrapped around her shoulders.]
Photo 3: Matilda hugging her parents in parc ferme.]
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mvr one home race down 🇦🇺, one more to go 🇳🇱 😉
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scuderiaferrari 👏🎉
23 March
—
SKY SPORTS: 2048 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX
David CROFT: And Matilda Verstappen-Ricciardo absolutely sends it down the inside and makes it stick, and what a move! Gosh, I was not expecting her to pull it off but she absolutely does and gets a roar of a cheer from the home crowd, Verstappen-Ricciardo is currently in P3.
Jenson BUTTON: I mean, we should not be surprised. Daughter of Max Verstappen, a six time World Champion and Daniel Ricciardo, another World Champion. A lot of racing talent in that family, I thought the last of the late breakers was Daniel but she has really put a new meaning on late!
DC: And speaking of there is Max and Daniel Verstappen-Ricciardo, who I imagine are probably the most nervous parents in the paddock right now! A lovely nod and clap of encouragement as we watch the reaction of Matilda’s overtake for P3.
—
matilda verstappen-ricciardo @/MVR
if you’re wondering if it’s embarrassing to have your parents show up at work to congratulate you just wait till one of them interviews you in front of the tv…. thanks dad i’ve never felt so uncool before
138 replies 98 reposts 20,482 likes
—
POST RACE: PARC FERME INTERVIEW
Daniel RICCIARDO: Matilda!
Matilda VERSTAPPEN-RICCIARDO: Oh my god, please be cool about this.
DR: Just wait till I convince F1 to let me and Max double host it.
MVR: This is actually my worst nightmare. Like maybe three other people will understand what I’m feeling right now.
DR:
///
MVR: I mean I’m not worried about a legacy, if people think I’m here to start or continue a legacy then they can think that, but I’m here to race. Not carry on whatever my parents did.
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A House
Part: 2
Author's Note: Things start to heat up in this chapter. The drama begins now, but it's not like a lot of drama yet. Anyways, I'm sorry if it's shit. I actually hope you all like it. Also, right below the authors note is a list of warnings/triggers for the chapter. If there’s something that triggers you or if there’s something you don’t wish to read about but you still want to read the story, I can edit it out and send you a copy of the story without the trigger.
warnings: use of the word 'slut', a bit of 'mwah mwah' ya know?, a bit of bullying
wc: 2586
-=+=-
Matty and Lilah - Aged 16
“Come on, Lilah. We’re gonna be late.” Matty says as he knocks on the door the Lilah’s room for what feels like the millionth time today.
“I’m not going. I’ll see you after school.” Lilah shouted back from behind the door.
“You can’t just not go to school.”
“Yes I can, watch me.”
“If you don’t go, you’re letting them win. They’re gonna know they’ve won.”
“Well they did. So I’m not going, they win.”
“Lilah, open this door right now before I break it down.”
“You’re not going to break it down. You bruise like a peach.”
“Do not.” Matty stood there flabbergasted, his jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m not going, end of discussion.”
“Lilah, I won’t let them hurt you.” Matty said, leaning his head against the door frame, “I won’t leave you. And if you come with me to school today, we can go to the house after all our classes. I promise.”
He hears the click of the lock on her door before it opens a crack, he can see Lilah through the small crack in the door.
“You promise?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Okay.”
Matty extends his hand to her and she takes it. She holds on tight for a majority of their walk to school but instantly lets go as soon as they start to see fellow classmates. Matty feels his heart sink. It’s not just because she dropped his hand, but because he knows why she does it. She already gets called rude names at school, she didn’t want to drag him down with her. But he’d willingly go down with her if it meant he could have her.
“I’ll see you at lunch. See ya.” Lilah says as she rushes off into the crowd of students trying to get to their classes on time.
“Alright then. Bye I guess. See ya. It’s not like I need a goodbye or anything. It’s fine. Just walk away and leave me all by my lonesome.” Matty talks to himself as he slowly walks to his first class of the day.
-=+=-
The students get let out of class for lunch and Lilah makes a beeline for the courtyard, wanting to get to Matty before anyone could get to her. But that was wishful thinking.
“Well hello slut.”
Kayla, the biggest bully that Lilah had ever had the displeasure of meeting.
“Hi Kayla.” Lilah said quietly, trying to walk around Kayla but the girl isn’t letting up.
“Where do you think you’re going? Off to be a slut again? Who is it this time? Luke? Christopher? or is it your usual, Matty?”
“No, I’m just going to lunch.”
“Right, ‘Lunch’” Kayla laughs as she uses air quotes.
“Please, I’m just trying to go.”
“Oh, are you that desperate to get off? You have to run to your next dick appointment?”
Then a voice interrupts.
“Is there a problem? Lilah, is Kayla bothering you?” said Dale.
Dale was the golden boy of the town. He was smart, strong, and hardworking. Every guy wanted to be him and every girl wanted to be with him. He had always been kind towards Lilah, never really making conversation with her but he put in the effort to show he wasn’t one of the rotten ones in this town.
“Oh no problem here. I was just chatting to my friend here. Wasn’t I?” Kayla says as she looks at you, giving you a look that could cut.
“Um, yeah. We were just talking.” Lilah says, trying not to fold into herself too much. She can’t let Kayla know she’s winning.
“Lilah? Are you sure you’re okay?” Dale asked again.
“Yeah Lilah, tell him how everything’s fine.” Kayla interrupted.
“Kayla” Dale started, “Would you be so kind as to give me a moment alone with Lilah?”
“Sure” Kayla said as she gave a very fake and toothy smile. Lilah could see the rage behind her eyes.
As soon as Kayla walked away, Dale began “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? It didn’t seem like it for a bit. Thought you could use some saving.” he laughed.
God why is he so cute, Lilah thought.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks though, you didn’t have to intervene.”
“I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you. I wanted to ask you something.”
Lilah looked up at him with her doe eyes. A bit of confusion was written on her face.
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” she asked.
“I was wondering if you’d ever want to go out? with me?” Dale said as he stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, trying not to show how nervous he was.
“Me? You want to go out with me?” Lilah was in disbelief. She was the school slut, who would want to go out with her?
“Yeah with you. I’ve seen you around school and around town and I’ve always thought you seemed kind and pretty. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for the longest time but I wasn’t sure if I stood a chance with a girl as gorgeous as you.”
“Oh, I mean, sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”
“Sweet. I can pick you up on Friday night? We can get dinner and get to know each other more?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.” she smiled at him.
“Awesome. I’ll see you around until then.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
Dale walks away and Lilah just thinks for sure? what the fuck was that?
All of a sudden, Lilah feels a hand gently glide down her bicep. She quickly turns to see Matty with a worried look on his face. Once she notices it’s him, she calms a bit.
“Hey, are you alright? I saw you and Dale talking. Did he say anything to you? Like, anything that would upset you?” he asked after giving her arm a light, reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. He was actually asking me out on a date.” Lilah couldn’t help but smile.
“Dale? He asked you on a date?”
“Yeah, is that hard to believe? Am I that unappealing?” she joked.
“No, not at all darling. It’s just that you know how people in this town are. And Dale is the guy. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”
“I’ll be fine Matty. We’re going out this Friday. I’m very excited.”
“I’m glad that you’re happy. So, shall we head to lunch?”
“Yeah, come on. You can tell me all about the silly little band you want to start.” Lilah teased.
“Well, first of all, it’s not silly. Second of all, it’s not little. We’re not little. We’re men. In a band.”
“Alright, whatever you say.”
The two make their way to the courtyard, away from the majority for some peace and quiet, as well as the nice weather. They sit in their usual spot, a bench under a massive willow tree.
As they take their seats, Lilah starts “So, how are the boys?”
“They’re alright, it’s hard to make the time to work on the band when we’re all so busy. Just need to make the time to practice so we can leave this stupid little town.”
Lilah could feel her heart shatter a bit.
What about me? she thought.
“Yeah” she softly replied, “So, any girls catch your eye?”
“No, not really. I’m way out of everyone’s league.” Matty joked as he leaned back against the bench.
“Sure you are. Matthew Timothy Healy, the boy who threw up on the school playground after a bird shat on him.” Lilah laughed.
“You said you’d never bring it up again. That was rude. I’ve never been so betrayed.” Matty whined.
“Oh poor baby Matty. He couldn’t handle a bit of bird poo.” she started to laugh hysterically at the memory.
Bottle it up. I want to bottle up her laugh. I want to be able to hear it all the time. My favorite kind of music.
“Anyways,” Matty cleared his throat, “Wanna go to the house after school?”
“Yes! I can’t wait. I love that house.”
“Me too, darling. I’ve started working on it though. I’ve been cleaning it up a bit and fixing some holes in the walls and stuff.”
“Really?” Lilah practically squealed out of excitement.
“Yeah, I promised you, didn’t i?”
She smiled so wide, he wanted to capture it to keep forever.
“Yeah, yeah you did.”
-=+=-
After school, Matty and Lilah made their way to the house.
The house is an abandoned little cottage that the two found in the middle of the woods when they were about 12 years old. It was a bit worn down when they found it, but it became their spot. They would go to the house whenever they could, whether they were going to read, do homework, talk, or just hang out. When they were 14, they promised each other that they would fix up the house and make it theirs to live in. It was their safe space.
Once they got there, Lilah looked around to see the work that Matty had completed since the last time she saw it. He must have worked quite a bit because there was a lot of improvement.
“Matty, this is amazing. I mean, if you work at this rate, the house will be done in a few months.” Lilah said in amazed disbelief.
“Yeah, I’ve been coming here to fix it up, any chance I get. I was thinking you could do a majority of the decorating. I know you love making spaces feel cozy and lived in.”
“I do. I can start decorating as soon as you’re done doing the construction bit.” she smiled at him.
“Yeah, no worries. Once you start decorating, let me know. I can help you carry stuff over.” Matty said as he went to take a seat on the couch he brought in the last time he’d been at the house.
Lilah goes to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. To which Matty rested his head on top of hers.
“I can’t wait to move in here with you someday.” Lilah said.
“Yeah. Me too, darling.”
Matty felt a pit in his stomach. He knew with Dale being a prospect for Lilah, that the chances of sharing a life with her were slowly dwindling. But he didn’t want to risk her happiness. She seemed excited for her date with Dale, and Dale didn’t seem like a bad guy.
Maybe if things don’t work out between her and Dale, Matty could work up the courage to tell her how he feels. Maybe they’d have a shot at a future together.
-=+=-
It’s Friday afternoon, Lilah’s getting ready for her first date with Dale. Her first date ever. To say she was anxious is an understatement. To try and calm her nerves, she tried to go on a walk and ended up at the house. She walked in and started pacing the floors. The wooden boards creaked with every step she took, that would be something she’d mention to Matty to see if he could fix it. But right now she had to think. How do you go on a first date? What was the proper etiquette? Should she hold his hand? Sit close to him at dinner? What do you even talk about on a first date? What if people from school see them and say something? What if it was all a joke and he won’t actually show up? Should she hug him? Kiss his cheek? Kiss Him?! She doesn’t know how to kiss. She’s never been kissed before. How do you kiss? What if she’s bad? What if her kiss ruins the date? What if she kisses him and he actually didn’t want to kiss her? What if her breath stinks? What if he gets disgusted after the kiss? What if he tells the whole school about how she’s a terrible kisser?
She’s spiraling.
-=+=-
Matty has been running around like a headless chicken, trying to find Lilah. He’d walked her home from school and then parted from her when she said she needed to get ready for her date. She seemed excited when she left. Is she alright? Has she gone on the date early?
Matty looked everywhere for her, calling out her name, with no avail as to where she’d gone. But there’s still one place he hasn't checked yet. The house.
He made his way to the house and as he walked up to the front door, he could hear light footsteps inside, pacing. Not just any footsteps, Lilah’s footsteps. Matty opened the door as it groaned in resistance.
I should get that fixed. He thought
When he walks in, he sees Lilah still pacing the floor. She’s in her head. She’s got a worried expression and she’s biting her nails.
“Darling, you alright?” he hesitantly asked, not wanting to startle her.
She stopped pacing a moment to look at him. Her eyebrows began to furrow as she tried to keep back the tears.
“I don’t know what to do. I mean, this is my first date and I’m 16. What should I do? Like on the date? Do I have to stand close to him at all times? Do I have to hug him? What if he expects something from me? Like what if he wants sex? I don't know how to do that. What if he wants to kiss me? I don’t know how to do that either. What if I’m a bad kisser? Cause ya know. I’ve never kissed or been kissed. What if he wants to kiss me with tongue? I have no clue how to do that. I mean wha-”
“I can teach you.” Matty interrupts her with a sly smile plastered on his face.
“What?” she looks at him, completely bewildered.
“I said I can teach you. To kiss.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah. It’s quite easy actually. You just have to get used to it, I guess.”
“So, we just have to… kiss?”
“Yeah, come on. Let me show you.”
“Alright.”
Matty slowly walked towards Lilah. He softly placed a hand on her lower back, pulling her a little closer. With his other hand, he guides Lilah’s arms to wrap around his neck. Once her arms are holding him against her, he uses his free hand to gently grab the side of her face. He pulled her face closer to him before asking “Ready?”
“Yeah” she breathed.
With that, he connected their lips. Delicately at first, as to not overwhelm and scare her. It took her a few seconds to unfreeze, but she soon relaxed into the kiss. Her body no longer stood stiff along his. She practically melted into his arms. Lilah grabbed the back of his head, lightly tugging on his hair, causing him to let out a soft whimper. Matty decided to try and push her a little further by licking her and biting her bottom lip, causing her to gasp. He took that as his chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like the best damn thing in the world. She didn’t have anything to worry about, cause she was an amazing kisser. They didn’t let eachother go, not wanting the moment to end.
Suddenly, Matty pulled away from her. He lightly pushed her off him as he tried to catch his breath. Lilah stood there dumbfounded, wondering why he stopped and why he did it so abruptly.
Without a word, Matty walked out the door and didn’t look back.
#the 1975 fic#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fanfiction#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy x reader#matty healy x oc
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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 1
(Click here for Chapter 2)
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.
⛧Words: 3.3k
⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.
⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.
---------------------
The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.
You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.
He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.
“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.
*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes.
“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.
You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally.
“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization.
“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face.
“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle.
You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents.
“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.
“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.
“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”
“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.
That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day.
----------------------
The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.
Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.
After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.
It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.
“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.
“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.
“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.
“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.
“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”
Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.
“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.
“Yes?”
“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face.
“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.
You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.
Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?
You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.
Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.
“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.
“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.
“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.
“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.
“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.
You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.
The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.
“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.
"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.
“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.
The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.
“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.
When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.
You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.
“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.
“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious.
“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”
“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip.
“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.
“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.
“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.
You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.
Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.
The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.
-------------------
He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.
“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.
“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”
“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.
“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.
“Is there something wrong, sir?”
“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.
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It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.
But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.
You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.
He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs.
“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.
“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper.
A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”
“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.
“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.
“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.
“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.
Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”
“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.
Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.
“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1
[all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao.
Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol.
I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.
(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)
wc: 3.9k
Chapter One
The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.
Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.
Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.
Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.
To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.
So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?
That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.
Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.
You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.
Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.
It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.
So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.
Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).
Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.
Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.
So… What did you want? What did you actually like?
It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.
Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.
So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?
Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?
You settled on four key things to keep in mind:
You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.
You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.
You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.
And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.
How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.
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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.
You were going to sit at a new lunch table.
You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.
But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?
You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.
Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.
“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”
So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.
“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.
“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”
You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.
Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.
And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.
You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.
As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.
As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.
Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.
Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.
Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.
Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.
As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.
That’s when an idea began to form.
You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.
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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).
You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.
You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.
So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”
Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.
But then the idea gave you pause.
You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.
But… maybe?
Shit, what a stupid idea.
Or maybe it was a brilliant one.
You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.
You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.
Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?
It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.
So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:
Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436
You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.
You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.
He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”
Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”
The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.
“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.
You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.
So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.
When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.
So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.
It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.
You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:
Picnic table behind the football field, 4.
God, what were you getting yourself into.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things#em#dos and donts
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The Family Business Ch.2
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Ch Notes: No warnings for this chapter, Krolik=Bunny, Sestra=Sister
Summary: Wanda was sent away on important business, by the time she comes back you're all grown up and a part of the family company. Wanda doesn't come back home empty handed in fact she returns with a brand new wife.
An: Ok someone asked me for Ch.2 early and I had to deliver. Next Ch.3 will be up on Monday. Stay tuned and hope you enjoy.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
True to their word, the Maximoff’s provided you with a roof over your head and protection wherever you went. You never worried about your mother again and you saw your father whenever his schedule permitted. However, your primary residence was with the Maximoff’s. They were just as kind as they had always been.
Dragos and Flora paid for anything you could ever want or need. They paid for your tuition at NYU, though you tried to argue against it. You double majored in software engineering and physics. Without the constant insecurities that your parents piled on you, you were able to reach new academic heights.
Wanda had gone off right before her college graduation, Dragos said she was doing important work internationally. He didn’t know when she would be returning. There was a small part of you that hated that the woman didn’t come to your graduation, but a card from her in the mail was enough to make you smile.
Once you had your degrees you weighed your options. After multiple boring interviews and under stimulating work you finally asked Dragos if there was anything you could do in the family business. Pietro wasn’t thrilled about you wanting to be involved, but once he saw you at work, he knew you’d fit right in.
The crime was fronted by a legitimate business that Dragos owned. Which meant that you got to work out of one the tallest office buildings in New York. Your standing with the family also afforded you a desk pretty high up. When you weren’t hacking into competitors’ systems or running field operations, you did simple accounting for the company. It was easier that way, as the numbers for both the true business and the under-cover business were vetted by you.
“Y/n, come on a delivery with me?” Pietro pops his head into your office space.
“What kind of delivery?”
He smirks, “Special.”
You quickly grab your jacket and follow him out of your office. As you navigate to the bottom floor the two of you make small talk.
“So, when are you going to stop playing around and ask Monica out?”
Pietro rolls his eyes, “When you date someone for more than 2 outings.”
You feign a pained look, “Ouch, that one hurts Piet.”
“The truth often does.”
Once you both are out of the building and into the car your demeanor changes a bit, “So who are these going to?”
“Mr. H.”
You groan, “That guy’s sketchy, I don't like him.”
Pietro laughs, “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about us. “
“Whatever,” you mumble, scrolling through your phone.
The rest of the ride is quiet, until you pull up to the drop of location. “So, I’m going in and dropping the stuff off. You’re going to wait for me in the driver's seat.”
“Why the driver’s seat?”
He blinks at you, “In case we need to get away faster, you'll already be in here. Keep the car running, this should be quick.”
While Pietro goes in to handle the business, you let your mind spiral into thoughts about Wanda. You miss her and feel like it has been too long. Dragos said that she ended up staying in Russia for awhile before heading to their home country of Sokovia. Apparently, while he ran the business here, she ran the operations over there.
You weren’t surprised that Wanda was trusted with such an important role, she always had leadership qualities. For a long while you thought you wanted to be just like her. Instead, you realized that the older woman had been someone you were interested in. Wanda had nearly a decade on you in age, but how could you not like her as a young queer girl.
Sometimes you could still feel her hand delicately grazing your torso as she patched up the wounds your mother inflicted. For awhile in the Maximoff’s home everyone treated you as if you would break into a million pieces. Maybe Wanda did too, but it was different with her.
She wasn’t just careful with you because she was scared, you’d break, but she truly believed that you deserved the care. Even when you began training with her, she treated you delicately. You wanted to learn how to protect yourself and she stepped right in and became the perfect teacher. You also began going to the gym with Pietro at least once a week. You weren’t trying to be buff, but just in shape enough to defend yourself if you needed.
Even though your outward appearance changed to be stronger. You felt as though Wanda saw right through that into your deepest insecurities and tended to them accordingly.
Your daydreaming is cut short by Pietro busting out of the warehouse where the drop was supposed to take place, with the goods still in his hand.
“DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!”
He jumps into the passenger seat, and you hit the gas. Pietro is talking to you, but your adrenaline is kicking in. Your fieldwork doesn’t really get this exciting without a debrief. Getaway driver is definitely a new change in speed.
Your eyes focus solely on the road, ignoring what the man is saying as his chest heaves up and down. A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells you that they are following you. While you are curious about what happened, those questions can be answered later.
Pietro is actually mildly impressed with your driving skills. Your sharp turns and redirections are top notch in his opinion. Though you are doing great the guys are still tailing you.
You think for a moment, trying to remember the nearest parking garage. You realize that it’s behind you and brake hard, you weave through oncoming traffic to try to get to the parking garage.
“Get ready to hop out,” you say to Pietro parking the car. Once you do the blonde starts running on foot and you call after him. He stops in his tracks frantic until he sees you breaking into another car. When you get in you drive normally out of the parking structure and straight back to the office.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n I didn’t know you could drive like that?”
Pietro grabs the wooden box from his lap before walking to the elevator. He wipes his hands on his jeans and proceeds as though it was a just another day.
“So, what the fuck happened?”
He raises an eyebrow, “You weren’t listening in the car?”
“Duh, I was a little preoccupied with the whole driving for my life thing.”
“I guess you'll hear it when I tell Papa then.”
The two of you are definitely headed to the top floor of the building to inform Dragos of what has transpired. Pietro is never one for knocking and simply barges into the man’s office.
“Papa, do you have a- Sestra?”
Pietro’s sentence dies in his throat as he gets a glimpse of his older sister. He wastes no time sitting in the wooden box on a couch nearby and scooping up the redhead in a tight hug. You could hear them exchanging more words in their mother language. It’s an unexpectedly tender moment as Pietro tries to keep things on the light side.
Somewhere in the hug Wanda’s eyes land on you and they widen slightly. She untangles herself from her brother to get a good look at you. She’s older, as expected, but age had been more than kind to her. Wanda looks as elegant as ever, an air of distinguish surrounds her.
The way she looks at you makes you feel like a teenager again. You do your best not to squirm under her gaze. When a smile placed itself on her lips, you feel relief washing over you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulls you in to a big hug.
Her hands rise to hold your face, pulling back just slightly. She wants to get a good look at you. The softness of her hands causes you to blush.
“You’ve grown up on me little krolik.”
She releases the hold, and you speak, “You’ve been gone a long time, Wanda.”
There it is, in your voice for the first time in years; That fragile tone that you had only ever allowed Wanda to hear. You hope it didn't sound as desperate to everyone else in the room and it didn't. But Wanda picked up on it instantly.
“I have, but now I'm back; permanently,” Wanda says, keeping her eyes on you.
“And she brought a friend,” Dragos interjects, and you watch Wanda roll her eyes.
“She’s more than a friend Papa, she’s my wife and she’s sitting right here. I expect you to treat her kindly.”
Wanda is married and to a woman. Your mind scrambles to piece together what had happened in the years that she was gone for this to be the case. It is hard for you to digest what the woman had said. Your breathing becomes a little shallow, but no one takes notice.
Finally, you take notice of the other woman in the room, sitting in the chair next to the one Wanda had just been sitting in. Your mouth dries at the sight of her. The woman is stunning. Her auburn hair is a few shades darker than Wanda’s. She has a button nose, soft pink lips and piercing green eyes. You couldn't be mad at Wanda for marrying such a beautiful woman.
“Sestra, you’re married?” Pietro exclaims, looking between the two women dramatically.
“Yes; Y/n, Pietro, this is my wife, Natasha Romanoff.”
Your eyes linger on the woman even when Dragos claps his hands together to get the attention of the room, “Piet you were saying something important. I see that Mr. H didn't get his package.”
Any further pleasantries would have to wait.
“Papa it was a bad deal. They tried short me on our exchange, so I told them they could either bring me the rest of what they owe, or I’d be walking. They planned to take the package from me, so I ran immediately to the car. Of course they chased after me, but thanks to need for speed over here we got away.”
Dragos pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, “Don’t I always say being back up?”
Pietro answers back, “I took Y/n.”
This causes Natasha to chuckle a bit.
Your eyes narrow at her, “Something funny?”
She doesn’t back down, “Well from the way Wanda described you, you don't necessarily scream back up.”
Your jaw clenches slightly and you steal a quick glance at Wanda, “Wanda hasn’t seen me in over 5 years. I’m not that fragile little kid anymore.”
Dragos nods proudly, “Y/n is the biggest asset we have in this organization. She’s by far the glue that holds this all together and I will not tolerate any disrespect thrown her way.” The final part of his sentence carries a lot of weight to it, it’s a verbal warning.
Wanda clears her throat, “Hammerhead is a loyal customer, why would he try to cheat us?”
“He could have a new dealer,” you speak up. “Someone who might be charging less for similar goods.”
“You think someone is dumb enough to try to undercut us?” Pietro questions.
You speak candidly, “I think that people in this city can be greedy, and greed blinds all good sense.”
Dragos clearly agrees, “We need eyes and ears on the streets listening to anything about dealers that aren't us. I need a meeting with Hammerhead to make sure he’s got that big ugly head of his on straight. Y/n if I can't sell this, I'm going to have see a profit of this quantity somewhere else on the sheets.”
“Let Natasha and I come with you to your meeting Papa. I want you to see what we're capable of.”
“Papa, is this woman going to be joining our group?” Pietro asks.
You turn your attention to Dragos, curious of what the man has to say. There is an unbridled shine in Wanda’s eyes and a small upturn of Natasha’s lip. They seem to think that the man would say yes immediately.
Instead, he heavily sighs, “For now Ms. Romanoff is simply Wanda’s… wife. There is a chance that she’ll be given access to join. However, her involvement isn’t guaranteed. So just to be clear, she’s not going to be sitting in on the meeting.”
Wanda wants to fight back, you can tell, but she refrains. The playfulness of her features dissipates as she responds, “Is she at least allowed to stay and watch them work?”
“Y/n do you mind if Ms. Romanoff shadows you for the rest of the day?” You know what Dragos was actually asking of you. He wants you to vet her.
Your eyes land on the woman, staring at her intensely, “Sure.”
She squirms in her seat which makes you smile a bit.
“Pietro,” Dragos starts.
“Eyes & ears I’ve got it Papa,” he’s out of the door fast, setting the plan in motion.
Dragos presses a small button on his desk, “Kate can you set up a meeting between Hammerhead & I. It needs to be as soon as possible. Make it clear that if I’m kept waiting, there will be extra fees to pay. Ones that can't be bought by money.”
“No problem Mr. Maximoff. Should I have Clint get the car ready?” She responds over the intercom.
“That’ll be great, thank you Kate.”
Now it is Wanda who claps her hands, “So I guess it’s time to get to work. Which mean it’s time to say goodbye to my beautiful wife and my little krolik.”
Natasha stands from her seat and places a gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips. “Be safe,” she murmurs, not quite ready to part from her wife.
“I’ll be fine Nat, it’s just business as usual.”
Something about the two women in the same line of sight together made you feel weird. You had seen beautiful couples before, but you seem to be a little mesmerized by the sight of Natasha and Wanda. For now, you would say that it was just the shock of seeing Wanda after all these years and being blindsided by the news of her marriage.
“Have you changed too much to give me a hug before you go?”
The teasing tone in Wanda’s voice makes you roll your eyes. You walk over to her nonetheless, “I hugged you earlier, you know.”
Wanda doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug. “I know, but maybe two is too much for the new Y/n.”
You look up at her, maybe for a second too long, and you can’t help yourself, “Don’t worry, part of me is still your little krolik.”
A slight blush paints over her features as she smiles at you, “Good, keep my wife safe, ok?”
Your eyes cut to Natasha, “Of course, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
You walk out of the office with Wanda’s wife trailing closely behind you.
“So, are you going to show me what makes you the glue?”
Her words make smile tug on the edge of your lips, “If you’re lucky.”
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#pietro maximoff#kate bishop#clint barton
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Patterns II
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst
Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?
Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play
Length: ~9.9k
Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.
But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.
“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.
Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.
“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”
Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.
Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?
Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project
Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies
Y/N: and joy
Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”
“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.
Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”
“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.
“And?”
The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.
Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.
Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA
Y/N: Your honor free her!!!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand
Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)
Y/N: whore
But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…
Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.
Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?
Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.
—
The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.
As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.
The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.
The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.
A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.
“Okay, I need to go home.”
Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.
“Why?” You ask skeptically.
Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.
“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”
“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”
“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”
Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”
He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.
Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.
“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.
Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”
“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.
You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.
When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.
Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.
“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.
“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”
Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.
Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.
“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.
“Nope.”
“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.
“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.
Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”
“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”
Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”
“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.
“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”
You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”
“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.
“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”
“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.
“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.
Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.
“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.
Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything
Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.
Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite
Y/N: im not spooked so easily
Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.
The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.
Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.
A trio of voices echo down the hallway.
“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”
The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.
You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.
Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.
Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.
“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.
You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.
Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.
Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.
Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.
You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.
“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.
You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.
Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.
You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.
But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.
You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.
The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.
He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..
In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.
The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.
Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.
Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.
Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.
Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.
Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.
The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.
Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.
What is he waiting for? You think.
Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.
But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.
Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.
Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.
Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.
He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.
Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.
But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.
Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.
When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.
But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.
Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.
Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.
She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.
Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.
The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.
Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.
He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.
The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.
“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.
In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.
The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.
Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.
With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.
Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.
You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.
He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.
On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
Wonwoo: Next time?
Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait
The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.
On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.
More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?
But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.
Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.
Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.
His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.
When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.
Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.
When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.
Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.
Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.
Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.
The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.
A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.
MISSED CALL: Wonwoo
A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.
“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.
He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.
“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.
“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”
“Why?”
It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.
“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”
“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.
“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.
“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”
“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.
Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.
“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”
“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.
You wince, “Sorry.”
Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.
“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”
“Your landlord can’t let you in?”
“Not answering his phone.”
“And Mingyu?”
“Also not answering.”
After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.
Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”
Silence.
“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”
“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”
Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.
“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.
“Wai—”
Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.
Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.
It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”
The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.
“I was being an ass.”
“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.
“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”
Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.
“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.
“…Thanks.”
The call ends.
Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.
If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.
“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.
“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”
Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.
“Wait, let me get some towels.”
Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.
It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.
Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.
“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”
Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.
Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.
Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”
“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.
The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.
You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.
Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.
You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.
While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.
Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.
“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”
“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.
Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.
Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”
“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”
“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”
In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.
How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.
More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.
“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”
Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.
Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”
“You’re right.”
“What?” You choke.
“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.
You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.
“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”
Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”
“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.
“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.
He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.
“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”
“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.
You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.
Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”
“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”
Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.
“I’m a really, really good actress.”
A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.
Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.
A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.
Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.
Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.
He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”
Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.
Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.
“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.
His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.
A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.
Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.
Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.
Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.
Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.
Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.
“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.
You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.
“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”
Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.
Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.
Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.
Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.
“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.
You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.
Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.
Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.
You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.
Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.
Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.
“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”
The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.
“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”
The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.
Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.
You snap. “What the fuck?”
He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.
Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.
Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.
Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.
The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”
His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.
If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.
Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.
One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.
“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.
Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.
Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.
You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.
“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.
Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.
“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”
The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.
You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.
Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.
“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.
Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”
Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.
It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.
And you take it.
“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”
Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.
“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.
The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.
“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”
His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.
Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.
Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”
Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.
He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.
“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”
Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.
“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.
He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.
With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.
Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.
You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.
You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi
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All I Really Want Is You
older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -
Baby, I’m Yours
summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.
wc: 8k
warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.
author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡
🌇 <- chapter nine
The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:
Beginning of August
Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’ had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day.
It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.
It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.
The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today.
Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t need to rest.
The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.
The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.
Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.
“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.
His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it.
His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.
“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”
He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.
“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.
He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin.
“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off.
“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.
“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”
He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard.
“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.”
“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.
He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap.
“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.”
His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.
“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”
“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.
The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.
Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart.
Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.
He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.
“Come sleepover?”
The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response.
“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.
“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go.
Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.
It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.
Knock, knock, knock
They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.
“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.
His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.
“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.
He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.
“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”
You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.
“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.
“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.
The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.
Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.
He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle.
Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you.
He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.
“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand.
“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.
“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.
“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.
He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.
“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor.
Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.
“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”
His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.
“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.
The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around.
His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him.
The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.
“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.
He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.
‘I love you’.
He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.
The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.
Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.
Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.
“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth.
His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.
You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you.
“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.
A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.
“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”
His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps.
Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.
He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him.
“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”
You want that?
He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.
“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode.
What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?
“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.
“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”
He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.
He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.
Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again.
“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.”
He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch.
“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.
Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in.
It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel.
“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again.
“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.
His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.
“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh.
You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips.
Not yet.
He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.
“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.
“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.
“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.
“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”
He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.
Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.
Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.
Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach.
The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.
“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.
He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.
“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.
“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.
“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.
He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone.
“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size
“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”
Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.
“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”
His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.
“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.
“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’, rolling his back up in search for more.
“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan.
“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp.
He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.
“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.”
“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”
His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands.
You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.
“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!”
“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”
It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him.
“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs.
“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill.
“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.
“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.
“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”
You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.
“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable.
He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty.
“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten to say it first.
One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on.
He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.
The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this.
Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break.
“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.
All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them.
“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you.
Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever.
“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.
Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck.
It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.
The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass.
It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.
Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids.
It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:
“I love you, tough girl.”
🌇 -> epilogue
beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia
(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)
#my writing#all i really want is you series#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington slowburn#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harringont series
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WHERE'S YOUR PATIENCE? (7)
SUMMARY: You and Astarion finally have the conversation. Among other things.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,912
WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, little bit of hand stuff, vaginal sex, CONSENT IS SEXY, mentions of past sexual/physical trauma, potential spoilers for acts 1/2.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Say thank you to the 2 bottles of Corona and the tequila shot I took to loosen up my brain enough to write this smut. I couldn't have done it without them. (And also my bardic inspiration @imgoingtofreakoutnow)
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
-
The weeks following feel like an uphill battle —a never-ending course of constant information and action all tied into one long work month. Without warning, you find yourself overwhelmingly annoyed with the pace of it all. Not to mention the unwavering guilt, knowing that if you’re not fighting hordes of Absolute cultists or doing research on how to rip the Illithid out of your head, your time is essentially wasted.
Or at least, that’s what it feels like.
Considering the severity of everything, even when you’re resting from a long day's work, you always find your mind wandering. Picking apart texts from old books you’ve found during infiltration missions. Oftentimes late at night when Astarion’s come back from feeding, you spend a lot of your time together relaying said thoughts. Using the late-night silence to fuel the drive that’s been missing throughout the day.
By the time you get to the Inn within the Shadowlands, you’re surprised he’s not sick of you for it. Nowadays, just the mere thought of your own voice makes you want to rip off your ears, and although you know it’s crucial that you discuss things like this, you know there are other things that are important too.
Like your shared confession. And your promise to talk of the past when you were both ready.
Since that night you haven’t asked him about it. With everything happening so quick, it’s been pushed to the back of your mind —lost amongst the clutter of thoughts that you’re often forced to leave behind. Deep down, you imagine he’s somewhat in the same boat but still, there’s even more guilt that surfaces. Filling both sides of the spectrum like an overflowing glass of water —so much so that by the time you’re gifted a proper night’s rest in an actual bed you’re already too tired to care.
As soon as you enter the Inn after your journey through the cursed shadows of the forest you head straight to the bar, barely batting an eye at the barkeep who looks you up and down, horrified by the state of your dress.
“Whiskey, please.”
“And… whatever else you got back there that doesn’t taste of fermentation.”
You turn to see Astarion already standing beside you, moving his hand to the small of your back to usher you into one of the stools. Immediately, you oblige with a sigh, blinking back sleep as you rest your bloodied elbows on the countertop, earning yourself a look of annoyance that Astarion squashes with an unfriendly scowl, showcasing his canine teeth.
If you weren’t so exhausted you probably would’ve laughed at such a sight, but considering you are, you instead let out a soft hum and down your whiskey when it’s placed in front of you, signalling for another.
“I see you’ve already decided how you’re going to spend your night off.”
Nodding your head, you barely register his words, slumping your damp forehead down against the counter with a groan. “How the fuck are we even alive?”
It’s a fair question when you take into account all that you’ve been through. All the puzzles and battles and endless expectations to now save all of Baldur’s Gate just to get these damned Illithids out of your head.
At this rate, you and everyone else should’ve been dead ages ago. Either murdered and looted for your tadpoles and their powers or already turned into tentacle-faced beasts. Not sitting next to Astarion, covered in blood, sweat and tears, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to keep going. How you’re meant to keep this unrealistic momentum of burnout over and over and—
He runs his palm along the base of your spine, drawing his fingers up and down as he takes a sip of his drink. “Hells if I know, darling.”
Feeling a bit delirious, you laugh and raise your head to look between him and the new drink in front of you. “We should’ve been dead by now.”
“You? Perhaps. Me?” He pauses to dig his digits into your aching neck, making your head fall forward again in delight. “Well, I have far too much to do after all of this is over.”
“Yeah, like what?”
When he doesn’t answer right away you remember the conversation. That moment by the fire where you kissed and confessed and told each other you’d talk about it. Immediately it fills you with anxiety, clouding your features with a worried brow and frowning lips as you crane your neck to the side.
When you look at him you notice he’s not really there. His eyes sit in their normal position, staring back but there’s nothing. Not a thought or feeling; just two empty voids surrounded by bloodied dissociation.
It pulls at your heartstrings far too much —makes you let out a breath and raise your frame to slip off the stool and move to hug him. Despite the lack of attention, he manages to follow suit as it happens, wrapping his arms around your neck as you burrow into his chest, once again sighing, wondering if you should apologize and offer your ear or merely forget the exchange entirely.
Before you can even think to do either he’s standing up, keeping his hold as he grabs your other whiskey and proceeds to drink it down, barely batting an eye.
Raising your brow at him, you feel his fingers dig into your neck again, rubbing rough circles that have you resting your forehead against his chest, trying to form any semblance of a thought.
It makes him laugh and raise his hand to your hair, running his fingers through the roots. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
You’re already off and climbing the stairs before you’re able to answer. Pushing through the pain that radiates through your calves with every step. Leaning against him with tired eyes that eventually open up when the door creaks open in front you of.
Somehow you managed to earn yourself a private room. One that’s actually clean with a real bed and a tub —all of which almost have you in tears.
“Nice of them to give us some privacy, hm?” Astarion smirks down at you as he speaks, watching as you roll your eyes and finally pull yourself away, reaching for the clasps of your leather vest. Like the rest of you, it’s coated in a thick layer of dirt and blood. All of it dried and coming off in disgusting clumps that have you scrunching up your face. Brushing off the top few clasps, you try not to focus on the way it feels against your fingers. How it collects under your nails as you narrow your eyes, struggling to get the damned thing off.
It makes him scoff and pull you back in, pushing your hands aside to undo the first clasp. “I feel as though I recall a time where you claimed to be patient?”
As he moves down to the next one you shake your head and look away. “Emotionally, yes. Physically I—“
“I’d say you’re far more patient in that regard, actually.”
For a second you’re not sure what he means but then it hits you. He means sex. Physical intimacy. A line of which you hadn’t yet crossed due to several things. The main being your lack of conversation —your lack of focus to a promise you both said you wouldn't break.
Obviously, the lack of time hasn’t helped either, but as you stand there, watching his fingers pull apart your top layer, you find yourself visibly frustrated. Angry at yourself for not taking the time to offer the piece of yourself you desperately want.
After that night it was always your intention to go first. To tell him all about your past in order to open the floodgates. You figured if you were brave enough to do it —to be the one to bite the bullet— maybe he’d inevitably follow.
But then life got in the way and now nearly five weeks later it suddenly feels like you’re stuck in this limbo. One where you’re dancing on the edge, teetering with bated breath. Wondering if maybe the time is right.
As his hands move further and further you find yourself fighting your imagination. Brushing off the feelings that start to surface as you stare down at his hands, watching their delicate ministrations.
It’s apparent then that he's no stranger to the art of undress. As his fingers twist and turn to work the clasps apart, you have to stop yourself from giving in to temptation, knowing that it’s wrong. Remembering the promise you made.
Moving your hand to stop him, you clear your throat and watch his eyes. Noticing the way they filter through the air to eventually focus on you, blinking as if he wasn’t there to begin with.
“Can we talk now? Maybe?”
His hands sit against your leathers, gripping the metal with tightened fingers that still somehow manage to pale from their hold despite his complexion. “Course.”
Running your fingers along his knuckles, you slowly wrap your fists around them, bringing them up toward your mouth to place soft kisses despite the mess of battle that lingers. Then you drag him further into the room, placing him on the edge of the bed.
“Do you know who Beshaba is?” you ask, plain and simple, unsure how else to start the conversation of your past as you sit beside him.
“The deity?”
You nod, slowly, letting your gaze anxiously fall to your lap. “I grew up in one of her churches after my parents died. Learned everything I know about the world from a priestess named Hessa.”
As you try your best to further collect your thoughts, Astarion leans in, narrowing his eyes at the way your hands start to shake against your thigh.
“Is she the one in your dream?” he asks.
Without hesitation, you nod. “They thrive on infliction,” you explain after, watching him frown. Taking in the way his demeanour changes without warning to become something you’re not quite sure you've seen before. “Their doctrine revolves around fear. If you don’t participate you’re expected to endure only pain and misfortune.”
You remember growing up underneath all these women, listening to their cautionary tales of Beshaba’s terror. It instilled fear in you from the get-go —taught you that the only way to endure the horrors of this life was to devote yourself to her. To offer everything you could in exchange for peace, so you did. Unwaveringly so.
“As a child, I grew up listening to these women scare everyone for the sake of their goddess.” You pause to swallow, feeling the memories of Hessa’s knife each time you later disobeyed, slice across your skin. “Then, as an adult, I followed the cycle.”
“Willingly?”
You shrug your shoulders. “At first.”
You remember as soon as you were old enough you were sent out to recruit. To trick the minds of all the simple folk, weaving fabricated tales of disasters that were carried out by Beshaba’s hand. It was difficult to do. Seeing all those ruined minds come crawling to you for salvation —begging for forgiveness in the form of eternal loyalty.
Thankfully though, it grew old pretty quickly. The formula of travelling Faerûn, following the endless calamity and blaming it on the lack of faith was enough to pull you out of the fog. As each day passed, it became increasingly hard to pretend your faith was still intact, so you formulated a plan.
“When we arrived in Baldur’s Gate I tried to leave. In the middle of the night I abandoned my sisters —tried to run and never look back but…”
There’s a moment where your mouth just closes, trailing from the memories of your story; straying solely to the image of Hessa. To her hands and face each time she broke you apart and put you back together.
Without even trying you can feel her next to you, whispering her teachings in your ear —touching your scars with calloused hands. Her voice still has that icy hold on you even when you’re far away, keeping you still as she forces you down to kneel on the stone floor and await your punishment.
A punishment you’ll always feel you deserve. Even now that you’ve well and truly denounced the faith. Deep down you still feel the guilt of your exit. The pain of having to carry the trauma of an existence you never had the choice of living. To this day, it still eats away through the scars that line your stomach. Boring lines of betrayal across your skin.
The last thing you want to do is cry, but as the reminder of such abuse continues to penetrate your mind you find the tears falling anyway. Collecting at the edges of your eyes so quickly that you’re forced to close them in order to reset your vision.
As you do you feel Astarion wrapping himself completely around you. Pulling you into his chest with heavy hands that feel nothing like hers. Reminding you that you’re safe. That you’re here with him and nobody else.
“Is this wretched woman still stationed in Baldur’s?”
You feel his fingers on your chin, pulling your face up so that he can see you when you nod, holding back tears.
“Good. Then our destinations align.”
His voice sounds different. Instead of the usual softness or flirtation, it’s spoken through clenched teeth that strain against his throat, somehow feeling almost like a threat. An unspoken but well-articulated phrase of warning that has you sniffing and wiping your eyes. “What do you mean?”
At first, you figure he’s talking about the Illithid. The urgent need to get to Baldur’s Gate before time runs out. But then you’re ripped back to reality —to the moments where he’s briefly mentioned his desire to return home. To finish whatever business he has after this timely journey is over.
“The person who sent the hunter—“
He practically spits out his name. Cazador Szarr. A man you’re unfortunately well aware of given his reputation.
After arriving in Baldur’s Gate it was common knowledge to avoid him and his property. As awful as your church was about promoting the misfortunes of others, they made it very clear not to get involved. According to them, he was an unholy man —one that could never fully be understood due to the obvious seclusion of his person.
To this day, you've always wondered what lies behind those doors of his. What sinister things he was up to throughout the years.
However, when you look at Astarion —when you see the way his rage suddenly seems to know no bounds, you know it’s bad. Worse than bad considering Astarion hardly ever gets angry. Sure, annoyance and frustration often come out but anger —real anger— never does.
“When you told me that you wished I didn’t know what it felt like, I didn’t realize how similar our experiences were.” His fingers rub rough circles into your flesh, distracting his mind as he lets out a breath and continues. “I didn’t know the level of your pain.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“I know.”
His voice cracks. Your heart breaks. Then, both of you sit in another wave of silence, letting the words previously spoken sit at your feet as you stare at one another, trying to gauge what happens next.
You don’t anticipate his hands moving to his armour. Nor do you retain any sense of restraint when you reach to follow them, both of you working to pry it off before he pulls his tunic over his head.
Despite being on the road together for so long you’ve never seen him bare like this. So open and willing to prove to you that he's here. With you, here’s here and ready to share whatever you think you need.
Embarrassingly, it makes you want to cry all over again, reaching for his face. Feeling that familiar coolness beneath your touch as he turns to rest both hands on your hips again.
“It’s been so long since I’ve willingly wanted this.”
“This?” You look at him confused.
“To be intimate.” His fingers tighten around your flesh, digging into the plush ever so slightly. “To share the act of sex with another rather than exploit it.”
There’s a small smile that creeps through then. An inkling of hope for the vampire’s happiness as you inch in closer, placing the softest kiss you can muster to his cheek. “But you’re nervous?”
“Terribly,” he admits with a heavy breath. “In the span of 200 years I’ve bed countless men and women —all of them willing. All of them happy to have enjoyed my body only to end up at death’s door.”
It’s a lot to take in —the admittance of his faults. As soon as the first detail is uttered it’s as if the floodgates open and he’s telling you everything. From the moment he was turned and forced to crawl from his grave to the years that followed luring person after person into the Szarr home for a master so cruel you immediately wish to kill him.
“I spent so long under that bastard’s thumb that… I don’t even know who I am anymore. How I’m meant to be now that I’ve attained even the slightest bit of freedom.”
You understand how he feels. Perhaps the levels are different but deep within there’s always been this nagging feeling of how you’re supposed to live your life. How you feel as though you should be travelling the world in search of a new purpose rather than once again fulfilling someone else’s.
But then you remember what’s at stake. And how even someone else’s fate can affect your livelihood. Then it’s as if the cycle repeats itself, constantly reminding you that if you don’t participate then that’s the end. Your freedom is null just as Astarion’s, leaving you to wonder what’s the point of it all.
“I think people like you and I are just meant to live.” Your hands move up to touch his hair. Carefully, you grip his curls between your fingers, pressing the pads into his skull as you run them down, hearing him sigh. “To enjoy what little time we have.”
“Little?” He raises his brow with a smirk. “Darling, I’m immortal.”
“True but you could still become a Mind-flayer like the rest of us.”
“Fair point.”
He seems calmer now. The usual persona of his overbearing personality coming through, making you grin.
Instead of tightly wound he’s relaxed under your hold, practically melting against your touch as he lowers himself to rest on your shoulder. As he does, you end up catching a glimpse of his back, fully seeing Cazador’s work in the form of rough, red etchings that coat his entire spine.
You have to force yourself not to ask about them until he’s ready, tightening the hold you have around his head as you riddle his face in kisses, letting your lips linger against his temple as you close your eyes.
“They’re not as bad as they look,” he says then, somehow reading your mind.
As painful as it is to admit, you know he’s right. Compared to other scars you’ve seen his look undeniably perfect. The way they paint the image of what looks to be some sort of sigil against his pale flesh. Despite the violence endured to create such a piece, it’s obvious that there was care put in too. A meticulous hand working away with the precision of someone borderline obsessed.
If it wasn’t the result of abuse you could even call it beautiful. But since it’s not, you only continue to hold him, gripping his face for dear life, wondering what kind of pain he had to suffer to earn such a massive reminder of his ownership.
“Do you know what it is?”
He lifts his head, looking at you like he’s seeking the answer himself. “A brand I’m guessing. Not that I can tell. Unlike you I can’t use a mirror. Nor can I very well reach to trace the damned thing myself.”
Your fingers twitch at his words, feeling the temptation to touch them grow as you remember your own scars. In terms of appearance, they’re much more rigid. Three jagged lines that cover the middle of your stomach, making sure you remember. Ensuring your mind that every day you live on this earth —every new moment spent thinking that you’re worthy of whatever this is between you— that you’ll never be normal.
The moment they dug that first knife into your gut you were marked for life. Branded just like him.
Swallowing hard you force yourself to slip away from his grasp, watching the confusion that erupts before the understanding starts as you shakily discard your leather layer and throw your tunic over your head.
It takes everything in you not to put it back on when you see the look on Astarion’s face. How it studies you with knitted brows and a clenched jaw that makes you want to hold him again.
“Mine are just… lines. They don’t mean anything.” As you motion to the thick slashes that have been carved over countless times you catch his gaze twitching upward, taking in the exhaustion.
“She did this?”
After you nod you feel his hand move forward, ever so gently grazing the top of the centre line with curiosity. “How many times?”
“I don’t remember.”
“But you remember how it felt?”
You press your lips together, breathing through your nose. Sucking in the Inn’s dusty air before blowing it out as you nod, forcing back the memory. Pushing through the pain as your tadpole squirms, asking to let him in.
Like all the other feelings you’ve shared as of late, it’s been so long since you’ve felt his presence like this. Even with the Illithid’s constant use outside of each other, when he calls out to you it’s completely different. The movement behind your eye doesn’t feel like an annoyance. It feels like a call. A tingle of hope that has you answering before you can even question what it is he might want.
When you answer there’s a warmth that hits your skin. Enveloping you completely, you feel the aching of the heat carry through your extremities, cascading down in anxious pools that have you breathing rather hard. Closing your eyes, you see the image of Astarion’s hands in front of you. Slowly he wiggles his fingers and turns his palms, taking in the fact that he’s safely under the sun, despite what he is.
You realize then that this is the first memory he has of freedom. Of a life where he truly believes the tether’s been severed. All the thoughts inside his mind are full of nerves. Building anxieties of the past and the future being interrupted by a present he never thought was possible.
It’s a memory that stirs you to move. To guide his hands to your waist as you crawl into his lap and grab his chin.
Touching his skin you feel that same warmth flow through to your core. Letting it take over all the thoughts of scarring and owners and the lives you’ve both lived to get to this point, it takes away your breath. Pulls from you the needs of anything but him.
In this moment, none of it matters anymore. Every experience is nothing more than a dimming shadow compared to the sensation of his breath wafting over your face as you angle your head down to look at him.
“Do you want this?”
His tongue darts out to line his lips. His hunger growing at the sight of you —at the feeling of you moulded to him like melting wax just cool enough to touch. “Yes.”
“So it’s okay if I—“
There’s a hand in your hair before you can finish, forcing you down to his mouth. It’s rough at first but quickly softens once he’s got you where he wants you. Firmly set atop his thighs and in his grasp. Allowing him enough access to reach up and touch the edge of your neck, his thumb lingering towards the centre to press a soft touch —reminding you that you have to breathe. That the usage of your lungs is no longer second nature but something you actively have to think about through the open-mouthed kisses that work to take it all away.
Your head dizzies at the feeling. All at once your vision blurs while your hands begin to roam, stretching over skin and bone, eventually hitting raised scars that make you kiss him even harder, knowing it’s what he needs. What he deserves after countless years of loveless encounters. After touches, empty of anything resembling the adoration you wish to offer him.
While laying waste to his bruising lips, you clumsily slide down his lap so that you’re standing on the ground, tucked between his open legs and bending forward.
Confused, you feel his face twist against your own, prompting you to pull away and lower yourself further, letting your knees gently come in contact with the floor.
“I was enjoying you where you were,” he muses then, cocking his head to focus on the way your hands begin to slide up over his knees, resting on each outer thigh.
“And now you’ll enjoy me over here.” You smirk.
“Cheeky pup.”
“The cheekiest.”
After that, you shuffle closer and reach for his belt, keeping eye contact every step of the way to make sure you aren’t stepping over any boundaries.
The last thing you’d want is to make him feel uncomfortable —to feel used in all the ways he used to experience. So you combat all that by checking in; offering him subtle glances every time you take the next step.
You can tell immediately that he’s appreciative. Whenever he nods there’s a faint smile that sits across his lips, offering you approval as your fingers knock against the metal clasp of his belt, shakily moving to open it up.
At some point he ends up doing it himself, leaning forward to kiss your forehead and laugh at the nerves that render your fingers useless. Nerves that only spread when you stare up at his face while his hands busily move the strap aside.
After tossing his belt aside he doesn’t let you go further. Instead, he drags you further between his legs, leaning down to cup your cheeks and kiss you all over again.
It’s distracting, to say the least. The feeling of his lips moving in tandem with your own as he reaches around to rid you of your bra with two quick swipes, leaving you just as bare as him.
It sends a shiver down your spine that makes him smirk, his upper lip quirking against yours before he gently bites down making you groan.
“Can’t let you be the only one with a view,” he mutters against you, making you awkwardly laugh as you watch his gaze lower to your naked chest. “Can I, pet?”
“No, I suppose not.”
Your voice sounds anything but confident as his hands continue their descent, matching your previous desires when they linger at your belt, waiting for you to give him the okay.
When you do he makes quick work, unclasping the belt with skillful hands before lightly smacking your ass, signalling you to stand before he carefully slides the rest of it down, thumbing the edges of your legs.
You have to force yourself not to cry out right then and there, feeling overwhelmed by the soft touch of his fingers. How they barely graze the outer parts of your already parting thighs, stopping at your knees when he looks up at you with a smirk.
“You seem nervous, darling.”
Rolling your eyes, you shove an open palm to his chest, pushing him back against the bed with a scoff. One that makes him laugh and watch as you kick off the remainder of the fabric, trying to appear brave. Something that proves to be harder than you anticipate when he swiftly follows suit, giving you a show of your own in the form of freshly exposed skin you’ve only ever imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.
In almost an instant, the fabric slips away, revealing more of him than you possibly could’ve expected, making your mind wander as the building arousal between your thighs twitches with desire. Telling you that you need this.
You open your mouth to ask for more only to be yanked upon his lap causing a yelp to fall from your lips that makes you both laugh.
“You really are a marvel, aren’t you?”
With a smile, his eyes scan your naked frame. Up and down and back, they linger at every part as if he’s studying you for future use. Taking mental notes with each passing freckle or scar that lines the length of bare skin. “I mean truly, look at you.”
As he speaks, one hand runs along your neck —over your shoulder and down your arm until it’s resting at your thigh, gripping you tight. “I’m not sure what God out there decided to make you but remind me to give them my utmost thanks after this is over.”
When he leans in you have to force yourself not to nervously laugh at his praise, once again feeling his lips find refuge on your own, driving you to take things further. Encouraging you to make him feel as good as he deserves.
This time though, instead of asking for approval with a glance you do so with a touch, reaching down to grip the end of his length with gentle hands that make him moan. Ever so quietly, the second you hear it you immediately strengthen your hold, using your free hand to grip his shoulder as you work him slowly, noticing him push. Feeling the subtle arc of his hips buck against your hand, wanting more.
For a moment you think about doing it. Letting your hand tighten further while you pick up the pace. It’d be easy. Nothing more than a simple readjustment but something mischievous stops you from doing it.
Remembering that night at the grove —the one where he relentlessly teased just to get a rise out of you— you find yourself smirking and pulling away, gripping his shoulder even tighter to keep him in place.
Almost immediately, he knows exactly what you’re doing. He can feel it in the way you languidly pull at his cock, barely holding on with each stroke.
“You think you’re clever, do you?”
You quirk your brow and bite your lip, massaging the apex of his shoulder. “I have to be if I’m going to be hanging around you.”
Furthering his torment, you then tighten your grip for a couple more pumps before returning to your previous pace, eliciting a hiss of disapproval that has him gripping both your hips and maneuvering you to sit against his right thigh.
“Oh really?”
Pushing up into your core, Astarion shifts you back and forth with his hands, making your breath catch inside your throat once you realize what you’ve done. How you’ve instantly set yourself up for a failure you know he’ll only revel in winning.
Considering he’s more than capable of making you fluster solely with words, you should’ve expected this —saw it coming from a mile away.
Continuing your ministrations as lazily as possible, he barely registers them as he glides your folds against his leg. Holding you down, he manages to apply the perfect amount of pressure to build the tension, making you press your lips tightly together, forcing back any sound that might be deemed a loss.
Even though it’s anything but a competition. A detail that’s reminded once he maneuvers one of his hands to cup your sex, rubbing rough circles into your clit.
It makes you lose all semblance of thought, forgetting the hold you have on his cock as you shakily reach for his other shoulder, steadying yourself against him.
“Doesn’t it feel nice when you give in?”
Despite the context, there’s surprisingly no snark to his words. No sarcasm or bite —just genuine thought. A question so true to its word that all you can do is pant through the building pleasure and nod; letting him raise you off his leg and station himself at your entrance.
It fills your mind to the brim with needs and wants you never thought you’d feel again. Having been subjected to abuse and then forced upon a journey you’re still not sure you’re ready for, the thought of attachments like this never once crossed your mind.
Even after everything you’d been through, you never thought Astarion was capable of such tenderness —of loving care and safekeeping. Of gentle touches that run across your aching skin as he looks at you and you at him, both of you deciding it’s okay.
As soon as it’s given, he’s sliding into you. Painfully slow, he uses the approval to grant you access to your shared pleasure, pushing through the tightness just as you open your mouth.
“Feel alright?”
Your fingers press against his neck as they slide up to cup his chin so you can pull your foreheads together. “More than alright.”
Through an unsteady breath, he laughs and guides you further down, allowing you both to savour the sensation for a moment before pulling back out again.
As soon as he’s missing you’re already longing for more. Desperate for the fill of his cock, prompting a whine to escape; earning yourself a tut.
“Remember patience?”
You do. More than anything in this moment you remember your claim and how foolish it was to think he wouldn’t forget it.
“I recall you saying—"
“Astarion, please.”
You’re not sure if it’s the anguish in your voice or the squirming of your hips that does it, but almost instantly he’s giving in. Once again offering you exactly what you need in the form of a push and pull so viscerally satisfying you’re left slumped against his chest, keeping hold of his neck. Forcing his hand to grip the back of your head to see the way he ruts inside of you.
It’s a sight that’s almost too much. One that makes you moan and close your eyes, allowing him to move your face to his. At which point you’re on the precipice of ruin. Both body and mind becoming a mess of everything and nothing, forcing your breath to falter.
You can tell Astarion’s in the same boat, struggling to maintain his starting pace the longer you mindlessly grind against him, unable to contribute much of anything else.
Together, the two of you try to move in unison, pushing and pushing —inhaling and exhaling. Anything you can do to share the burden of the building pleasure that grows and grows until—
When it hits, it feels better than you imagined. Deep within there’s a blooming that unfolds, petal by petal, opening to reveal unholy tremors that make you release a heavy plume of air through your closed lips.
Gripping you close, you can feel Astarion follow quickly behind, twitching inside before he inevitably spills out, making both of you groan and fall back onto the bed in a fit of nervous laughter before he cheekily suggests you make use of the tub.
-
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#where's your patience?#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion fan fic#astarion series#astarion x female reader#astarion x reader#astarion x you#summer writes
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Just Pretend-Twenty Three
*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: PHASE II comes to an end! Strap in everyone, PHASE III is going to be a smutty ride. Also, please listen to Just Pretend on a constant loop for this chapter. ESPECIALLY AT THE THIRD PERSON POV SECTION. Then you all will finally understand what I meant about 2:23.
PLEASE READ MY JOLLY TWO PART FIC FIKA BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO CHAPTER-24!
FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.
We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.
🪽🔮
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses
JOLLY
As I stood in front of my mirror, I did my best to brush down the stray hairs so it could lay straight with the others. Tonight was important, for some more than others, but regardless, we all wanted to look our best. Noah was more nervous than any of us, only because in his mind he had more to lose.
“What if she doesn't show up?” He asked this morning during breakfast, moving his scrambled eggs around with his fork.
Jesse rubbed his shoulder. “She will, Noah. You have to stop doubting her. She’ll be there tonight.”
My phone went off in my hand and my heart skipped a beat when I peaked at the name.
I hope you have fun at your party tonight. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in bed sick. Had to close down early.
Attached was a picture of what seemed like her bedroom; a television perched up on a black wall with a wide variety of plants around it. She was watching Harry Potter; I immediately noticed which one and what scene.
Not wanting to overthink, I quickly snapped a picture of myself in the mirror before sending it to her.
“Now why are you, out of all people, smiling at your phone?” Nicholas wondered as he leaned against the door frame of my bedroom.
Sliding my phone back into the pocket of my black jeans, I stared at him unamused.
“Oh,” his eyes lit up. “Is it-?”
“Shut up,” I grumbled while gathering up my things.
Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Almost ready?”
“Yeah. How’s Noah?” I wondered while we descended the stairs and came to a halt in the living room.
“He’s okay, I think,” Nicholas sighed while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Nervous, though. We tried telling him that Y/N will be there but you know him; he won’t believe it until his eyes set on her.”
I nodded. “I’ll talk to him and meet you at the car.”
Making my way towards the master suite which was secluded off the back hallway, I could hear Noah muttering to himself. The privacy of where this bedroom was located was one of the main reasons we let Noah have it. It was on a different floor than the rest of us so when Y/N eventually moved in, they could feel like it was just the two of them.
With a soft knock on his open door, Noah peered up from burning holes into the ground.
“Hey, are you ready?”
He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his phone lying next to him on the bed, the Calm app opened and playing, but his knee continued to bounce at a rapid pace. His once-styled hair was now a disheveled mess thanks to his hands running through it.
Noah motioned to his phone. “I’m listening to the new section of “calming your mind when you feel like you’re going to ruin everything.”
“Is that the real name of the section?” I crossed my arms over my chest
He hesitated. “No”
I pinched my eyes shut with a sigh. “Noah-.”
“I’m fine,” he reassured me by rising to his feet. “I just needed to collect my thoughts.”
“Are you nervous about the release?”
“No,” Noah fidgeted with the silver chain around his wrist. “What if she-.”
I pushed myself off the door and stepped into his bedroom, laying my hands on his shoulders; they were shaking.
“Y/N will be there. She confirmed it with me and Nicholas. Stop worrying, alright? Everything will be fine.”
“I know. I’m excited, trust me. I just want tonight to go right. For the album and Y/N. She deserves a good man, and I want to be that.”
“You are, Noah. Look what you’ve done here,” I motioned to his room. “You set up her vanity, you bought her plants, you bought her cat a fucking cat tree that takes up half the wall in the living room. You’re doing everything right.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Y/N thinks I’m pretty awesome. I am awesome, to be honest,” he chuckled.
“And there he is!” I patted his shoulder. “You didn’t go anywhere. You’re simply trying to navigate the new you with another person. Trust yourself. Trust Y/N.”
With a firm nod, I motioned to his outfit. “Ready to go?”
Noah ran a hand through his hair, still getting used to the short length.
“Yeah, I think so. Do I look okay?”
I peered down at his choice of outfit. It was from the new stack of clothes he bought earlier in the week. A snug black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showcasing his tattoos. The black dress pants were snug as well. A simple outfit but enough for Y/N.
“Maybe we should stay at Matt’s or even Malcolm’s place tonight,” I joked.
He rolled his eyes while playfully pushing my shoulder as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Oh, did she finally decide to be your date tonight?” Noah tried to peer at my phone.
I turned it away from him. “No, actually she’s home in bed sick.”
He stepped into his closet only to reappear with a pair of shoes in his hand. “We can bring her some soup. Or some of those Swedish desserts she made. Fuck, those were good.”
“Are you ready yet?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Everyone is waiting on us.”
Noah patted himself down as he went over his mental checklist. “Shit, I need cologne. Two minutes.”
I reread Malcolm's text message as he ran into his adjoined bathroom.
Malcolm: We’ll be a little late. Y/N’s getting ready now but we’ll be there.
Me: See you guys soon.
“Ready?” Noah asked, stepping out of the bathroom.
I nodded while pocketing my phone again. “Yep.”
MALCOLM
“I fucking hate this shit.”
Stepping out of the hallway bathroom, I wandered down the long hallway towards the living room where I noticed Chase standing in front of the mirror next to the front door; an undone tie hanging loosely around his neck.
“Why the fuck do I have to wear a tie?” He grumbled when he saw my reflection in the mirror.
I chuckled before slinking up behind him and gently turning him to face me. “It’s a big night, Chase. The least we can do is dress up for our friends.”
He let out a deep sigh but nodded. “I know. I’m just not a suit and tie kind of guy.”
I paused mid-tying his tie before gazing at his black suit with a red shirt underneath. Tossing the tie onto the couch, I unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, the ink of his chest piece peeking through with the gold chain he wore all the time.
“Babe, I love you,” Chase started. “But we don’t have time for that.”
Ignoring him, I smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Leave the jacket open like this. It looks better.”
He pointed to my burgundy three-piece suit. “You’ve been waiting for a moment to break this one out.”
I snorted while tying my long auburn hair back into a bun. “Damn straight.”
Chase laid a gentle kiss on my lips before he retreated into the kitchen to pop open a Celsius. “Did you text Jolly?”
“Yeah. The plan is still set. We should be getting there before their song plays,” I said.
“Cool.”
Chase nodded but I could tell something else was weighing on him.
“What’s going on?” I asked while sitting against the back of the couch.
“I’m worried about tonight,” he admitted after a long beat. “It’s been a long time coming. After all the bullshit and miscommunication, I just want things to go perfectly. She deserves that.”
“It will, Chase. But it’s not up to us. We can get her there but the rest is on them,” I said.
He ran a tattooed hand over his buzzed head. “I know, I know. How is she doing, anyway?”
“I think she’s okay,” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Nervous, though.”
Chase tossed the empty can into the recycling before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you think she’ll love what Noah did? With the house and everything?”
“Of course, she will. Noah-.”
“Now what are you two handsome boys talking about?” The clicking of heels against the floor echoed in our apartment.
Both Chase and I turned our attention to her and he let out a low whistle. Y/N stood in front of us, decked out in full nines for tonight. The dress she wore gilded along the floor as she walked farther into the room. There was a long slit on the left side of her dress, showcasing the newest tattoo she got on the last tour with Joe. As she gave us a full 360, we marveled at the low-cut back of the dress that showcased her entire back and the large snake tattoo. With the thin straps, the tattoos on her arms were on full display tonight as well.
“Oh, sweets! Look at you.”
Y/N brushed her palms against the smooth material of her red dress. “Does it look okay? Is it too revealing? I feel like there may be too much boob with this dress and the open back-.”
“Y/N,” I stood straighter. “You look absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Noah will love it; you know how much he loves the color red.”
Chase agreed as he left a soft kiss on the side of her head, careful not to mess up the perfect curls. “He’s gonna pass out the minute he sees you.”
“I don’t think so,” she tried to argue, wringing her hands together.
“Sweets, you are the moon and he's constantly in your orbit. It’s just you two. All the time,” I said while grasping her hands, and holding them to my chest.
Y/N’s gaze darted back and forth between mine, the darkness of her eyeshadow making the color of her eyes pop, and she finally nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I do look good in this.”
“There she is!” Chase hollered while handing over her jacket.
“Fuck the record! You’re gonna be the belle of the ball,” I cheered.
We all shared a laugh but as soon as we were about to leave, Salem came bounding down the hall, the bell of his collar ringing loudly.
“Remind me to ask Noah why he chose the one collar with the loudest bell,” Chase grumbled.
Ignoring him, I watched as Y/N bent down low when Salem brushed himself against her leg; his way of saying goodbye.
“Bye, baby. I’m going to see your dad.” She mused while kissing his head, not caring if she messed up her deep red lipstick.
When Salem meowed, I peered over to Chase, who was already watching the two of them with his own fond smile. I snaked my hand behind his neck to pull him in for a kiss, one that always took our breath away.
“I love you,” I muttered against his lips.
Chase rarely ever smiled, only for me and Y/N, so when he did now my heart fluttered in my chest like it always did.
“I love you too,” he placed another kiss on my lips. “Alright, let’s go. We don’t want the belle being late to her own ball.”
Y/N walked out of the apartment before us however before I could follow, Chase held me back.
“I’ll bet you $5 they meet in the middle of the fucking room like some rom-com.”
I scoffed while patting his chest. “I’ll bet you $5 they start making out 15 minutes in.”
“You’re on.”
We sealed our deal with another kiss before Y/N’s voice rang out in the front yard, the stars and moon casting her in an angelic glow.
“Come on lovebirds! I can’t be late! My prince is waiting!”
THIRD PERSON POV
Y/N smiled politely as she maneuvered her way through the crowd of familiar faces. The House of Blues was packed tonight with people here to support Bad Omens. Their third album was minutes away from being released for the public and for everyone in this room to hear. It was a huge, long-awaited event so they threw this party together for their closest friends and other musicians that were signed to the same label as them.
“Y/N!” A somewhat familiar face beamed with their arms outstretched.
Y/N cursed when she couldn’t remember this girl's name although she did remember they were signed to the same label.
“Hi,” Y/N smiled. “It’s so good to see you-.”
Chase muttered low in her ear. “Reign. Guitarist for Tonight We Sleep.
“Reign!” Y/N nodded.
“I heard Hollow Souls was on tour with nothing, nowhere. How was that?” Reign wondered.
“It was a great time. But we’re thankful to be back home for a few months,” Malcolm answered.
Can you see yourself?
Through the bruises when the makeup melts?
In the dark when all the powers out?
Everybody talks and gets around.
As Malcolm and Chase continued their conversation with Reign, Y/N froze when Noah's melodic voice echoed through the speakers of the venue. The richness of it was something she’d never heard from him. She had only heard two of their new songs so far, this one was new to her. She couldn’t help but feel frozen as she let the beat of the music hit low in her chest.
Across the room, Noah was doing his best to remain professional as someone who was a friend of a friend kept commenting on how wonderful the first song sounded.
“I love what I’ve heard so far!”
Noah nodded with a firm smile. “Thank you. Also, thank you for coming out tonight. Means a lot to me and the rest of the guys.”
After politely excusing himself, he found Jolly off in a different spot of the venue, typing away on his phone.
“Any luck?” He wondered.
Jolly rested a hand on Noah’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’ll be here, man. You need to stop stressing out about it and enjoy the party. We made it. We’re finally here after writing this album for the last two years.”
Noah stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants and nodded while keeping his head down, dark tendrils of hair falling into his face. “I know.”
Only a few feet behind the two men stood Chase and Y/N who were busy chatting with Bryan and Matt.
“I really like the new look, Y/N,” Matt smiled as he motioned to her hair.
She smiled with a red hue to her cheeks and tucked a strand behind her ear. “Thank you. I thought I was due for one.”
“How was tour?” Bryan asked.
Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours
Why I never got a say, never got a choice?
Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours
And why I never ever got a fucking say?
Chase’s conversation with the other two fell on deaf ears as Y/N once again stood frozen as the familiar lyrics touched her ears. The haunting memory of when she first heard it in her car all those months ago was still fresh, like an aching wound that hadn’t freshly healed yet. She wouldn’t hold that lapse in judgment over Noah, not when they both were trying to heal from dark moments of their pasts.
Quietly excusing herself from the guys, Y/N wandered over to the mini bar, the ends of her red dress flowing behind her.
“Hi, what can I get you?” The young man with bright green eyes behind the bar asked.
“Dr. Pepper, please,” she smiled.
As she waited for her drink, Y/N leaned her elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her palm. She’d been here for almost thirty minutes and still no sign of Noah. She knew he was here; he had to be.
Outside in the front entry of the venue, Noah tried to pay attention to the story someone was rambling on about but the only thing in his mind was Y/N and if she was here yet. The anticipation of seeing her again was palpable, almost weighing him down, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall back into that state of anxiety he was in earlier. He had to heed Jolly’s words and trust that Y/N would show up.
I know I'm gonna die in this bed I made.
And I'm drowning in a dream that I can't escape.
If I could wake up I'd hesitate.
Politely excusing himself, Noah decided that he needed a glass of water to help with the sudden dryness of his mouth. There were people everywhere, always stopping him to chat. While he loved the praise and support for the new album, he only had one focus since he stepped foot into this building.
“Noah!”
Cursing under his breath, he turned swiftly to see an old friend, someone he hadn’t spoken to in a few years. At this moment, Noah was suddenly wishing he kept the album release party to strict friends and family.
“Dude this album is sick! The cover is amazing! What inspired it?”
Noah did his best to make it seem like he was interested in the guy’s questions but truth be told, he really couldn’t give a fuck.
“Uh, I was browsing through Pinterest,” he answered honestly while gazing over the man’s shoulder.
“That’s so cool! I love that. You know-.”
A sudden flash of red caught Noah’s attention so he quickly patted the guy's shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me.”
Noah made it all of a few steps before someone else stopped him. “Noah!”
He stopped and rolled his eyes while internally groaning. He could not feel any lower at this moment as he began to feel like this was another moment set up for doom.
But that glimmer of hope in his chest sparked when he spotted those familiar auburn curls and the shaved head that belonged to the two members of Hollow Souls. So before this new conversation could start, Noah once again politely excused himself and reached Chase and Malcolm in a few quick strides.
“Hey, guys. Is Y/N-?”
Chase nodded. “She’s here, don’t worry. She was just with us but someone dragged her away for a minute.”
Cursing, Noah ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the third time in a matter of minutes. It was the only thing he could do to keep his hands busy so they wouldn’t shake.
“Can you tell her I’m looking for her?” He asked.
“Of course,” it was Malcolm’s turn to nod.
In the middle of the large circle of people, Y/N was smiling as Jolly was telling her all about his last few weeks and frequent stops somewhere.
“She sounds lovely, Jolly. I can’t wait to meet her,” she took a small sip of her soda.
Jolly shrugged while fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “It’s still early. Who knows if she’s even interested.”
Y/N rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t doubt yourself, Jolly. She gave you her number, right?”
When he nodded, she continued. “Trust me, she’s interested.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before Y/N excused herself, needing to get a refill of her soda. It was a long night ahead and needed all the caffeine she could get. The clicking of her heels on the marbled floors echoed over the loud chatter of everyone but soon halted when the next few beautifully haunting melodies of Noah’s voice sang throughout the room.
I made another mistake, thought I could change.
Thought I could make it out.
Promises break, need to hear you say.
You're gonna keep it now.
Memories of her and Noah in the backseat of his car flooded Y/N’s mind and she let her eyes flutter shut, gently touching her lips. It was as if she could remember the way he tasted that night after the pier and fireworks.
I miss the way you say my name.
The way you bend, the way you break.
Your makeup running down your face.
The way you fuck, the way you taste.
That night didn’t end the way either of them wanted it to. But tonight would be different. There was no way Y/N would be leaving
“I don't understand where she’d be. How haven't I seen her yet?” Noah grumbled while fidgeting with the silver chain around his neck.
Nicholas chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Relax, Noah. You’ll find each other soon. There’s a lot of people here and chances are she got caught up with some of them.”
Folio reached them with a bright smile. “I just ran into Y/N. You’re not going to believe-.”
“Where?” Noah’s eyes widened.
“By the bathrooms. She looks good, Noah. She cu-”
He didn’t bother waiting for Folio to finish before he pushed his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms.
You couldn't wait, wait, wait.
For the day, day, day I lost.
It's such a shame, shame, shame.
You couldn't change, look what it cost, ohh.
“You haven’t found him yet?” Chase asked as he, Malcolm, and Y/N sat on one of the couches in the venue.
“No,” she sighed while fidgeting with the silver chain around her neck. “I’ve seen everyone else but him. I don’t understand where he could be. It’s like he’s avoiding me.”
“No,” Malcolm sternly shook his head. “Don’t think like that. He’s here and looking for you.”
“How come I haven’t seen him then? This place isn't huge, Malcolm.”
“But it’s packed with people, he probably got caught mingling. Just relax. Have another Dr. Pepper, will you?” Chase motioned to the minibar.
Reluctantly, Y/N nodded while rising to her feet and making her way over there for another drink.
I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell.
It's hard enough being alone with myself.
I don't know how long I'll be holding on.
I know you tried your hardest, I know that you meant well.
But you pushed me to the edge and I slipped, and then I fell.
I don't know how long I'll be holding on.
“Everything alright?” Jesse asked Noah, who was starting to look defeated.
“I’ve talked to everyone in this fucking room,” he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve done enough mingling for the night.”
“I’ll get us a couple of drinks,” Jesse offered.
Noah waved him off. “No, I’ll get it.”
Both Noah and Y/N were slowly starting to lose hope that they would find each other, all while the rest of their friends were worried the two soulmates would miss their mark. Two songs left and if things didn’t go according to plan, everything would have been for nothing.
Y/N leaned against the wall in the secluded hallway, alone for the first time all night as she gathered her thoughts. Her feet were killing her from the heels and her cheeks ached from all the fake smiling tonight. She understood she needed to mingle with people tonight but frankly, she was over it. The only thing Y/N wanted was to find Noah; her heart and soul yearned for him.
I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know.
How quick it gets lonely here at the top.
Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn.
The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone.
Snapping her gaze up from the floor, she let Noah’s deep voice sink deep into her bones as she sucked in a breath.
No God, no religion.
Just bad, bad decisions.
No God, no religion.
Just bad, bad decisions.
“No,” she shuddered, remembering that night all those months ago in that hotel room.
It should have been a great memory. At the end of their evening that night, there was a feeling in her gut that said, “no,” due to the fears of the past and the weight of burdens others cast onto her. When she walked away from him in that hotel room, Y/N believed it was what started the downward spiral into the dark parts of her life.
You can be all I got, what's the difference?
Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions
All I know, all I know
Is bad, bad decisions
The image of Noah sitting in the airport the morning after was something Y/N tried so hard to forget. It haunted her for a long time after, all those days locked away in her bedroom as she talked with Keaton. In those times of darkness, he seemed to be the only one to give her an answer without ever speaking.
“I won’t walk away from him again, Keaton,” Y/N muttered while grasping the chain around her neck. “I’ll stay until morning.”
I'm only human, but I'm afraid.
I may never learn from all my mistakes.
Don't know what I'm doing but that's okay.
'Cause I like it that way.
Another feeling in her heart that said, “Yes.”
Noah wasn’t like anyone else, he claimed to be someone mundane, with nothing to offer when in fact, he offered her the entire world that night with just a smile and those shining auburn eyes.
Bitter ends to the nights.
I'm along for the ride.
Out of breath, out of time.
Everything has a price.
Bitter ends to the nights.
I'm along for the ride.
Out of breath, out of time.
Everything has a price.
When people choose to be brave in love instead of being the puppets of fear, everything seems to get better. It became gradual. Y/N decided to make the right choice, the one she believed in.
Pushing herself off the wall, she forced her way through the crowd ignoring people who tried to get her attention. The vision of Chase and Malcolm a few feet in front of her was her current target until the siren-like voice of Noah made her stop completely in the middle of the room.
I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.
I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.
Noah immediately sat straighter on the couch, nearly dropping the glass of water, as those lyrics rang out into the vast space of the room.
No, they were supposed to be together at this moment. Not far apart.
This was their song.
So will you wait me out?
Or will you drown me out?
So will you wait me out?
Or will you drown me out?
Everyone around Y/N faded to white noise as she stared blankly ahead toward Chase and Malcolm, who watched their sister with confused expressions. Something about the way Noah’s voice sang with so much emotion told her everything she needed to know.
This was their song.
I can wait for you at the bottom.
I can stay away if you want me to.
I can wait for years if I gotta.
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.
Noah bolted up from the couch. “I need to find her.”
Michael and Orie shared a look before the former stood slowly. “Noah-.”
“NO!” His head snapped towards Michael. “We needed to be together for this song. It’s not-. It won't feel right unless she’s with me.”
Neither man made comments on the way Noah’s voice cracked, so close to breaking down. Instead, they nodded and agreed to help him find Y/N.
I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face.
And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same.
So many different memories flashed in Y/N’s mind as she let Noah’s voice sing to her; sing their song to her.
So will you wait me out
Or will you drown me out?
So will you wait me out
Or will you drown me out?
The first meeting when he stepped off the bus. Their day at the zoo and the wolf stuffed animal he bought her. The day at the beach where she told him it couldn’t rain all the time.
It seemed as if the rain had finally seized.
I can wait for you at the bottom
I can stay away if you want me to
I could wait for years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you
Y/N remembered her birthday and how Noah bought her the necklace and bracelet she was currently wearing.
We'll try again.
When we're not so different.
We will make amends.
'Til then I'll just pretend.
There was something there in the distorted part of the song, something that Y/N immediately caught and let out an audible gasp, hand covering her mouth. Another memory plagued her existence; the pier day.
“Noah! Stop!” She giggled while wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What?” Noah stopped spinning. “Let you go?”
Y/N shrieked as he nearly dropped her. “No, you idiot! Don’t let me go!”
Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning.
Way down, would you say I'm worthy?
“Sweets,” Chase tentatively approached Y/N, resting a hand on her elbow. “Are you alright?”
She shook her head, eyes brimming with tears, as she stared up at Malcolm and Chase while stumbling over her words. “I-I-I have to find Noah. I need to-I can’t.”
Malcolm nodded. “Ok, we will. Let’s split up and-.”
As if the stars were finally aligning in perfect harmony, something told Y/N to glance to her left, that pull in her heart she never ignored when it came to Noah vibrating with so much energy it made her choke on a breath.
Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning
Way down, would you say I'm worthy?
The music seized for a few seconds as Noah let out a choked breath when his amber eyes finally landed on her, their gazes locking. Everything and everyone seemed to fall away from them into the depths below their feet. His palms began to sweat as his ear rang loudly. His pulse rate quickened as his heart began to beat so hard he felt it in his throat.
Y/N and Noah were the only two that mattered at this moment and right when Folio’s drumming picked up again in the song, they pushed their way through the crowd toward each other.
I can wait for you at the bottom
I can stay away if you want me to
I could wait four years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you
Y/N couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she maneuvered her way past people who continued to try and get her attention. None of them mattered. The only one that did was now less than a few feet away from her; their souls vibrating for the connection it drastically missed.
We'll try again
When we're not so different
We will make amends
They were no longer different. Y/N and Noah grew immensely with their time apart and now they were finally ready to become one.
'Til then I'll just pretend.
There was no more pretending anymore. Every bad, good, ugly, and beautiful that these two went through was worth it for this moment. This is what all of their friends and they had been waiting for.
Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning
Way down, would you say I'm worthy?
Y/N would stay until morning; every morning.
Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning
Way down, would you say I'm worthy?
Noah was worthy.
READER
My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my throat when I came to a halt in front of Noah. Even though he looked different, he was still my Noah.
“Hi-.”
My greeting was cut off when his large hand wrapped behind my neck to yank me towards him, his lips crashing against mine. Very quickly, my hands grasped at his shirt to feel if he was actually in front of me and not another dream.
But his lips were real. The taste of his tongue was real as it forced its way into my mouth to mold against mine. I moaned into the kiss when his hands grasped at my backside as if he wanted to commit every last curve to memory. The other kisses we’ve shared were intense, but this was the kiss that sent my mind spinning. I moaned again, leaning into his embrace and meeting his passion. My teeth caught his bottom lip and tugged as I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair and our bodies were pressed against each other.
The smell of his cologne, the soft and peachy scent of his conditioner was dizzying and the butterflies danced in my stomach.
When he nibbled on my bottom lip before devouring my mouth once again with his tongue, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips into his. I missed every single part of him and my soul was screaming its thanks for finding its mate once again.
Noah’s lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. They parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. I could faintly taste the mint from his toothpaste and apple cider he must have drank earlier.
My eyes were half closed and I had a feeling Noah's eyes were as well because of how focused this kiss was, as if he was burning it into his memory. Almost like he was afraid I would vanish; slip through his fingertips as they dug into the material of my dress.
No, never again.
Noah nudged his nose against mine, and our mouths fell lazily together, already soft and open. I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, fingers carding through his hair as we breathed each other in. I could taste our shared breath, and feel the thud of our combined heartbeat.
I wanted to open my eyes to get a better look at his too-dark eyebrows. The freckles that peppered his nose and cheeks. I needed to admire the new crazy, vampire hairline. I desperately wanted to observe all of him. Burn it into memory.
I recalled at that moment that this wasn’t the end. No, this was the beginning and I could always bear some witness. My mouth was beginning to tire.
Noah’s kisses were all-absorbing like he was drawing something out of me with soft little jabs of his chin. The stubble was gone, much to my dismay, and I ran my hands down over his broad chest, nails scraping along the silver chain across his neck, something I noticed when I finally pulled away and opened my eyes.
It mirrored the one that hung on my neck.
Peering up through my lashes, I was finally able to drink in the sight of Noah and his kiss-bruised lips. His pupils were blown wide as his large hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing the lone tear that fell.
“Hi,” Noah breathed.
I couldn't help but giggle while wrapping my arms around him. “Hi.”
His eyes scanned my face while still holding my face. “You’re here. You’re real.”
“Were you expecting a ghost?” I teased with a raised brow.
“No, no I just-,” he trailed off with a shake of his head.
“I know,” I squeezed him. “I’m here.”
“Let’s go somewhere where we can talk?” Noah suggested.
“Please.”
I let him link our fingers together, bringing my hand to his lips to leave soft kisses against each knuckle before wrapping an arm around me to lead me outside. As if he couldn’t believe I was in his embrace, Noah kissed my cheek a few times, causing a fit of laughter to echo in the room.
I did my best to ignore Chase and Malcom when we walked past them, the latter handing the former some cash.
JESSE
Friends, friends of friends all disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, and found each other a few feet away.
Noah and Y/N broke apart from their kiss engulfed in one another.
What a man like Noah will store up in his ghostly heart no amount of fire or freshness can be challenged. He tried very hard not to dwell on the past but oftentimes found himself there. The past few months, I noticed my friend trying to move on from the stories that haunted him.
Noah wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Y/N, himself, and hell even the band. His life had been confused and disordered since I met him, yet a light and new spark of glory came breaking through that concrete surface.
I looked at them both as they took slow strides across the room, towards the glass doors that led to the back deck of The House of Blues. Noah was looking down at Y/N as she talked, her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear followed up and down as if each speech was an arrangement of notes that would never be played again.
Y/N’s face was happy and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes, and a bright passionate mouth. I could tell there was excitement in her voice by the way Noah was grinning from ear to ear, fingers tangling in her new locks.
He was so beautifully whipped and I couldn’t be more pleased. I fucking knew it would work out.
Glancing across the room towards our larger group of friends; our family and we all shared a nod and a smile.
Finally.
With that, I slunk off in the direction of the cocktail table, the only place in the garden where a single man could linger without looking purposeless and alone.
READER
As soon as we stepped outside, I tied my jacket closer to my chest while Noah led me to a bench. Once we were seated, his arm pulled me closer to him, his lips brushing along my hairline.
“I’ve missed you, angel.”
I leaned into him while grazing my fingers against the back of his neck. “I missed you too, Noah. I also love your haircut.”
He went rigid. “Are-are you sure? I know how much you loved the long hair but I felt like I needed to see the back of my neck again.”
I reassured him with a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think your long hair will always be my favorite but this is nice too. It suits you. Reminds me of Levi.”
“You caught that?” Noah chuckled.
“Oh immediately,” I brushed away the strands that fell into his eyes. “You know how much of a sucker I am for Captain Levi. But honestly, you look wonderful, mochi.”
He scrunched his face. “I still give off the mochi vibe for you?”
“You’re mochi, you will always be my little mochi,” I cooed while pinching his cheeks.
Noah grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. “I don’t want to be called that, by anyone but you. Just you.”
“Good, because the nickname stays,” I smiled.
It was his turn to run his fingers through my hair, a faint smile pulling at his lips.
“You cut and dyed your hair?”
Now it was me who felt nervous being assessed by his eyes and I shifted next to him. “Yeah, I felt like I needed a change. I’m sorry if it’s not as flattering as before but I-”
He immediately hushed my words with a gentle kiss on my lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”
My hands were sprawled over his chest and it was then that I noticed the glimmer of a silver chain under the moonlight from above. I tilted my head at it when I noticed how familiar it looked.
“Wait,” I grasped his necklace. “Is this?”
“Uh, yeah,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “When I bought your set for your birthday, I bought myself a set as well. You’re wearing yours?”
Immediately I lifted my wrist to his face while showing the necklace with the other. “I haven’t taken them off since I found them in my dresser drawer. The day of my live stream.”
His fingers grazed down the side of my neck, over my collarbone to fiddle with my necklace. “I know. I noticed it right away.”
We sat in silence for a quick beat but I could tell something was weighing heavily on Noah’s mind, his eyes cast down to not meet my gaze. I lifted his chin with a knuckle to force him to look at me.
“What are you thinking about?” I wondered.
His almond eyes glistened. “I know you only heard a few of the songs so far but I need to be honest with you and apologize if some of these songs hit a nerve. I wrote a few of them when I was really upset. Bad Decisions especially.”
I linked our fingers together to rest them on my lap. “I know.”
“I needed to get through whatever we were doing and going through. I don’t want to upset you or anything.”
“No, Noah. You didn’t. I should have considered your feelings when I pushed you away that night. None of that was right, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize just how much you mean to me. I’ve always been yours, Noah, and I'm sorry I made you go through that.”
His brows furrow while shaking his head. “Angel, it’s not all on you. Listen, I’m moving past the anger and frustration. All the fear and panic. I’m trying to look at things more healthily. I accept your apology. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms. We both have had a lot to work through. I was talking to my therapist and she told me that acceptance of things we cannot change is the first step.“
“Wait,” I blinked while turning my body to face him. “Your therapist?”
“Uh, yeah,” he ran a hand over his chin, suddenly nervous.
“Noah, that’s amazing. I’m proud that you’re talking to someone. I am too. My therapist, Dr. Poulos, is wonderful. She’s been helping me a lot.”
Now it was him who blinked while shaking his head. “Hang on. What’s your therapist's name?”
I pursed my lips. “Dr. Poulos.”
“The small office on W. 9th Street? It has that new cafe next to it?”
I nodded slowly, still not understanding. “Yeah, I still have to try their coffee. But I’m not following.”
“Y/N, we've been seeing the same therapist,” Noah informed with a light chuckle.
My eyes widened. “No way.”
“I swear. She has that dying plant-.”
“On the shelf behind her chair!” I finished while pointing a finger, my own fit of giggles filtering into the night air.
“Do you think she knew that we were talking about each other?” Noah asked.
“She had to! There’s no way she didn’t,” I said, still laughing, and ended up leaning against the bench to gaze up at the stars. “It seemed the universe kept trying to keep us together in our time apart.”
Noah mimicked my actions. “I think so too.”
Neither of us said anything for a long moment, enjoying the quiet of the night air with the subtle noise from the party inside. Neither of us was in a rush to go back in, simply enjoying our time together.
“Can I be vulnerable with you right now?” I said suddenly, breaking the silence, while turning my head to face him.
Noah gazed over to me, eyes filled with love. “Always, angel.”
“She asked me why I loved you.”
His brows peaked with interest. “Oh, what did you tell her?”
I only thought about my answer for a brief moment, figuring out the best way to let out everything I feel about him. “I love you for many things; your passions, your love, your friendships, and brotherhood. Your beauty and nature. I despised the pain you went through.”
Sitting farther up, I traced my fingers over the exposed tattoos on his forearms. “I love you so deeply, so incredibly much, that I wanted to find a way to come back to you despite my condition, and past keeping me in fear.”
It was true. My endometriosis had hindered me for years. Trey made me believe that no man would stay with me because of it; especially Noah. He wanted a family and I was keeping him from that.
But never once did Noah make me feel that way. He made me feel as if he would be by my side no matter what we decide to do in the future.
I let out a shaky breath before continuing. “Ever since I was diagnosed with endometriosis, the fear of whether I'd ever be able to have kids kept me from finding the happiness I deserved. So I settled for what I thought I deserved until you came into my life.”
Noah’s fingers grazed over the back of my neck.
“You showed me that my condition doesn't have to mean the end for my future. I have choices. So thank you for that.”
He brushed his lips over my forehead and I grasped at his sides. “Of course, angel. Can I be honest with you?”
Peering up at him, I nodded. “Please.”
“Would kids be nice?” Noah licked his lips. “Yes. But if it’s not for us, then I’m okay with it. As long as I have you and Salem, then that’s all I need.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because if I can’t give you a child, you might say you’re fine now but who knows years down the road.”
He cupped my cheeks now. “I promise you. You’re it for me, angel.”
Noah then brushed back the hair from my face, tracing a finger over my jawline before speaking again.
“You know, one of the things I discussed in therapy was how I believed I’ve spent every life before this one searching for you. Hoping that we would find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we’ve had before.”
I trailed a red nail down his chest. “You know, Malcolm also said something about our past lives.”
This piqued Noah’s interest as he gave me a smug smile. “Oh, yeah? Folio thought the same thing.”
“Of course, he would,” I snorted. “Did he also think you saved me from a burning building that was set on fire by my long-lost brother?”
Noah’s chest rumbled in laughter. “He said I fell in love with you after one wild night of sex and you came on the road with me.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that life. It probably would make a great story to read online,” I mused while leaning into him, allowing Noah to wrap his arm around my shoulder.
“I’m so happy you’re here tonight, angel. But I hope you know I’m not letting you leave here without me, right?” He muttered against the side of my head.
I wrapped my arms around his side to bury my face into his chest. “I wasn’t leaving without you. Even if you decided not to wait for me anymore.”
“There’s no universe where we aren't together, Y/N. We can’t outrun each other. I love you.”
With his long fingers lifting my chin, the softness of his lips molded against mine and a gentle but firm kiss. His tongue brushed over my bottom lip, asking permission before slipping inside. I moaned into it, reveling in his taste. Sparks shot off inside of me, igniting my cells with such heat, my pussy throbbed in anticipation.
“Stay the night with me?” Noah nibbled against my bottom lip
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I breathed before devouring him once again.
NOAH
With Y/N’s hand in mind, I led her up the driveway towards the house, the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement.
She pulled me to a stop while groaning. “Hang on a second.”
“Everything alright?” I asked, worried that she was changing her mind and wanted to go home.
Bending at her knees, Y/N made quick work of taking off her heels.
“I suddenly remember why I hate wearing heels,” she groaned again. “My feet are killing me.”
Quickly, I scooped her up in my arms to carry her bridal style up the rest of the way to the front door.
“Noah,” she giggled. “I can walk.”
“You’re insane if you think you’re going to walk in the dirt then on my clean floors,” I joked.
Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re such a clean freak.”
Ignoring her comment, I reached into my pocket awkwardly to reach for my keys and unlocked the door. My mind was working in overdrive on how to make the rest of our night perfect.
Would she like the house?
Would she appreciate what I’ve done in my room for her?
Would she actually stay?
Stepping over the threshold, I set her down gently in the dark room before clicking on the light, allowing Y/N to take in the fresh scenery.
“Oh wow,” she muttered while looking at me over her shoulder. “It’s a lovely place, Noah.”
I did my best to smile through my nerves and ran a hand through my hair. “Did you want something to drink? If you want a beer, I’m sure one of the guys won’t mind if you take one of theirs. I actually don't drink anymore.”
“You don’t?” She asked.
“No,” I now rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m actually sober. I have been for the last few weeks. I had to, for a few reasons, but it was something I wanted to do.”
Y/N walked into my embrace, wrapping her arms around me, and laid her chin on my chest as she looked up at me.
“I’m proud of you, Noah. I know it might not have been easy and it still may not be. But I’m proud of all your accomplishments. And I’m happy to be by your side for it.”
I kissed her forehead. “Come on, I think I have a Dr. Pepper in the fridge.”
“Oh no. If I have any more caffeine I’ll be a jittery mess. I’m fine right now. Why don’t you show me around?”
Nodding, I spent the next while showing her around the house, upstairs first to where the guy's rooms and the studio were. It was when we were back downstairs and in the open space of the living room and kitchen that she paused while pointing to the large cat tree opposite the large bay window.
“Who has a cat?”
My cheeks flushed as I shifted on my feet. “It’s for Salem. I thought it would be nice for him the next time I have to watch him when you’re out of town or something.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Noah,” she said with a shaky breath.
I could see the tears welling in her eyes but made no mention of it. Instead, I linked our hands together and kissed the back of hers. “I know but I wanted to.”
“I like the couch,” she nodded towards it; the large evergreen sectional.
I smiled wildly. “Thanks, it’s a dope couch. I’d been wanting something like this for a while.”
“So,” she cleared her throat. “Are you going to show me your bedroom?”
“Trying to get me into bed already, angel,” I mused while yanking her into my embrace.
Her hair flew behind her shoulders with the sudden pull and she held herself up by her one hand on my chest, the other still locked with mine.
“I’m tired,” she shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”
Smiling at her joke, I lightly dragged her down the hallway towards the master suite but she stopped in front of a closed door.
“What’s this room?”
My face twitched. “Oh, just storage space.”
She narrowed her eyes, almost seeing through my life. “Storage space? You sure you’re not creating a room for all your awards and nominations are you?”
“Ha ha,” I mocked while booping her nose. “Very funny my little flower but that’s a no.”
Y/N was taken aback. “Did you just boop my nose?”
“I did, you have a cute nose,” I shrugged as if it was nothing.
The memory of our hike that one morning when she said the same thing to me fluttered in my mind and I smiled fondly at it.
“Now if I’m not mistaken, I was the one that said you had a cute nose.”
She tried to boop my nose but instead, I grabbed her wrist and spun her to face the other door across the hall.
“Do you want to see my bedroom or not?” I wondered.
“Very much,” she leaned her head against my shoulder as I guided her through the door.
We stood in utter darkness, our breathing sounding so loud in the enclosed space, as I brushed my nose along her neck to breathe in her familiar scent. It made my cock twitch in my pants and I internally groaned, wanting to envelope myself into her.
“Do you guys always sit in the dark or what?”
Stepping away from her, reluctantly, I clicked on the light of the room, Y/N’s loud gasp echoing. She brought her hand to her mouth as she took in every inch of the bedroom.
The large king-sized bed with the sage green duvet blanket and six pillows. The burnt orange throw blanket was thrown haphazardly on. Lined on the wall behind the headboard were the LED lights casting the room in a faint red glow.
The large walk-in closet that only one side was filled with clothes and shoes, the other side bare; waiting to be filled.
The plants littered almost every inch of the shelves of my bookshelves and end tables on either side of the bed.
But when Y/N’s eyes landed on the vanity in front of the window that overlooked the small creek in the backyard, I noticed her breath catch. It still had a few of the figurines I bought her and empty containers, waiting to be filled to the brim with her products.
“What’s this?” She gazed over at me.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “It’s your vanity table. I didn’t buy you a chair yet because I wanted you to try ones out that you’ll like. I figured you’d be sitting there while you do your hair and makeup so you’d want to be comfortable. And I didn’t bother buying products cause I don’t know what works best for you. So I figured we could go shopping and you can buy whatever you want or need when you’re here. That way you don’t have to lug everything back and forth.”
“Noah,” her voice trailed off.
“Chase and Malcolm told me that you have all your products jammed into a suitcase so I got you the biggest one that would fit in this space,” I said while running my hand on the dark surface to brush away the nonexistent dust.
“They knew about this?” Y/N asked as she fumbled with one of the skulls.
It had a crow resting on it with red flowers.
Then she picked up the Valak figure, the faintest of smiles on her gorgeous face.
“Yeah. They told me a few things but a lot I remembered from what you already have in your bedroom. I wanted you to feel like you have a place here, angel,” I spoke.
She, however, hadn’t said much and it began to make me worry. Maybe I did too much. Pushed her somehow with everything.
“If it’s too much, I can-.”
“No!” Y/N whirled her head to me. “It’s not. I love it so much. I just don’t know what to say because no one has ever done something like this for me before.”
I grasped her hips, peering down at her through the few strands of hair that fell into my face. “I’m going to take care of you, angel. No matter what. You deserve all of this and more.”
She hastily wiped away the few stray tears before leaving a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you for this, Noah. Truly. I love you.”
My thumb caught a tear that fell. “Anything for you. Come on, I want to show you one more thing.”
With my hand on her lower back, I guided her out through the patio doors in my bedroom onto the secluded deck. We had one that wrapped around the back and side of the house but this one was only accessible through my bedroom. The sound of the running creek and crickets played like music as we leaned against the railing.
“Every morning, I come out here with my coffee or tea, and either read a book or meditate. I let the sun hit my face and enjoy the solace. Something I never used to have much of before,” I explained while crossing my arms over my chest.
Y/N rested her head against my shoulder. “That sounds lovely Noah, I’m comforted knowing that helps you and that you can do that for your peace.”
“You could do it too,” I suggested.
She hummed. “I could, but you know that small patio back at my apartment is not ideal for sitting outside and sunbathing.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, you’re always welcome to just stroll right over here to use this one. What’s mine is yours you know.”
“Like I won’t be here all the time anyways,” Y/N snorted while playfully smacking my arm.
“You’re right,” I chuckled.
A sudden chill brushed over us which caused her to shiver so I motioned for us to go back inside. She sat on the edge of the bed with a content look crossing her features.
“How did you get lucky to get the master bedroom with that shower?” She wondered while throwing a thumb over her shoulder.
“We flipped a coin,” I joked while plopping beside her.
It was nearing midnight and exhaustion was aching deep in my bones but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet. I wanted every waking moment with Y/N.
I ran my finger down the exposed skin of her back, tracing the lines of her snake tattoo. My eyes were drawn to the ivory river that gently caressed its way down her neck, reaching just below her shoulder blades. If the gods are real then this woman is their masterpiece.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“No,” she tapped her chin in mock thought. “I don’t think you have.”
“Well, you look stunning, angel,” I kissed her shoulder.
She had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps it was because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness.
“I was told the theme was red, though,” she teased while pulling at my shirt.
With a smirk, I lifted my pant leg to showcase the long red socks I’d been wearing all night. Y/N peered down at them, carefully studying the black symbols.
“Those symbols are on Salem's collar and they were showcased tonight,” her eyes lit up when she remembered.
“Surprise?” I shrugged.
“Do they have meaning?”
I pointed to each symbol. “Death. Peace. Mind.”
“The Death of Peace of Mind,” she uttered the name of our album. “Oh wow, I love that, mochi.”
When her bright eyes gazed up at me, I cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, slow and sensual. When I pulled away for a brief moment, I marveled at her beauty. Alluringly, Y/N would blink her eyes from time to time, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like the wings of an actual angel.
By Venus, her eyes were simply spellbinding.
With my lips on hers again, I let my tongue explore her mouth while I leaned her back on the bed. One had caressed her cheek while the other ran down her side before resting on her hip. Y/N hooked her leg around mine in a way to lock me in and her nails scratched at the skin of my stomach, underneath my shirt. I shivered with her angelic touch, moaning into her mouth as our tongues continued the fight for dominance.
Y/N tasted just the same but there was no possible way I’d ever get sick of it. I drank her in, reveled in the way her lips molded against mine, and when I broke apart from her to start leaving kisses from her jaw to her neck, she sucked in a breath when I began sucking on the sensitive area just underneath her ear.
I pressed my hips into her, my cock fucking aching in my pants, and I knew she felt it because Y/N let out a harsh moan; my name falling off her sweet lips.
However, when my hand slipped between the slit of her dress, her warm skin underneath my fingertips, she gently pushed me away.
“Wait,” she spoke with a small waver in her voice.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.
“No, no, you’re fine, Noah. It’s just-”
Y/N sat up on her elbows which made me lean back on my knees so I could gaze down at her. Fuck, she looked beautiful with her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. There was a faint red mark on her neck and my dick twitched with the excitement of marking what was mine.
“I have to talk to you about something,” she blew a strand of hair from her face.
I gave her a small nod, urging her on.
Y/N licked her lips while taking a deep breath. “I know this is a moment and this is something we’ve been waiting for, for a while. But I don’t want us to rush into full-on sex tonight. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted.”
She continued to ramble on so I hushed her worries with a kiss to her lips, nibbling on her bottom lip. “No angel, no. I’m just so happy to have you with me at all. All I want is you. My love for you isn’t based on sex. I don’t mind waiting for you, I will always wait for you.”
Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as Y/N eventually nodded. I lowered myself once again, this time farther down.
“Can I?” I hovered over her pussy, warm breath fanning over the material of her red dress.
She raised her hips off the bed towards my face. “Please.”
With her permission, I lifted her from the bed to stand on her feet. My hands snaked up behind her to unzip her dress, it falling to her feet in a pool of fabric. I took a step back so I could gaze upon her. Y/N stood in front of me in nothing but her red lace thong and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of her. Her muscle definition was perfect and she glowed with a newfound confidence. Y/N wasn’t just flawless in her bone structure but her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty.
“Noah.”
My eyes snapped away from admiring her body to her face. “Hm?”
“I love you,” she admitted while taking off her panties.
My heart swelled in my chest and I let out a long breath. “I love you too, Y/N.”
Gently laying her back onto the bed, I settled myself between the valley of her legs and my nostrils flared when the scent of her filled the room. The red hue from the neon lights behind my bed bathed her in an incandescent glimmer. My angel. The scarlet shade emulates her place in my heart where she flourishes.
Now kneeling on the floor, I wrapped my hands around Y/N’s legs to drag her down towards me, her squeals echoing off the walls of my bedroom.
Our bedroom.
Her nails raked through my hair, urging me closer. I darted my eyes up towards her one final time before devouring her completely. My tongue licked up her entire slit, Y/N hissing in pleasure, and I licked the sensitive nub over and over. Hiking her leg over my shoulder, I spread her wider for me so I could spear my tongue between her folds.
Fuck, I missed the way she tasted.
“Noah,” she moaned.
I lapped up her essence hungrily, like a man starved. The tangy sweetness made me moan in delight as I replaced my tongue with a finger, pumping in and out, then wrapped my lips around her clit to suck.
“Fu-fuck. Shit,” Y/N writhed against the comforter.
One hand was still tangled in my hair while the other grasped at the pillow behind her, her arm extended up over her head.
“Close, Noah, Holy shit” she muttered passionately.
Y/N gripped my hair pushing my head even harder- in an effort to get me closer, if at all possible. I pushed my tongue and fingers deeper inside her, almost feeling like I might split her in half. Her knees shook as she all but yanked on my hair now, her body going rigid. Her pussy pulsed in my mouth as the first waves of her orgasm began to build.
I hummed in approval with how she tasted but I needed more; I needed all of her.
“Noah, I’m gonna-.”
With a gentle pat to the inside of her thigh, I made my fingers work faster while my tongue teased her clit before scrapping my teeth against it; that being exactly what she needed to finally let herself go.
I gazed upon her perfect, naked form, her skin glistening with a sensual sweat. She was stunning. Something radiated from within that rendered her irresistible, and I was more than thankful to be between her thighs, tasting her again. My eyes caught sight of the new ink on her right thigh. The design was of a tattooed arm and hand holding a black rose. After her favorite nothing, nowhere album.
Reaper.
A fool says there was no god. I was no fool. She was an altar to me and I was here to worship.
The cries of her orgasms sounded like a pure melody as I licked and finger fucked Y/N through the aftershocks. My cock was pressing against the confines of my pants and I palmed myself to relieve some of the ache.
She patted my head and I finally pulled away from her to lick up her arousal from my lips and then from my fingers. Humming in approval, I hovered over her and buried my face in the crook of her neck.
“Fuck, Y/N. I missed how you tasted,” I groaned, nipping at the skin of her collarbone.
“I missed that,” she said breathlessly.
My finger brushed over her clit and she shook in overstimulation. “Noah, I can’t.”
I shook my head. “Yes, you can, angel. I want at least four out of you.”
Y/N turned her head towards me, her eyes blown wide with lust and her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “Four?”
I nodded eagerly while slipping a finger inside of her. “I’ve waited so long to have you again, Y/N.”
She moaned while arching her back off the bed, her walls clamping around my fingers as I slipped another one inside. Now with two fingers, I worked her close to another orgasm as my tongue teased and teeth pulled on one of her nipples.
“Cum for me, angel. Be a good girl and fall apart on my fingers,” I demanded before dragging my tongue between the valley of her breasts.
Her second orgasm ripped through her with no warning and I let her ride it out against my palm, praising her with sweet whispers in her ear. I brought my fingers to my lips, licking them clean as Y/N watched with wide eyes.
“So fucking good,” I mused before crashing my lips to hers.
I was aching, my cock practically screaming at me for some sort of release, but it wasn't about me right now. It was about Y/N.
As I went back to working on the mark on her neck I started earlier, I rearranged ourselves so now I was sitting against the headboard of the bed with Y/N lazily sitting on my thigh. I knew she was exhausted but I also knew that she had at least one more in her.
“Noah,” she whined. “I can’t.”
I brushed away the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead so I could gaze upon her. “Yeah, you can. I know you can. Soak my thigh, angel.”
I was so far gone in my own lust for her; my love for her, that I was about to bust at the seams.
“I don’t see how it's fair,” Y/N pouted. “You still have your clothes on.”
I smirked and kissed the corner of her lips. “Soon.”
With a bruising grip on her hips, I began to guide her back and forth against my thigh; her arousal from her two previous orgasms already soaking my pants. The warmth of her made me revel in delight as I leaned my head against the headboard so I could watch Y/N.
She arched her back, her tits in full display in front of me, and she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, lips parting in a silent moan. As she continued to rub her pussy against my thigh, Y/N’s hands slipped underneath my shirt to yank it up over me, tossing it to the floor.
The cool breeze from the overhead ceiling fan cooled my heated skin and her nails scratched at the tattoos on my chest. Her mouth immediately attached to the divot of skin between my neck and shoulder, teeth nipping before soothing the pain with her tongue.
“Shit,” I hissed in pleasure.
This orgasm was silent but just as powerful as Y/N’s body went stiff in my embrace, my arms locking around her to press our bare chests against each other.
“Good girl,” I praised with a kiss to the side of her head, her body going limp in my embrace.
READER
Noah’s arms wrapped around me from behind as he buried his face into the back of my neck, breathing me in. While I was still naked, he was only wearing his red briefs. He lost his pants right after I finished cumming all over his thigh.
For the last little while, we had been resting in each other's arms, enjoying the silence that fell between us. I enjoyed the way I felt his chest against my back, his deep breaths almost lulling me to sleep but I refused to succumb to the darkness yet. I wanted more time with him.
“I’ve missed the way you tasted, angel,” he laid a kiss on my shoulder and sighed in content. “I’ve been dreaming about this a long time. All I want to do is give you the pleasure you deserve. I love you.”
I turned over in his arms so I could face him and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “I love you too.”
When I went to pull away from him, Noah pouted and reached for me. “Hey, where are you going?”
I patted his chest. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”
Wrapping my leg around his hips, I now straddled him and linked our fingers together to hold his hands above his head. I licked and kissed my way from his forehead to his cheek, down his neck, and across the tattoo on his chest.
“Two can play at this you know,” I muttered.
Noah made a low noise in the back of his throat. “I like it when you’re bossy.”
“As you’ve proven,” I teased while gazing up at him. “I owe you for all those wonderful orgasms you’ve given me.”
Letting go of his hands, I dragged myself down the length of him to rest just above his cock which was barely being confined by his briefs. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and slowly dragged them down his long legs to toss them over my shoulder.
I now gazed upon the colorful designs that littered almost every single inch of Noah’s skin. His cock was almost standing straight and I licked my lips hungrily at the sight of the beads of precum that dripped down his length. For months, I dreamed of the last of it; of him.
Noah noticed the way I titled my head at him, eyes darkening.
“Y/N, you don’t have-. Oh, shit!”
He groaned in pleasure when I lapped up the precum, humming in delight, before sinking my mouth over his entire length. My tongue pressed against the base of his cock as I moved my head up and down, slow at first to take my time.
“Oh fuck,” Noah huffed out my name as he gripped the blanket beneath him.
I continued to suck him sloppily for a few moments before taking all of him deep in my throat. His hands grasped behind my head to keep me steady, hips bucking up into me. I dug my nails into his thighs as tears burned in the corners of my eyes, drool dripping from my lips but I refused to let up even a half an inch. I concentrated on breathing through my nose while gliding my tongue up and down.
The head of his cock was buried at the back of my throat and I ignored my gag reflex, not wanting to think of it. I dared a peek up at him, noticing that his head was arched back onto the pillow, his eyes closed, my name falling from those sinful lips in prayer. Sweat gathered at his forehead, dark tendrils sticking to him, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long with the grunts he was making.
My fingers played with his balls as I began moving my head up and down at a fast pace now, wanting nothing more than to get him to finish; and revel in his own orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Oh fuck,” Noah warned.
Suddenly, warm spurts of cum shot to the back of my throat and I mewled in delight as I swallowed every last drop of him, coming off of his cock with a loud pop. I wiped the drool from my chin with the back of my hand as Noah brushed away the hair from his face, trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
I nodded with a giggle. “Agreed.”
His hand reached up to brush his tongue along my bottom lip. “Thirsty?”
“Yes, please”
With a gentle pat on my thigh, I climbed off of Noah and climbed underneath the blanket and black sheets while he slipped on his briefs before leaving the room. I heard rummaging around in the kitchen.
I quickly glanced at my phone to notice a missed text from Malcolm and a few from the Hollow Souls group chat.
Malcolm: Don’t worry. I’ll feed Salem tonight and in the morning. Have fun and be safe. We love you, sweets.
With a fond smile, I replied to him before clicking on the Hollow Omens text thread.
Chase: Jolly, where are you? If you guys need a ride to our place, we’re out front.
Nicholas: He’s coming. Jesse and Michael got caught up with an old friend.
Michael: Hey, what are the chances we can swing by home to grab some extra clothes?
Jesse: Unless you want to walk into something you can’t unsee, I’d suggest against it.
Jolly: Has anyone checked to see if Noah and Y/N made it home safely?
Folio: I don’t think they’re too worried about their phones right now.
I snorted a chuckle before responding.
Me: Hi, friends. Noah and I made it home safely. Whoever sleeps in my room, make yourself at home! Just don’t look under the bed 😉
Not bothering to wait for a reply, I locked my phone and set it down on the nightstand next to the bed just as Noah returned with two glasses of water and a pack of chocolate chip cookies.
My eyes lit up. “Oh, yes! It’s like you read my mind.”
“Just a little bedtime snack,” Noah winked while handing me the water and a few cookies.
“I’m surprised you’re letting me eat in your bed,” I mumbled over a bite of cookie.
He settled himself next to me. “You’re the only exception because this would typically be a no.”
Waving him off, I finished the cookies then washed them down with half of the water and settled into bed while Noah browsed for a show to watch on the televisions. As I traced my gaze over every inch of him, studying him, I noticed something on his back.
My hand gently pushed his shoulder forward. “Woah. When did you get this?”
I traced the ink that covered the entirety of his back. It was just an outline of Jesus with the crown of thorns. There was some kind of border around it, a flower and leaves on each of his shoulder blades along with his lower back. Beneath Jesus, was a heart with barbed wire around it, a flame cross emanating from the top of it.
“I got it done a few weeks ago,” Noah answered, shivering underneath my touch as goosebumps rose to his skin.
I hummed a kiss into his back. “I never took you as the religious type.”
“I find religious art beautiful,” He leaned down to brush his lips over mine, a kiss I eagerly returned. “Besides, I don’t need God, no religion. Just you.”
After shutting off the lights and settling on a random movie, we cuddled deeper into the comforts of the bed, my head resting on his chest with my leg wrapped around his hips. Noah’s hand dragged up and down my back and I sighed in pure bliss.
He held me gently as if he were holding a flower and I wished we could have stayed like this forever.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” I mumbled my thoughts out loud.
“We can if you want,” he offered while leaving a kiss on the top of my head.
“We have to leave this room at some point,” I poked him.
Noah chuckled, it rumbling underneath my cheek on his chest. “True, but it’s not the room I was talking about.”
Gazing up at him, I cupped his cheek. “You’re already my forever, Noah. I learned that a long fucking time ago.”
He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “Are you okay if we sleep together?”
I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice so I sat up in bed, the sheet falling from my naked form. “I’m staying, Noah. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you. There is nowhere else I belong, nowhere.”
Noah dragged his hands over his face to muffle the faint sound of a sniffle. Gently, I pulled his hands away from his face and noticed a faint tear roll down his cheek.
“Noah, why are you crying? I’m right here. This is you and me, right?”
He sniffled again but cleared his throat soon after. “I guess after all this time, it still sort of doesn’t feel real.”
I nodded while pulling my knees to my chest, resting my chin upon them. “I can understand that, I feel that way too. But it is real. It’s you and me. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I love you.”
“I love you,” he sat up in bed to kiss me. “It’s you and me, angel.”
“Have any clothes for me to borrow?” I asked while biting my lip.
As much as I loved feeling his bare skin on mine, I could not sleep naked.
Noah motioned to the closet. “Help yourself to whatever. What’s mine is yours.”
Hopping off the bed, I scurried into the closet to scavenge through his drawers, not trying to gawk at the size of the closet. After deciding on his Naruto eating noodles shirt and gray joggers, I stepped back into the bedroom.
“Are you wearing my joggers and shirt?” Noah stifled a laugh.
“You said help yourself, so I did,” I smirked while hopping back into bed.
“Angel, I have to say you look ravishing in my clothes even if you look like a fucking pipsqueak in them.”
“It’s not my fault you’re fucking giant! I had to roll up the joggers three times!” I defended while pushing his shoulder.
Noah raised a brow before rolling on top of me, pinning my hands above my head with one of his while the other ghosted over my side. Immediately I knew what he was going to do.
“Don’t,” I warned. “I can’t be held liable for what happens if you tickle me.”
He narrowed his eyes, thinking it over, before he instead plopped down next to me, resting his head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him to drag my fingers through his hair.
“This was all I wanted,” Noah admitted after a long beat of silence, wrapping his arms around me to pull himself closer.
“Me too, mochi. I feel like I’m home,” I admitted, eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.
I yawned, which made Noah turn the television off before returning to his position of being the little spoon.
“You are home, angel. Wherever I am is your home.”
NOAH
Leaning on my elbow, I gazed down at the sleeping form of Y/N, soft snores falling from her lips as her hair was covering her face. I brushed it away with soft fingers and let my mind wander to last night.
She was here. She was with me, in my bed, and had no intention of leaving. For so long I’ve wanted this, dreamed of it, and now that it's actually true, my anxiety kept trying to tell me that she would end up slipping between my fingers.
My breathing suddenly became erratic, feeling as if someone had their claws sunk deep in my lungs, and white spots danced at the edge of my vision.
Shit. Shit. Not now.
Making sure Y/N was still asleep, I slipped out from beneath the covers and stepped into a pair of shorts and grabbed my phone on my way out the patio doors of my bedroom. The fresh scent of the morning dew that covered the grass filled my nostrils as I did my best to take deep breaths.
I sat cross legged on the deck and with the Calm app open on my phone, I let the familiar sounds of one I usually opted for sink deep within me. My eyes shut as I took countless deep breaths.
Deep breath in. Hold for four seconds. Out for two seconds.
I envisioned Y/N’s soft features of her face. Her bright eyes as I drowned in the color of them. The faint freckles that seemed to over cover her nose. The slight dip between her upper lip. The one dimple on her left cheek that was always prominent whenever she smiled.
Fuck, her smile was one that could light up a room. It was one that made all your problems go away when you gazed upon it.
Holding her in my arms is more natural to me than my own heartbeat. Even now, when I’m sitting here, I think about her. I think about her all the time. Some may say that we’re too young, I just know deep inside the flesh of me, there could never be another.
I was so entranced in my meditation that I didn’t hear the sliding glass door open until two arms wrapped around my neck from behind, soft lips pressing kisses to my cheek.
“Good morning, mochi,” Y/N’s angelic voice sang in my ears.
I grasped her arm with a sigh and opened one eye to peek over at her. “Morning, angel.”
This is real. This is my new routine.
She fell into my lap, locking her arms behind my neck again and kissed me. My hands rested on her hips to keep her within my embrace, not wanting to let her go any time soon.
“Did you sleep okay?” She asked.
I nodded and lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”
“I must say you outdid yourself with that bed. Perfect amount of pillows and the sheets are comfortable,” Y/N mused while playing with the ends of my hair.
“Only the best for you, angel,” I smugly smiled. “But listen, there’s something I want to bring up.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
I took a deep breath. “This weekend, I want us to have our first official date.”
Her eyes lit up. “Noah, I’d love that. But I just need to make sure to check my schedule.”
“Nope, already taking care of,” I snaked my hand underneath her shirt to graze over the soft skin of her back. “Malcolm and Chase said that you have nothing planned. So this weekend, you’re all mine.”
“I’m always yours, Noah,” she promised with a kiss to the side of my mouth.
With my heart solely in her hands now, I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.
“Yes you are.”
Our lips met in a gentle, slow kiss, but when Y/N adjusted herself to fully straddle my lap, I forced my tongue into her mouth and tasted all of her. My nails dug into the skin of her back to hold her closer to me and when she rutted her hips into me, I could feel the heat from her core brush against my hard cock.
I needed her so badly, in any way I could. But for now, I simply enjoyed having her grind against my lap as we sat on the deck, lips attaching to one another. The sun broke through the clouds to warm our already heated skin and with her body on mine and the sound of the running water of the creek, it lulled me into a state of peace that the Calm app couldn’t do for me earlier.
“I love you,” her teeth grazed over my bottom lip.
I grasped the side of her neck, thumb locked on her chin. “I love you too, angel.”
Our tongues began another fight for dominance, her winning this round again, but I never would complain. Y/N could do whatever she wanted with me and I’d still worship the ground she walked on.
“Noah,” she whined, rubbing her pussy over my cock, the thin material of our clothes still causing a barrier between us.
“What do you want, Y/N?” I demanded while nipping at the skin of her neck.
“You,” she gasped when my fingers slipped inside the waistband of her pants.
Fuck, she was soaking wet. My fingers glided over her pussy, gathering her arousal to begin rubbing fast, short circles against her clit.
The sounds of birds singing their morning songs were drowned out by Y/N’s moans, resting her forehead against my bare shoulder, and she bucked into my hand.
“So wet,” I praised, still working fast on her clit.
“I’m so close.”
With her still in my embrace, I stood and carried her back into my bedroom, slowing my pace on her clit immensely.
“Noah,” she groaned. “Why’d you stop?”
Forcing her against the wall, I let Y/N wrap her legs around me just before I attacked her lips in a fever hungry kiss. Now it was me who won the battle for dominance and I forced my tongue into her mouth, ravaging her lips.
“I need to taste you again, Y/N. Need it on my lips,” I grunted while pushing us off the wall and over towards the bed.
Her giggles echoed loudly in the room as she bounced and I jumped on after her.
JOLLY
With a big yawn, I walked into the house with Jesse and Michael close behind. We all spent the night at Chase and Malcolm’s place but now that it was nearing mid morning, we decided it was safe to come back home.
“I don’t know about you guys,” Michael groaned as he rummaged in the fridge, “But I need another couple hours of sleep.”
I snorted my laughter. “What, did Salem keep you up all night?”
“I don’t understand how that little dude has all that energy. Running up and down their long hallway all night. I swore you’d think they had a pet horse,” he exasperated.
Jesse went to say something but he quickly pointed to the kitchen window. “Look.”
We did and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Y/N was sitting on one of the patio chairs with a blanket wrapped around her and a book in her lap. I peered down the hallway where Noah’s bedroom was just as he stepped out, dressed in a pair of black shorts and his Hereditary sweater. Water still clung to his hair as he stepped out into the living room.
“Oh, hey. When did you guys get back?” He asked.
Sharing a glance with the others, all three of us wrapped Noah in a large group hug, finally happy that all the bullshit the last few months was finally worth it.
“Alright, alright,” Noah pushed us away when Jesse began ruffling his hair.
“She looks peaceful out there, I’d say what you were so worried about resolved itself,” Jesse chuckled at first.
He sat on the couch to put on his white socks then white vans. “Yeah. We had a good night. Are you guys cool if she stays?”
I grasped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You know we’re more than okay with that. She’s welcome here anytime, Noah.”
Just then, the sliding glass door in the kitchen opened as Y/N stepped through, wearing Noah’s clothes, and gave us all a warm smile.
“Hi!” She cheered. “I was thinking about making some breakfast if you guys are hungry.”
Just then a thought crossed my mind and I ran a hand through my hair. “Actually, I was thinking we could go out for breakfast. I know this great place.”
Noah chuckled while rising from the couch and immediately pulling Y/N into his arms, leaving a kiss to the side of her head.
“Any reason why you want to go there?” He teased me.
I narrowed my eyes as Y/N smacked his chest. “Noah, be nice. But I’d love that! I just need to run home quickly and I can meet you there!”
Michael tossed her her car keys since he drove it over here for her. “Count me out. Your cat kept me up all night with his galloping and biting my toes.”
“Oh, you leave my baby alone,” Y/N pointed a finger at him as he began walking up stairs to his bedroom.
“I’m in,” Jesse smiled. “Give me a little bit to change.
When it was now the three of us, I couldn't help but watch with a smile as Noah walked Y/N to the door, muttering something low in her ear, a red hue creeping across her cheeks.
“I love you, angel,” he brushed a kiss across her forehead.
She grasped his sides, leaning into the kiss. “I love you too, mochi.”
They were not the same people they were when they met. They’ve changed, they’ve grown.
I felt joyous, for this reunion. This is proof that love can exist. The sun has long since risen, the thief of night would come quickly. I stared at my friends, who desperately could not disconnect. I was just so glad. I smiled with a crinkling mouth, and pure heat enveloped my heart for them.
I began to wander in the corner of my own daydream. I couldn’t wait to live a lifetime in these last remaining moments of my own.
Her face came into my mind.
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian and reader#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian reader insert#noah sebastian smut#enemies to lovers#right person wrong time#tina and sarah talks
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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)
Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.
Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.
Word Count | 5.1K
Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.
SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible.
“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.”
A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried.
Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you.
“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair.
“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head.
“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous.
It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready.
He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them.
“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill.
“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.”
“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer.
“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?”
Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him.
“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?”
“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer.
“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.”
“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks.
“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.”
“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.”
Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly.
“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.”
“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.”
You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son.
Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you.
“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.”
He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.”
The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist.
“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.”
“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.”
You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”
“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.”
“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?”
You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans.
You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.”
He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?”
You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips.
“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on.
“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly.
You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.”
He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you.
Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up.
“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.”
It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you.
You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?”
“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.”
“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply.
“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?”
“That what you want?” He grunts from above you.
“Wanna taste you.”
“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.”
He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him.
You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.
“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.”
It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to.
You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier.
You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer.
“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink.
“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.”
You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm.
“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh.
“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.”
Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career.
“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.”
You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.”
He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.”
“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.”
“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”
It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep.
“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?”
He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”
You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end.
The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed.
He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you.
With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes.
“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.”
He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him.
“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.”
“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?”
His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit.
“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.”
He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements.
“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you.
“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.”
He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.
You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head.
“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.”
“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers.
He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?”
His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses.
“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.”
You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist.
“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?”
You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die.
“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.”
“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you.
“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.”
He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire.
He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only.
One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.”
You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself.
“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.”
“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?”
“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.”
His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant.
He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom.
When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together.
“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.”
You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh.
“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.”
You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.”
His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.”
You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day.
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#Joel Miller#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller angst#Joel Miller fluff#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Tommy Miller#Tommy Miller smut#Tommy Miller angst#Tommy Miller fluff#Tommy Miller fic#Tommy Miller fanfic#Tommy Miller fanfiction#Tommy Miller x you#Tommy Miller x reader#Tommy Miller x female reader#Tommy Miller x f!reader#The Last Of Us#The Last Of Us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#Joel tlou#Tommy tlou#tlou fic#tlou smut
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Two's A Crowd
College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
MDNI 18+
(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)
Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.
Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing
Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added
Author's Note: Forgiveness is requested but not expected. Downhill we go!!
Cross-posted onto AO3
Chapter 3:
Over time, you grew less and less worried with Leon’s nice behavior. Your math grade has gone up significantly, surpassing a low C which is a passing grade, but since the tutor sessions have become much more bearable, you haven’t felt the need to stop going. Besides, you have an A streak to fulfill.
Your friends stayed suspicious about the frat boy’s intentions, however. The way you’d become so unbothered with everything relating to him had them stressed, yet at the end of the day, “no asshole can hold up a facade like that for this long”, as per Sky’s words.
Easygoing is the best way to describe Leon at this point. A gentle soul, from what you can tell. He goes out of his way to hold the door for you, share his food with you whenever he brings it, and he even gets excited with you whenever you get an A on any of your assignments or tests. It makes you happy that you held out for him.
“And that makes sense to you?” Leon was standing next to you, leaned over with both his hands on the table. You were both in the study room, only this time you had finished everything math related. Thanksgiving break had come and gone so everything had shifted towards the finals before Winter break, meaning now you were using the space to go over the study guide for the final given by one of your other professors, though it would’ve been nice to have your math study guide to burn into your brain since it’s your biggest struggle.
“Yeah, this is easy for me,” you mutter, hand against your mouth as your eyes move back and forth across the packet of information in front of you. Having Leon leaning over you had been commonplace since mid-November. He turned out to be very nosey. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own classes?”
You didn’t need to look at him to know he was extremely confused by your study guide. “Uhh.. nah,” he stood upright and slowly made his way around the table, sitting down in front of you with a small groan as he relaxed into the seat. “I’ve made it through the past couple years here without ‘em. No need for ‘em now.” You nodded to the side at his, bringing the pen you were holding up to your mouth to nibble on the end of it. “Makes sense…”
It took awhile before you noticed his nervous fidgeting, looking up from your study guide to give him a worried look. “Are you bored? I can finish up in my dorm if you-”
“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He cut you off, his eyes meeting yours before the room fell silent. The question was so sudden and you weren’t expecting anything like it, so it just had you confused. You must’ve looked it, too, since he moved his eyes away from yours while crossing his arms. “I mean-.. Y’know, figured I’d ask..”
Seeing him get nervous was always pretty cute to you, such a handsome guy getting worked up over you never failed to flatter you. “Oh, yeah! I’d like that, actually..” You giggled when Leon looked back at you, soon grabbing your few supplies to put back into your backpack.
Relief spread across his face, moving to stand as you collected your items. “Good, okay, uh.. How’s Olive Garden sound?” To the average college student, Olive Garden was some high class fine dining. Anyone would be a fool to say no to an offer like that.
Just like your friend told you not to do, the absolute biggest no-no when it came to these types of college guys, you let Leon get even closer. It was just dinner in the beginning, but you started seeing him outside of study sessions afterwards with him going out of his way to seek you out and hang out with you and you the same. “Just going out to dinner” turned into dates real fast, faster than you even had time to process.
You’ve almost completely forgotten about just how nasty he was towards you not three months prior with how he doted on you. Leading up to finals week, Leon made sure to bring you food after noticing your long study habits. He wouldn’t even give you a choice, just a simple “whaddya feeling tonight?” over text. He’d hang out in your dorm with you while you ate, much to your roommates dismay, and sometimes he’d just show up for no reason other than to see you. You’d blush and shy away from his flirting, he’d tease you, and you’d get mad at him for distracting you in a playful way. Even if you wanted to be actually mad at him, you couldn’t, not with that cheeky little grin he’d give you.
You never questioned his nosiness as he familiarized himself with your dorm, rummaging through your drawers as you whined at him from the bed to stay out of your stuff. Honestly, you’d probably look through his stuff too if you had the chance.
Having a boyfriend during your first year of college wasn’t exactly a goal, and you don’t know if this is even a relationship or not, but you weren’t complaining. It was so nice having someone care about you like this, especially when it’s someone who’s, to you, way out of your league in almost every sense. Though he wasn’t the most outgoing, he was very well known, and being seen with him meant the attention he received was spilling onto you. Hell, you didn’t even know he played football until he passed by you with his friends, all in their football get-ups. He never bragged about any practices or games to you, maybe you should’ve asked about the various bruises and scuffs he’d show up to the study sessions with. Oh well.
Every night during finals week, Leon would take you out for dinner under the guise of “destressing from the long day”, not that you minded, of course. You were growing increasingly anxious about your last final, the big one; math. The two of you were sitting in his black Jeep Wrangler as it idled out in the parking lot of McDonald’s, snacking on what was left of your meal in a comfortable silence. The combination of the heater blowing on you and the food in your stomach was settling you, if only a little.
Leon kept his eyes on you the entire time, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh. His hand was so warm. “You’ll pass, I know you will.” His soft touch barely had you cracking a smile, looking through the windshield as large snowflakes quietly fell, lit up by the streetlights surrounding the parking lot and by the headlights on his car. The snow had accumulated an inch on the ground already, the sun having set nearly two hours prior. Winter and its short days, a blessing and a curse. “I don’t know..” You could feel his eyes on you, yet yours were stuck staring out at the falling snow. “My nerves always get me. I’m gonna make the stupidest mistakes and then once the final grades are in my parents’ll wanna see and then I’ll be surrounded be disappointment and shame and guilt.”
You closed your eyes and slumped your shoulders when you felt Leon squeeze your thigh, finally able to turn and look back at him. “You know that’s not how it’s gonna go.” He let out a breathy laugh when you raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, you’ve got it down! Plus, you had an amazing tutor~..”
With a dramatic groan, you rolled your eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, unable to hide your smile. “I guess, but you weren’t that amazing..”
Leon moved his free hand and brought it up to his chest, holding it there with a strong pout to feign hurt. “You wound me.. Was I nothing to you?” His smile quickly returned when you clicked your tongue at him, chuckling through his nose. “Seriously though, I’ve never met anyone as smart as you are. You learned how to do that kind of stuff incredibly fast, so I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you won’t demolish that final.” His compliments always left you blushing and at a loss for words, playfulness giving way to a more heavy air. “Thank you, Leon. Really, thank you...”
You were too wrapped up in watching the snow fall through the windshield to notice when his hand pulled away from your thigh, or just how guilty he looked as he silently watched you.
The math final was easier than you were expecting. You understood basically everything that had been put on it minus a couple things that you scolded yourself for not brushing up on last minute. Grades weren’t put in until a week or more after the finals were turned in, yet you were confident enough in how it went to feel good leaving that room afterwards.
This first semester had really tested your limits, but you were lucky to have your friends, lucky to have Leon. It didn’t feel strange having him around anymore, it felt natural, real. There weren’t enough ways to thank him for all that he did between tutoring you and taking care of you overall.
You yelped with laughter as Sky picked you up, their arms around your midriff, waving you side to side as they yelled how proud they were of you. Ella only stood by and laughed along, making sure to take a picture of the moment as keepsakes. “Guys, I don’t even know if I passed yet!” You pushed away from Sky and they placed you back down on the ground, smoothing out your shirt which had you swatting their hands away.
“But! You survived and that’s always cause for celebration.” Ella pocketed her phone and took a couple steps forward so you were all standing in a small circle now. “You really pulled through these last few months.”
Thanks to Leon. “I did, huh?” You looked down with a bashful smile, shrugging before pulling the strap on your backpack further up so it wouldn’t slip off your shoulder. “You know,” Sky started, resting their elbow on your other shoulder while pursing their lips as they slowly turned their head to look at you, “you’re not very good at hiding your love for Leon..”
You weren’t trying to hide it, it's just that even the vaguest thought about the man had you flustered and stumbling over your words like a fool. All you could do now was glare at your friend, who just raised their hands up in defense. “Hey now, not poking fun, just making an observation.”
Ella placed her entire hand over Sky’s face and pushed them away from you, ignoring their muffled complaints as she looked at you. “We’ll always be suspicious because we’re your friends and we care about you, but as long as you’re careful, we’ll keep our distance.”
Sky pulled Ella’s hand off their face, making gross-out noises while wiping their face off. “Blegh, anyways, yeah. Keeping our distance, but still watching from afar.” They pointed their index and middle finger from their eyes to yours before smiling.
You hung around in their dorm as Ella finished packing up her suitcase. She’s had her plane ticket back home booked for a month, constantly expressing her need to leave as soon as finals were finished during that time. Sky was leaving the same day you were, which was in two days since you both drove or were driven here. Leon stayed at his frat house all school year, so you were thankful to have two people sticking around so you weren’t left all alone.
Unfortunately, this meant you had your own packing to do. Thankfully though, your roommate had already left, sparing you from their menial chit-chat. Packing was almost cathartic in a weird way, almost as if you saw going home as a reward for working yourself to the bone at this university. Quiet music was playing from your phone as you gathered the essentials, you’d be coming back in three weeks so there wasn’t any need to pack up everything.
A gentle knock knock knock at your dorm’s door startled you from your thoughts, causing you to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t just coming from the song that was playing. Slowly, you made your way over to the door, and before you’d even opened it fully, Leon slipped his way through, side stepping into the room with a cheeky smile.
You scoffed as you watched him weasel his way in, hand stuttering away from the door handle to allow the heavy door to shut. “You could’ve waited until I opened the door all the way.”
“I knocked, though.” Mischief was evident in his tone as his eyes landed on the suitcase sitting on your bed. “Getting ready to leave?”
“Not for another couple days. Just.. wanna be ready.” You walked past him over to your suitcase, continuing to fold the last few pieces of clothing you wanted to bring back home. “Perfect, got some extra time to spend with you then.” Leon chuckled, now standing next to you to watch you get back into rhythm.
Having him admit that so casually had you nervous, cheeks heating up as you glanced over at him. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with your friends?” The eyebrow raise he gave you made you stumble as you tried to elaborate. “N-not that I don’t want to hang out with you! I just feel like you’d have more fun celebrating the end of the semester outside of a stuffy dorm.” You tried to laugh away the embarrassment, moving your focus back to the suitcase as you zipped it up.
“I can celebrate with those slobs any time, but for right now, I would really like to be around you.” Leon carefully lifted your suitcase off the bed, placing it near the door for you. “You’re nice and quiet. They’re not.” You sighed after lifting yourself up onto your bed, sitting criss-cross right in the middle while meekly smiling to yourself, watching him walk back over to stand in front of you.
“By the way,” he said, turning his head to look out your window for a split second before looking back down at you, “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how proud I am of you for coming out of that math final. I know results take awhile, but you seem pretty pleased with yourself.” He crossed his arms and bent forward a bit with a teasing smirk as he not-so-subtly looked you up and down.
You covered your face with your hands and laughed into them, a poor attempt to hide your ever increasing blush. After letting your hands fall away, you bunched the end of your hoodie up in them, fiddling with the thick fabric as you replied. “Yeah, uh.. I think I did alright.” You were going to say more, but you stopped when Leon’s hand found its way under your chin, tilting your head back so you were looking at him. “C’mon, don’t downplay this, baby. You did amazing and you know it.”
Your mind went blank at the pet name and you were finding it hard to breathe with the way his hand felt under your chin. The air in your dorm was a tad tense before, yet now it just felt heavy. Stifling. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as you tried to think of something, anything to say.
“Did I catch you off guard?” He said with a breathy laugh, gently tilting your head side to side as he studied you. And you let him. Your mouth felt dry, face hot as he leaned in closer. “You’re so beautiful..” His voice dropped an octave and his eyes were lidded as they stared into yours. “So smart, so brave..” Soon his lips were brushing against yours, whispering out a final “So perfect..” before pulling you into a gentle kiss.
It didn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to mimic Leon’s movements. His hands cautiously slid down to grasp at your waist while yours moved up to cup his face, pulling him closer. He slowly crawled onto the bed with you tugging him along, leaving you laying down as he hovered over the top of you, knees planted on either side of your legs while one of his arms moved up to support himself.
He was doing his best to be careful with you, noting your nervous tremble as his right hand slid under your hoodie. “M’gonna take care of you, ‘kay?” He hummed against your sensitive skin, kissing along the underside of your jawline. You only nodded as his lips trailed down your neck, stopping when your hoodie got in his way of the rest of you. “Need you to say ‘okay’ f’me, baby.”
Nearly whining when he stopped, you nodded again a bit more vigorously this time, voice barely a whisper. “O-..Okay..” You propped yourself up slightly when Leon pulled his head away from your neck, his eyes meeting yours as both his hands were now playing with the end of your hoodie. “Y-Yeah, okay…” You repeated.
First it was your hoodie, then it was his jacket, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms, chest pressed against yours as he reached around to unclasp the hooks on your bra. You immediately brought your arms up to cover your breasts once Leon leaned back after pulling your bra off, self-consciousness suddenly settling in. “Hey hey, no need to hide from me..” He cooed, eyes raking down your body as he grabbed your hands to pull your arms away, thumbs rubbing circles onto the tops of your hands as he stared with a crooked smile.
You took the opportunity to take in his form; muscular, a couple old scars and freckles standing out to you. He was gorgeous, through and through, no doubt about it. He took notice, craning his neck to look down at his exposed chest before looking back up at you. “Looks good, huh?” That got a small giggle out of you, at least.
He slowly guided you back down onto the bed, his hands firmly rubbing up and down your sides. “You look even better, though. Layin’ pretty beneath me~..” His right hand found its way to your panties, running his fingers along the band before trailing further down to press his middle finger against the gusset. You gasped at the feeling while he laughed quietly, leaning back a bit further to catch a glimpse of the wet spot he was feeling. “You’re soaked.. Lil’ bit of touching got you all worked up?”
Your hands flew up to hide your face again as he rubbed his finger up and down your clothed pussy, letting out small gasps and whimpers all the while. You shakily nodded, subconsciously spreading your legs further apart as he slotted himself between them.
“Tell me something, babe.” Leon paused his movements to look up at you, huffing a chuckle through his nose when he noticed you’d covered your face. “You seem real nervous, so I’m jus’ wonderin’...” Dread settled in your stomach at his implication, you were hoping he wouldn’t ask this. “Yes..” You whispered, parting your fingers over your right eye so you could look at him. “Don’t make me say it, please…”
He hummed low in his chest, eyes darkening as they moved back down to your panties. “Juuust wonderin', is all..” His finger started to caress you over your panties again while adding a bit more pressure. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Only means I gotta make this extra special for you~.” You moved your hands to shoot him a weak glare and he smiled in return. “Didn’t say I couldn’t say it.”
Once he felt your tremble start to dissipate, he brought his hands up and hooked his fingers on the band of your panties before slowly tugging them off, letting out a low groan as a string of slick stayed connected to the gusset from your leaking pussy. “Fuck, that’s hot..” He breathed in sharply through his teeth, taking your panties into one hand before grabbing his hoodie, stuffing them into the large pocket in the front.
Leon didn’t waste any time putting himself back between your legs, languidly dragging his middle finger up and down through your folds. He relished in your every noise, even as you tried to hold them in. “You ever finger yourself before?” He asked, voice gravelly as he repeatedly pulled his finger back to watch your slick cling to it by a string.
“... no..” Your innocence had him groaning to himself again. He could ignore the guilt eating away at him long enough to handle you the way you needed to be handled. “Let’s give it a try then, yeah?” He hunched over some more so his face was hovering above yours, middle finger now gently circling your clenching hole.
“P-Please be careful..” You whimpered, slightly panicked at the feeling of his finger nudging your entrance, one of your hands grasping the bed sheets while the other held onto his bicep that was closest to you. “I’ll be so careful, baby.. I promise I’ll be careful.”
And he was. What would’ve normally been a relatively quick process turned into ten minutes of Leon tenderly stretching you on his fingers. He studied your face the entire time, whispering sweet words into your ear, even letting out deep moans to encourage your own timid ones. You needed the time. There's no rush.
He moved down to pair his fingers with his mouth, tongue running through your wet folds as his fingers stroked your walls. The noises you let out when he sucked on your clit were intoxicating. You were intoxicating.
Once Leon pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, you knew what was coming. And when he paused for a moment after standing up, hands hooked in his boxers, eyebrows tightly furrowed together in thought, that only served to make you more nervous.
“..Leon?” You managed to say, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched his shake himself out of his head. “Yeah, sorry, just… thinking about the best way to go about this. Don’t wanna scare you.”
“You-... I’m not gonna be scared..” You looked from his face down to his boxers, eyeballing where his fingers were still hooked in them. He just clicked his tongue, nodding his head to the side with a soft “if you say so”.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared. There wasn’t much frame of reference, but Leon was… sizeable, for lack of a better term. And it wasn’t just his size that was intimidating to you, it was the idea of sex itself. Sex has always been made out to be this big grandiose milestone by everyone around you, so now that you’re about to actually do it is giving you the same sinking feeling that public speaking does.
“You’re scared.” Leon had pulled his boxers all the way down without you noticing, letting them lay abandoned on the floor as he took the small step back towards you. “No.” You were quick to object, eyes still glued to his dick. He chuckled and tilted your head back by your chin once more. “Yes, you are, and it’s okay. I’m not gonna kill you with it.”
“You might…” You muttered under your breath, eyes lowly making their way back down to his dick as he got back up onto the bed and in between your legs. “I promised you I’d be careful, right?” Leon grunted, his hand squeezing the base of his cock before giving it a few slow strokes.
You swallowed dryly, pulling your eyes away and back up to meet his. “Yeah…” He nodded, giving you a wobbly smile as he teased his thumb across his tip. “Right. So don’t worry, I’ve gotcha..”
You only nodded, doing your best to keep your eyes up and focused on his face as he lubed himself with your juices. Your eyes widened once you felt him line himself up with your hole, body jerking a bit at the slight pressure.
“You gotta relax, sweetheart..” He used his freehand to stroke your thigh before pulling your right up over his shoulder, hand moving back down so his thumb could rub your clit. “Just breathe and focus on what my hand’s doin’, alright?”
The two of you were lucky that a lot the people in your dorm building left already, cause when his tip finally pushed past that ring of muscle, you let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. It hurt, but it was also such a new feeling that it simply startled you. “Okay, okay, that’s the hardest part. You did it.” You panted, hands tugging at the blankets beneath you as he stilled. “Okay…” You copied him, nodding your head once you felt you were ready for him to move.
The sting of the stretch was the hardest to get by, however it was easily masked by just how full you felt after Leon was fully sheathed inside you. So new, yet so good.
You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing as you rested back against the bed. Your heart was beating and your body felt hot. It was actually a nice feeling. “You- ugh.. You can move.. a little..” You breathed out, grunting softly when you felt him twitch.
“Mhm..” Leon agreed with only a hum, not trusting his mouth enough to speak. He pulled back an inch before thrusting just as slowly, eyes darting around your face for any sign of discomfort. A minute or so of taking it slow led to deeper thrusts, following your command as you asked for “harder”, “deeper”, “faster”. All with that sweet voice that he couldn’t say no to.
You were eating away at him and you didn’t even know it; wrapped around him so perfectly, that delicious honey of yours dripping down his balls, moaning his name, looking at him with those glassy eyes, fuck. He fits you so well.
He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at you any longer. Ignoring the guilt was harder than he thought, even with him thrusting into you like he owned you. You weren’t his, he can't have you the way you want him to-
“Shit-!” He gasped, too lost in his own thoughts to notice you’d grown close until you abruptly clenched around him, sloppy cunt milking his cock. His thrusts stuttered to a stop as he buried himself deep into you, cumming with a whine of his own. Looking at the wall with bleary eyes, he furrowed his brow again, chewing on the inside of his cheek while he caught his breath.
Clarity crashed into him when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a weak hug. He needed to go, but how could he leave you like this? God, he was so fucked.
He should’ve just stayed an asshole, that would’ve kept you far away. And he should’ve never taken that stupid bet. All this for a pair of panties to wave around like a trophy.
tags:
@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik
(few of your blogs won't work, but i really tried 😩)
#college au my beloved#bully leon#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil#leon s kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy fanfic#leon s kennedy x fem!reader#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon scott kennedy#re4 leon#leon scott kennedy x fem reader#leon scott kennedy x you#multichapter#multi chap fic
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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 2
(Click here to read chapter 1)
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.
⛧Words: 2.5K
⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.
⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.
⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic
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As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.
“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.
“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.
“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.
“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.
You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.
You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table.
“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.
“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”
“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.
“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.
“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”
“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.
You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.
You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.
You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.
But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.
-----------------
Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study.
He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow.
Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow.
-----------------
Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.
You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.
Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.
“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves.
The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat.
“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”
He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”
“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.
“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”
You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself.
“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”
Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.
Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”
Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.
You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.
Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down.
“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.
“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.
“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried.
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x y/n#hazbin hotel x you
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Met you at the right time | A. Fantilli
Summary | Adam attends reader's concert and fans notice
Pairing | Adam Fantilli x reader
Warning | Gracie Abrams faceclaim!
Author's Note | I cannot thank you all enough for the love on "Into Your Room!" I hope you all had an amazing holiday! I'm currently spending time with family so idk when I'll be able to post next! I also liked the smau format. Please send requests! Enjoy!
Masterlist
y/nupdates
liked by adamfantilli, user1, user 2 and others
y/nupdates y/n looked so happy at her show last night in Columbus! she wouldn't look away from the vip area!
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user1 i was there! she was so smiley during Feels Like!
user2 some people on twitter were saying that some of the hockey team was there last night. was there any confirmation?
↳ user1 oh my gosh yes! i thought i saw Adam Fantilli there and maybe some others too
↳ user2 WAIT ADAM JUST LIKED THIS POST?!
yourusername
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, luca.fantilli and others
yourusername cbus you give me butterflies 🦋🩵
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user3 was it because of us or a certain someone in the crowd?
↳ user1 i was looking for these kinds of comments lol
luca.fantilli in case my brother doesn't say it, you're welcome
↳ user2 what does this meannnnnnnn
yourbff I love being your groupie!!
↳ yourusername you're more than that! you're my stagehand!
↳ yourbff yeah ok.
adamfantilli you're always welcome back
kentjohnson.13 my man is blushingggg
↳ user4 this is about adam right?
user4 oh my gosh i want her and adam to get together so baddd
adamfantilli
liked by yourusername, g.brindley4, yourbestfriend and others
adamfantilli always tying her shoes
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g.brindley4 did i miss a chapter?
↳ adamfantilli yeah sorry bud
user5 instinct tells me that those are y/n's shoes in the second slide
↳ user6 or maybe you're crazy
yourusername she's very lucky!
↳ adamfantilli she needs to invest in velcro shoes
↳ user1 OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING
yourusername
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, kentjohnson.13 and others
yourusername days off
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user1 what movie did you see?
↳ yourusername the new hunger games movie! so good!
kentjohnson.13 keep him in line!
adamfantilli i would hate to be on the receiving end of that glare
↳yourusername 🙄
y/nupdates
liked by user1, user 3, user 6
y/nupdates y/n and adam at a party recently!
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user1 i'm super happy for her but the second picture looks personal
↳ user 3 yeah I was going to say we should respect their privacy
user6 so cute but you should take these down
yourusername
liked by adamfantilli, bluejacketsnhl, yourbestfriend and others
yourusername hard launch? hard launch. 🦋👑🩵
tagged: adamfantilli
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yourbestfriend i thought you got that crown for me?
↳ yourusername i'm sorry adam asked to try it on. you're still my queen i promise
↳ adamfantilli i feel like i'm intruding on something
adamfantilli met you at the right time
↳ user1 stop not him quoting her songssss
↳ yourusername you're so cute
kentjohnson.13 blegh (you guys are very cute)
↳ adamfantilli aw that wasn't too hard was it?
adamfantilli
liked by yourusername, nhl, bluejacketsnhl and others
adamfantilli nhl awards
tagged: yourusername
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yourusername so proud of you! 🦋🩵
↳ adamfantilli loved having you by my side 🩵
bluejacketsnhl our #1 rookie!
user6 stop they're so cute I can't take it
g.brindley4 dripped out
yourusername
liked by adamfantilli, yourbestfriend, nhl and others
yourusername rookie of the year 🩵
tagged: adamfantilli
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adamfantilli you mean more than a trophy
↳ yourusername oh you sap
↳ kentjohnson.13 SAP
↳ g.brindley4 SAP
↳ luca.fantilli SAP
user1 i can't get over that i was at the same concert as adam and now they're dating
nhl congrats mr. y/n y/l/n 🦋🩵
↳ adamfantilli ouch
↳ yourusername don't take it personally babe
#adam fantilli x reader#adam fantilli imagine#adam fantilli#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#social media au#nhl x reader#hockey x reader#adam fantilli blurb
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Cry for the Moon
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader
Important Notes: I don’t think there is any use of she/her in this chapter but for future chapters, please don’t be surprised if other characters refer to the reader as she/her. And just like any other Fire Nation citizen, the reader has amber eyes. Other than that, I have given my best to avoid any further details about the reader but constructive criticism is always welcome!
Warnings: none
A/N: I am looking forward to your feedback on this very first chapter, personally the first ones are the hardest :) if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!
Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart
Credits to @lost-inthe-v0id for the main idea behind the story
“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” you spoke with a low voice as your hands reached the necklace Zuko was holding. It was past midnight, and you two had to be sleeping but – as always – you decided to sneak out to lay under the moonlight, enjoying the peace the night brought to the palace. “Did you do it yourself?”
Zuko nodded in a proud manner. “I have always loved the way the moonlight reflected from your amber eyes,” his words made you turn your gaze away, feeling heat rushing to your face. “So I wanted to capture that beautiful light in this amber stone as well.”
Apparently, he had somehow managed to melt the amber, place some tiny silver pieces which looked like stars, and then form the amber in a crescent moon.
“Do you want me to help you put it on?”
You nodded, gathering your hair on your left shoulder. “I love it,” you spoke as you laid your left hand on the necklace, your eyes finding Zuko’s. “Thank you.”
Slowly, Zuko’s left hand found your right one, which was resting on the grass, and held it tight. “Once I become the Fire Lord and make you my Fire Lady, I will gift you the finest of jewels.”
A small smile formed on your lips, he was always so eager to show his love – you adored it. “That sounds lovely,” your left hand was still on the necklace as you spoke. “But I cannot imagine a better gift than this.” Zuko’s face lit up almost immediately. “Every time I look at it, I will remember how lucky we are to have each other.”
Zuko left an innocent kiss on your forehead, his lips were warm against your skin. “You are my favourite person in this world.”
Waves crashing against the ship woke you up from the dream – a memory from the life of a different person. Unconsciously, you moved your left hand to your neck, only to find emptiness there. There was no necklace. There hasn’t been a necklace for over three years.
Your mind was playing tricks on you now that you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw the Banished Prince.
Realising that sleep was not going to be easy to find, you wrapped yourself in your red gown and went outside, only to find the Princess there on the front deck. The cold wind of the ocean was causing you to use your breath of fire as you walked towards her.
Azula didn’t even look to see the owner of the footsteps, she could recognise you anytime. “Having trouble sleeping?” She asked, but it was rather a rhetorical question.
You nodded as you stood next to her, your hands rested on the railings. “Sometimes I feel like my dreams hate me,” you muttered. “What’s your excuse? Please don’t tell me you have been up all night, again.”
The Princess simply shrugged; her amber eyes were fixed on the waves. You heaved a sigh.
“Azula, darling, even you need to sleep once in a while.” You spoke with a tender voice, which caused Azula to look at you. “Do you really want your failure of a brother to see a slipping version of yourself just because you were too stubborn to admit that you were sleepy?”
“But I am not done calculating all the possible scenarios for tomorrow,” she spoke with a low voice that wanted to sound stubborn but in the end, she was just tired. “I must be ready for anything.”
Gently, you wrapped your left arm around Azula’s waist. Growing up together – and especially after Zuko was banished – you two had developed a special bond, perhaps such that Azula hadn’t shared with anyone before. Not even with her mother.
“Sleep deprived Azula won’t have the same capacity as a well-rested Azula – we have talked about this before.” You were slowly making both of you walk inside. “Your body needs to rest, your mind as well. With a crystal-clear mind, you will finish your calculations in no time tomorrow, I am sure of it.”
She would never admit it, but Azula loved the way you had this soft spot for her – it was too easy to read it from her eyes if one had known her long enough.
“Plus, sleep deprivation is bad for your skin – you will get dark rings under your eyes. Nobody wants that.”
Azula let out a chuckle as you stopped in front of her chambers. “You do know how to get to me.”
You let her waist go as you adjusted your red gown. “As long as you allow me to, Princess.” Your voice carried the hints of affection, sympathy, and loyalty. “I intend to be there to get to you, to assist you, and to kill for you, when you need me to.”
The edge of Azula’s lips curled upwards upon hearing you. “Allow yourself to rest,” she spoke as she walked into her chamber. “I can see that having to see Zuzu after all these years is starting to trouble you – I need you to bury the ghosts from the past.”
“We both know that the ghosts have all been buried long ago,” you said before heading back to your room. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here with you today.”
At least, that was what you had believed for the past three years – that all the flames from the past were snuffed out – until Azula visited you in your chambers a week ago.
[Flashback]
You giggled as you ran your fingers through Shuzi’s smooth, dark hair; his head was rested on your lap as he laid on your bed. It had been a peaceful morning with Shuzi surprising you with breakfast in bed – apparently, he had been in the kitchens, preparing your breakfast on his own, declining any kind of help offered by the servants.
“Do you have any plans for today?” Shuzi asked, his amber eyes wandering on your face.
“You know that I need to keep up with learning the languages,” you responded as your hand moved down to cup his face. “And I have this family dinner later today.”
Shuzi pouted in a playful way. “Won’t I get to see my girlfriend for the rest of the day?” he spoke imitating a baby’s voice, which caused you to giggle once again. “That’s too long!”
Before you could lean in and leave a small kiss on his nose, the doors to your chambers were opened to reveal Azula standing outside. She was already in her royal uniforms but without the armour – compared to the sleeping robes you still wore. Which made you realise that you hadn’t even combed your hair.
“Aw, adorable,” Azula spoke with a rather soft tone which sounded a bit too sarcastic and caused Shuzi you sit up straight. “Shuzi, give us a moment.”
Of course, just like everyone else in the Fire Nation, Shuzi wouldn’t dare make the Princess repeat herself. Hence, he quickly stood up, gathered his stuff, placed a quick kiss on your lips and left your chambers. As the servants closed the doors, you raised a questioning eyebrow at Azula.
“He is not a puppy, you know.”
Azula made herself comfortable on your couch while watching you walk towards the table to pour yourself some tea – it was still warm enough. “Well, he certainly allows himself to be used as one.” She responded, causing you to heave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, please – only a fool could miss the way you get him to do everything for you.” Azula crossed her right leg over the left one. “A little bit girlish coquetry, a little bit kissing and congratulations! You get the finest top knot pin with rubies and black diamonds.”
Holding the tea with your both hands, you turned back to face Azula, the eyebrow still arched. “Azula, there is no need to be jealous over something so small – you are the princess, you can literally get anything you want at any time.”
“Me? Jealous?” Azula let out her well-known, condescending laughter. “You have said it yourself – I am the Princess. There isn’t possibly a person in this world that I could ever be jealous of.”
Once again, you heaved a sigh – Azula knew very well that you could see through her almost all the time for you knew her way too well. However, at moments like this, she would show the Ozai in herself by pretending that the deep connection you shared didn’t even exist.
Sometimes, you tended to get mad at her for such behaviour, but you tried to remind yourself why Azula acted the way she did and how you could heal her – and it wasn’t by approaching her the same horrible way Ozai had been doing for all these years.
“Azula..?”
The Princess brushed you off and you decided not to push further, you would probably have more private time with her after the day was over. “Anyways, I have some exceptionally important news for you.”
You took a long sip from your tea as you leant the table behind you. “I am all ears.”
“Father has assigned me a crucial task after the recent outrageous failure in the North,” Azula began explaining and you simply nodded – not that you believed the failure to be outrageous but to signal her to continue.
The moment you had heard about the plans to siege the Northern Watertribe from your father, you had known it was not going to work out the way Ozai had fashioned it to. There was a reason why the North hadn’t even received a single blow in the last hundred years.
Azula slowly stood up. “I am to stop Zuzu and Uncle from further disgracing my family. Father wants me to capture them and bring back as prisoners of the Fire Nation.”
“Will you be sailing to Earth Kingdom, then?” You asked with a curious look in your amber eyes.
“We will be sailing to Earth Kingdom.” Azula corrected you with a smirk on her lips. “I want you to come with me on this mission.”
The teacup between your hands fell down onto the ground, breaking into million pieces.
[Flashback ends]
Sleep hadn’t been eager to pull you into its soothing embrace that night. Before going on to this mission with Azula, your only concern had been whether you would miss Shuzi or not – well, you two hadn’t really spent several days apart ever since you got together. You being a noble resident in the Royal Palace due to your father’s military work and Shuzi’s family being the Fire Lord’s foremost advisors, you two could easily spend any night together at your chambers.
However, instead of missing Shuzi’s arms wrapped around your body at night, you had found yourself missing the peaceful sleep which wasn’t haunted by the ghosts from your past. It disturbed you greatly that even the anticipation of getting to see Zuko after three long years was starting to disrupt everything you had built since he was gone.
It hadn’t been easy to rebuild – no, it had been the most painful thing you had ever done in your sixteen years of life and you certainly did not intend to let the Banished Prince burn your whole world to ashes.
Not this time.
#prince zuko#atla zuko#zuko x reader#the last airbender#avatar the last airbender#princess azula#zuko#zuko x oc
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I Choose Her | Chp: 17
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 3.9k
Warnings: plot heavy, a sprinkle of fluff , smut (?) , dark themes
Note: hi! sorry this one took so long i'm not even going to get into it, what's important is that it's finally here lol I'd say there's maybe 2 more chapters left of this story including the epilogue. i'm not too sure yet, but we are definitely nearing the end which is sort of bitter sweet.. but anyway, as always i hope you enjoy this one!
Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character
“Here, this should do.” Hermione states in a hushed tone whilst dragging you behind a pillar to hide.
You stood behind her as she retrieved the cloak of invisibility from her bag, quickly draping it over the both of you.
Hermione pulls you even closer to remain as hidden as possible, so you instinctively wrap your arms around her torso.
You were allowed limited time to devise a plan as Snape summoned all students out of bed, all ordered to assemble in the Great Hall at once.
Harry made the impulsive decision to hide amongst the crowd of students so he may confront the Headmaster. The rest of you are forced to follow his lead, entirely improvising as you go.
Despite yourself, you do hope that Ron has managed to sneak out of the castle in time to fetch the other members of the Order.
The Dark Lord and his followers are expected to march against Hogwarts any minute now, Harry needs all the help he can get.
-
Hogwarts always felt vaguely warm and comfortable to you, but now it is dense and inhospitable. You hardly recognised it anymore.
It is consistently hard to catch your breath, and you can't seem to ignore the uncomfortable chill running down your spine.
Hermione's presence being your only source of comfort, during a time that you otherwise found utterly debilitating.
“Well, I don't know about you but this is quite nice. I really wouldn't mind staying like this with you, forever.” You attempt to lighten the mood as you further pressed your front against Hermione's back, earning a light chuckle in response.
“Honestly, I wouldn't mind either.” Hermione leans back slightly allowing you to place a quick kiss on her cheek before standing upright once more.
Your girlfriend keeps her eyes on the large group of students marching past, in anomalous unison. The sounds of their rhythmic footsteps echo through the halls. Not a single word is uttered amongst them.
You can feel Hermione tense against your hold, as if she was trying to fight a similar feeling of deep and inescapable unease.
The final group of students enter through the doors, the large wooden panels shut with a large thud.
Then, it is only silence, you can only hear the sound of your own breathing, the loud thumping of your raised heartbeat in your ears.
“Y/n..” Hermione's voice is a welcomed distraction from the unbearable quiet, it nearly makes you smile.
“Yes, darling.” You respond, the other woman turns slightly so she may look at you as she speaks.
“I've been thinking..” Hermione starts. “It is no use that we find the other Hocruxes if we don't have the means to destroy it.”
Hermione's words make you pause. Truth be told, it hadn't even occurred to you until now. You had been so caught up in trying to locate the next object that you had entirely forgotten you no longer had the sword of Gryffindor in your possession.
“There's no chance we can take back the sword.. not now.” You think aloud, searching your mind for a solution. Hermione releases a groan at that, frustration and defeat. “I know.”
Then it occurs to you, a miraculous solution to your issue, or a shot in the dark, you were not yet certain.
“The Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets..” You trail off, now capturing Hermione's full attention. “What happened to it after Harry slayed it?” You ask, hoping your girlfriend will give you the answer you were looking for.
“Nothing, it's still there, left to decay in the Chamber.” Hermione replies, and a beat passes where nothing is said between you, but your girlfriend manages to catch up to your train of thought anyway.
“If we find a way to the chamber we can retrieve the Basilisk fang from the skeleton and destroy the Hocrux.” Your girlfriend voices the contents of your mind for you.
“With some luck.” You add.
Then, Hermione grins, a look of relief washes over her. Still underneath the cloak Hermione manages to turn around, she loops her arms around your neck, quickly guiding you in for a searing kiss, one that leaves your lips tingling even moments after she has pulled away.
“You are brilliant.” Hermione utters, and this time it is your turn to smile.
“That's all you, my love.” You quip. Watching as Hermione makes a face in contentment before turning away from you once again.
Snape's voice can be faintly heard from where the two of you were standing, you tried to listen but Hermione's kiss ignited something within you. A sudden sense of serenity, now you are convinced that everything will turn out as you plan, as if you weren't currently in imminent danger.
As you held Hermione in your arms you allowed yourself to forget the threat of battle, if only for a few moments.
You can't hardly help the way your hand slips underneath her sweater, you feel her goosebumps forming underneath your touch as your palm grazes her bare stomach.
This only works to urge you on as you carefully part her hair away from her neck, so you may plant gentle kisses against her warm flesh. Hermione's eyes flutter shut at the sensation, and you can hear her breath quickening.
Although, you aren't allowed to carry on for long as she finally places her hand atop yours, removing it from underneath her top.
“Stop distracting me, I am trying to listen.” Hermione scolds, half-heartedly, her tone makes you smirk, a fire threatens to ignite, but you relent.
You could still only make out bits and pieces of what the Headmaster was saying, and nothing coherent.
Soon deciding that you needed to get closer to the doors if you hoped to find out what was going on inside. You observed the lack of teachers roaming the halls, it appears you and Hermione were alone.
“Let's move closer.” You suggest, pulling the cloak off both of you so you may move freely.
“Alright.” Hermione agrees, clutching your hand as you advance forward together.
Through the crack in the door, you are able to spot Snape, on the podium, addressing the students, the Carrows standing by either side of him.
“Punished in a matter consistent with the severity of their transgression.”
“Any person to have knowledge.. who fails to come forward, will be treated as equally guilty.”
You listened as the Headmaster continued hurling his veiled threats towards the group of blameless students. It makes your blood run cold and it appears Hermione felt as equally unsettled by Snape's words.
“Now then, If anyone here has any knowledge of Mr Potter's movements this evening. I invite them to step forward.. now.” Snape's words are met with complete silence, and your belly tightens with nauseating suspense.
The sound of sudden footsteps that echo from behind the two of you breaks the tantalizing quiet. It makes you whirl around in a panic, only for you to spot Ron next to his brother, Shacklebolt behind him and then the rest of the Order.
“What's going on?” Ron asks, looking between you and Hermione, and you merely hold your hand up to silence him as Hermione continues peeking through the crack.
The next thing that can be heard is a mass of gasps coming from the other side of the doors, students muttering amongst themselves. Before you can question it, the sound of Harry's voice validates your anxiety.
You freeze, whereas Hermione merely steps forward, bracing her hand against the door, as if prepared to push it open, ready to come to Harry's defense.
“It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you seem to have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.” Harry's voice can be heard clearly as Hermione pushes the wooden doors open, you along with the rest of the Order follow her lead, now wands in hand, entering the hall as a group.
All eyes are now on you, more gasps in disbelief as you all stood behind Harry.
You then make the mistake of letting your eyes wander, it doesn't take long before you catch Pansy's gaze. Her stare, hardened and unforgiving enough to make you look away in an instant. You decide to focus your attention ahead.
Harry's harsh voice makes the walls in the hall vibrate.
“How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night, tell them how you look him in the eye, a man who trusted you and killed him.”
Harry continues to taunt the Headmaster, all he is granted with is silence, for a long moment, until Snape retrieves his wand.
He points it at Harry but before The Chosen One is allowed a chance to properly react, he is shoved out of the way, Professor McGonagall shielding him with her person.
It all happens quickly, the Professor flings spell after spell at the Headmaster, and everyone can merely observe with bated breaths as Snape deflected every blow.
The Headmaster lifts his wand to shield himself but this time the curse rebounds. As a result, the Carrows fall, unconscious.
Professor McGonagall steps closer but before she can attack once again, Snape is no longer upright as he quickly transfigures into a black mass, apparating out of the window behind him. The broken glass falls with a large crash.
A stunned silence before an eruption of cheers from the bystanders. Celebrating the Professor's triumph.
Hermione glances at you with a similar look of relief, but the both of you recognize that it is fleeting.
Just as you expected, the moment of joy is over as quickly as it began. The mark on your arm, what was a dull ache turns into a searing pain, so sudden and paralyzing that it knocks you to the ground, still clutching your arm.
Hermione rushes to your side, but before she can attempt to question what was wrong Harry can also be seen collapsing onto the floor in front of you.
You catch a glimpse of Hermione's panicked expression, she turns to her best friend and then to you. Your girlfriend attempts to speak to you but you cannot hear her.
The pain in your arm has now spread, you shut your eyes tightly as you endured it. The hall grows dark once again, stagnant and cold. A spine chilling voice of the Dark Lord echoes through the air, easily distinguishable and unsettling.
Soon there is a mass of screams coming from each corner of the room, students plugging their ears in terror.
Lord Voldermort aims to convey a message; a threat.
Hermione is holding you tightly against her own body, the pain in your arm is finally reduced to a dull ache once again.
“I know that many of you will want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is folly.”
“Give me Harry Potter, do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded.”
“You have one hour.”
The Dark Lord's attempt to entice has merely immobilized everyone for a prolonged moment.
You finally get back on your feet, Hermione does not let go of you still. “Are you alright?” She manages to find the words and you only nod in response.
As you glanced around the room, you realized that once again, all eyes are on Harry. This time the stares are hostile, some uncertain, others, plain terror.
Pansy's voice is first to break the tense stillness. “What are you waiting for? Someone grab him.” She points to The Chosen One.
Ginny is first to step in front of Harry, followed by Ron, Hermione, yourself and the rest of the Order follow suit.
As Pansy catches your stare again she scoffs, this time your hardened expression mirrors her own.
“Mr Filch, if you would, I would like you to please escort Ms Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house from the hall.” Professor McGonagall orders the caretaker of the castle.
The man emerges from the crowd, his tired long haired cat in his arms. “Where exactly will I be leading them to, Maam?” He asks.
“The dungeons would do.” The Professor quickly states. This makes Hermione reach down to hold your hand once again, you respond by intertwining your fingers.
There was more sudden applause from the students as they celebrated Mr Filch leading the other Slytherins out of the hall.
As expected, you notice Pansy walking towards you, and you make the hasty decision to turn away so you could hopefully avoid her. However, you don't get the chance to try as she gets close enough to grab your collar harshly, then you react on instinct, getting a tight hold on her wrist.
“Fucking traitor.” She hisses, the sudden nature of the interaction makes you wince.
You open your mouth to speak but Hermione quickly steps in. “Let go of her, or I swear you will be leaving this hall with no hands.” There is enough vitriol in her voice to make anyone cower, but Pansy was not yet done, in fact she barely acknowledges your girlfriend at all.
“If I had known you were with your muggle pet this entire time..” Pansy trails off, she shakes her head slightly, repulsed.
“You're an embarrassment. I can hardly believe I ever considered you a friend.” Pansy retorts.
The same Pansy you have known since first year. You can't help the pang in your chest, her words manage to graze you.
She grants you a scowl before storming off, Blaise follows immediately after her, having listened to the entire interaction. He bumps his own shoulder against yours before slipping past, purposefully setting you off balance.
You held your tongue, reminding yourself to remain calm.
When you turn to Hermione once more the look plastered on her face makes you ache. She recognizes your hurt, and she can't help but feel it too. “Y/n–” She starts but you quickly interject with a change of topic.
“I have half a mind to carve this thing out of me.” You quip, only partly joking. The dark mark now stifled by your sleeve.
Your joke doesn't translate, in fact it only urges Hermione to worry about you more. “You will do no such thing.” She warns with furrowed brows as she reaches up to fix the collar of your shirt, badly creased from Pansy's fury.
Hermione's own wrath yet to dissipate, you feel it in the way her hand trembles.
You smile faintly at her in gratitude, in an endless sea of chaos, she is your helm.
As the rest of the students begin clearing the hall, Harry rushes past as well, urging Ron, y/n and Hermione to follow. “Come on.” He exclaims without looking back.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
Terror pollutes the air surrounding Hogwarts, contagious and unrelenting. It infects everyone, guiding and inspiring frantic behaviour.
As all the Professors remain in the outer courtyard, securing the castle, students are left indoors to their own devices. Everyone is pushing, shoving. Coming and going. No one knows what to do, the only thing that's certain is that fear hangs over them a dark cloud enveloping all.
“Harry, wait!” Hermione exclaims, trying to get her friend's attention but dark haired man barrels forward, Ron by his side.
Your finally manage to catch up to him, Hermione tugs on Harry's arm, forcefully urging him to look at her.
“I've had an idea– well really it's Y/n's idea it's completely brilliant.” Hermione gestures towards you as she raises her voice slightly so she may be heard over the commotion.
Harry stares at you, inquisitive yet impatient so you decide speak quickly. “It doesn't matter if we find the Hocrux unless we can destroy it.” You say.
“You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with the Basilisk fang, right?” You question rhetorically but Harry nods regardless.
“Well, Hermione and I think we know where we might find one.” You add vaguely, a precaution against prying ears.
“Okay, fine– but take this” Harry seems only half present in the conversation now, he is not even looking at you as he retrieves the Marauder's Map from his pocket.
You grab the bit of parchment, admittedly perplexed by his response. “That way you can find me when you get back.” Harry explains and you nod.
The Chosen One turns to continue up the stairs without looking back, Ron blindly trails after him, it seems asking Harry questions now will only slow them down.
“Where are you two going?” Hermione on the other hand cannot contain her curiosity.
“Ravenclaw Common Room. We've got to start somewhere.” He explains, practically shouting above the clamour.
As Ron and Harry dissapear into the crowd
Hermione quickly intertwines your hand with her own, dragging you up the stairs in the opposite direction. “Come on, this way.”
–
The girl's lavatory remained vacant as you both made your way down the long winding slope, a pile of something soft breaks your harsh landing, in the darkness you are not able to make out what it might be.
The chamber was dark, every surface caked with dust, you can feel it in your lungs everytime you took a breath. No doubt the chambers has been left entirely untouched since the event all those years ago.
Every step you took echoed towards the void, the faint noise of critters scampering on the walls was enough to unsettle you.
“Lumos.” Hermione says with her wand in hand, illuminating your path. It was only then you had the sense to do the same with your own.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
You finally get to the entrance but only to realize it is locked, intricate stone carvings of serpents mounted proudly on the door; a warning.
You inspect it carefully, but there is no visible keyhole any clues of how to unlock it.
Hermione bravely places her hands upon it, a feeble attempt to pry the heavy door open, but it is no use.
She sighs, exasperated.
“Any ideas?” Hermione looks to you, desperate.
You remained silent as you deliberated, your first instinct was to enter with force, throw a curse large enough to hopefully break apart the stone door atleast enough for the both of you to fit through.
That plan does not come without it's risks, you set it aside for now.
You begin considering other solutions, and naturally your mind involuntarily turns to the events surrounding the chamber of secrets all those years ago, your second year at Hogwarts.
The perpetual anxiety that plagued you, and every other student in the castle. Everyday, the Basilisk claimed a new victim and for several weeks, you were only allowed to wonder who it might choose next.
You distinctly recall the way Draco reacted to it all, how he insisted on learning parseltongue so he could gain control of the beast. Feeding into the widespread fear that Harry was the true heir of Slytherin. That he would target him next if he did not learn how to defend himself.
Countless nights where your best friend would stay up memorizing phrases in parseltongue, certain that he would then gain the ability to control the beast if it ever came after him.
Whether he was driven by jealousy or plain and simple fear is unclear, but Draco's relentless efforts, as a result, forcefully imprinted the unfamiliar dialect into your vocabulary.
Although, time certainly did it's duty, and now you are only able to recall certain words.
You wonder if it will perhaps still be enough to possibly unlock the door to the chamber.
“I have an idea, but it might not work.” You reply, although entirely lacking confidence.
Hermione doesn't share your doubts, she nods assuredly eventhough she has no notion of what you intend to do. “Go on then.”
You speak the words ‘door’, ‘snake’, and ‘open’ in parseltongue. With your limited knowledge, you cannot hope to form a complete sentence, but luckily enough, the chamber unlocks. The heavy door opens, wide and eerily inviting.
Hermione stares at you wide-eyed in bewilderment. “How–” She tries but you only start forward towards the door.
“Long story– if we survive this I'll tell you all about it.” You quip as you made way for Hermione to step inside before you.
═══════════════════════════════════════════
As it seems your streak of luck has yet to wear off as you succeed in extracting the Basilisk fang. It was just as Hermione said, all flesh has rotted away, now what was left of the beast was only it's skeleton, set to fossilise with time.
The both of you stood unmoving, hovering over the Hufflepuff cup, readying yourselves for the next step. “You do it.” You extend your arm so Hermione may grab the fang but she quickly shakes her head in protest.
“No, I can't.” She admits but your gaze doesn't falter, courteous and true, you grab her hand.
“Yes, you can.” You state, lightly forcing the fang into her grasp, and she remains hesitant but accepts it anyway.
“I'll be right here if anything happens.” You reassure with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Hermione moves to crouch next to the cup and you do the same, holding it in place.
Your girlfriend glances at you a last time for reassurance and you can only nod. As Hermione lifts her arm with the Basilisk fang in hand, you hold your breath.
In an instant she brings her arm straight down, the tip of the sharp tooth proved sturdy enough to pierce through the ancient relic. The Hufflepuff Cup begins spinning uncontrollably, as if trying to escape the cause of its injury.
Then, the room awakens, the body of water once still on either sides of the pathway you stood suddenly rises in anger.
The water continues to twist and shape itself into a horrifying sight, the same vision of Voldermort that tormented you when you destroyed the locket.
You grab Hermione's hand, pulling her away from danger, but the being follows you until there was nowhere else to run, you fish out your wand from your pocket but before you can attempt anything, water crashes down onto the both of you.
You are soaked and breathless, but the room was asleep once more. It is over.
Another Horcrux is destroyed, and air sharply fills your lungs. “You did it.” You state with true relief and Hermione doesn't respond, not with words.
In one large stride she is directly infront if you, her lips against yours. The kiss shocks your entire system. Open-mouthed, and aguished. Her hand is firmly against the nape of your neck, Hermione melts within your embrace and you react all the same. Before you can protest or question further, your girlfriend pulls away.
You stare at her, dazed and almost in a trance, consumed in everything and all Hermione. You nearly fail to notice the fact that she was removing her shoes, and then her jacket.
“What are you doing?” You remain staring at her, now with a hint of amusement, but mainly awe.
“We might die today.” Hermione states plainly, the nature of her words do not match her tone.
You observed as she removed her top, now leaving her in only her jeans and bra. She approaches you again, her hands slipping underneath your shirt, warm touch against damp skin makes you shiver in anticipation.
Then you feel her soft lips against the shell of your ear, and soon your jaw. “When I take my last breath I want to remember what it feels like to be with you.. all of you.” Hermione utters, her hands already moving to undo your belt.
#hermione granger imagine#hermione x reader#slytherin au#hermione granger#harry potter#hermione granger x reader#harry x hermione#hermione granger smut
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The currents of destiny
Chapter 2: Power hungry.
Summary: G'Axir shows Astarion what his life would be like had Tav carried on with the Ascension ritual.
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav
Word Count: 3.3k
Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.
[AO3 Link]
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NOTE: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS BEFORE PROCEEDING. DARK CHAPTER. THANK YOU.
Before Astarion could protest or question further, a blinding white light engulfed him and G'axir both. He felt himself being pulled through space and time, his body weightless and disoriented.
Suddenly, he regained control of his body. And his breath was caught in his throat: he was in front of Cazador, his master still alive and well. His companions were a few meters away, watching him with apprehension. In an incredible turn of events, he had been transported back in time to just a few hours earlier. He attempted to call out to them, but his mouth moved on its own before he could say anything.
"Help me do this, please"
Astarion's heart dropped as he realized what was happening. He was a helpless spectator, forced to watch his own actions unfold without any control. He watched Tav's face, the conflict swimming in her eyes.
"We would kill all these people... seven thousand, Astarion. Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.
"These people died years ago trust me on that. All that's left a feral spawn, desperate for blood. If we release them how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?" he replied, but he sensed he was trying to convince himself just as much as Tav.
In the past, this was the point when Tav had refused to assist him. Now, however, she looked torn, her brows furrowed as she considered his offer.
"If I complete the ritual... think of the power I'll have. With me by your side we can we can save the city - we can save ourselves!" Astarion could hear the desperation in his own voice and he hated himself for it.
He could feel everything his mind was going through at that moment: fear, hunger for power, and a sense of desperate urgency. But amidst it all, he also saw the turmoil reflected in Tav's eyes. He could see the internal struggle she was facing, the weight of the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders, something he hadn't noticed before.
After a few seconds, he could sense the parasite quivering inside his mind, the telltale sign that Tav was opening her mind to him. The moment their minds linked, Tav's presence flooded his senses, and he saw himself through her eyes, standing in front of Cazador, his back to her revealing the intricate design of his scars. He felt her emotions; the trembling anxiety and deep concern, but also the unwavering trust she had in him.
Despite himself, he couldn't help but be curious about the potential outcome. The power and control that completing this ritual would bring were too enticing to ignore. And with Tav's help, he could finally get revenge on Cazador and be truly free.
After that, the vision blurred and flashed, a dizzying array of images assaulting Astarion's mind. He saw himself marking Cazador's back with the complex patterns that adorned his own back. Then, the image shifted and he was throwing his master into the very place that should have been his. In that moment, a blinding flash of red washed over Astarion and he felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through his body. His senses were overloaded, his mind expanding to absorb all the knowledge and abilities that came with the ascension. It was like being struck by lightning, a rush that left him breathless and reeling. He repeated a series of words, an enchantment that felt unfamiliar on his tongue.
And after another flash, Astarion felt... nothing. No fear, no hunger, nothing at all. What is going on?
His surroundings slowly came into focus: the ground beneath him strewn with the bodies of his siblings, all lifeless and still. Blood stained the walls and floor, a stark contrast to the pristine stone that adorned them before. His body turned to look at Tav and his companions, who were still watching him from the sidelines. And they looked completely horrified at the sight.
"What have you done?!" Karlach screamed.
But his body, that other version of him, still didn't feel anything. The Ascended version of himself - stronger, more powerful than ever before – remained expressionless. A sickening realization hit him like a punch to the gut - his siblings, seven thousand souls, Sebastian, the Gur children... all dead because of him. And at that moment, Astarion felt a surge of guilt and shame wash over him. He couldn't believe what he had done. He had been consumed by his hunger for power, driven by his past self's desperation.
I didn't mean... I didn't think... Astarion stammered, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. But the words were lost in the void of his consciousness.
"Astarion…" Tav's voice was filled with disbelief and sadness. "Has this... really been worth it?" her voice cracked with disappointment, the sadness and guilt in her eyes too much for Astarion to bear.
He could feel the pain radiating off Tav. He needed to reach out, comfort her... but he couldn't. He was trapped inside his mind, a prisoner in his own flesh.
His body moved towards Tav slowly; reached out and cupped her cheek gently with its hand.
"I did it for you, for us," he whispered softly, running its thumb against her bruised and tear-streaked cheek.
And yet… as he saw the raw pain etched into her features; as he watched tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks; as he heard her whisper his name one more time – filled with sadness, disappointment, and an indescribable heartbreak – he felt nothing. His body felt nothing but pride and greed for more power. And the thought terrified him to his very core.
“Trust me, Tav,” His voice spoke on its own accord, before his consciousness was moving again.
He couldn't see anything else around him, just the overwhelming brightness that seemed to swallow him whole. When Astarion opened his eyes, the stone and debris had been replaced with pristine white walls adorned with elegant artwork. As he took in his new surroundings, a soft breeze tickled his skin and the gentle sounds of seagulls filled his ears. He was gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sparkling blue sea stretching out before him. He was no longer in the ruins of his past; he had been transported to a beautiful seaside bedroom.
Confusion filled his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this another vision? Or was this reality?
His body turned from the windows to the space next to him, and he realized Tav was standing in front of him, looking... tired. And bruised.
"I really can't believe you let me do that... killing all those people..." Ascended Astarion chuckled darkly, "such a pleasant surprise."
He saw the guilt etched on her face, the sadness. Astarion felt his stomach churn at the thought that Tav might hate him for what he had done. But I didn't mean to...
Astarion's body walked towards Tav, reaching out to cup her face gently in its hand. But instead of the usual warmth and tenderness he felt towards her, there was only disgust. His body was repulsed by her weakness.
"I... I just wanted what was best for you," she replied softly, looking at her hands.
"You sweet, sweet thing," His body spoke in a mocking tone, the hand that once held such tenderness now gripping Tav's chin tightly, making her look at him. "I want what's best for you too, of course. And... one wicked turn deserves another."
Wait, what? Astarion felt a cold and ugly realization seep into his mind. Could he really mean... No, he wouldn't...
"Isn't that what you want, pet?" his body continued.
No. No she doesn't want it. What is this?! Stop this! "I-I just want you to be happy. I want us to stay together," Tav's voice trembled as she tried to reason with his body.
"Is that so?" His body countered. "You're the one that I want, the one that I love and you could be so much more if you want it. One little bite, and you could be mine, forever..." his ascended version said. But Astarion could taste de lie on his tongue. He wanted to make her his spawn.
And at that moment, Astarion felt pure unadulterated terror like he had never felt before. No! No no no! Astarion screamed, clawing at the invisible bars of his conscience. Please, no! Not her! Astarion's screams echoed inside his head as he watched his body move closer to Tav, his eyes glinting with hunger and desire for control. But it was no use. He was trapped inside his own nightmare, forced to relive the horrors of his past as he became the monster that once ruled over him.
His body was now leaning towards her, close enough to feel her soft breath against his lips, close enough to see the fear in her eyes – a fear he could not respond to. "Say it, love," it cooed dangerously, its voice a haunting echo of seductive promises.
"I... I..." Tav stuttered, her trembling hands tightly clutching the front of his shirt.
"Are you ready to join me? To accept this immortal gift? Say yes..." a commanding whisper slipped past his lips against his will, dark hunger coursing through his body. Astarion felt his soul scream in agony, unable to alter the horrible course he had set them on. Because he already knew that look in her eyes, that determination. It was the look she had when standing up for him against his siblings, the one she wore while letting him drink from her every night, the look she gave him on the night she confessed her love. The look that said she would do anything and everything for him.
Slowly, her lips moved, and a small whisper escaped them. "I love you..."
No! Astarion's soul shrieked inside his mind, but the body wasn't listening. Astarion tried to push back against the darkness, to will his body to do something, anything, to stop itself.
As tears streamed down her face, she whispered a tearful "yes." He longed to comfort her, to promise that everything would be okay and to protect her from the monstrous version of himself.
But it was too late.
His physical form gave into a cruel grin as she submitted to his will, and Astarion could feel its disgust at her degradation, at her weakness.
"I knew you'd come around..."
His body gently captured Tav's soft weeping face between his hands, his thumbs brushing away the mournful tears on her cheeks. "Such a good girl," his voice was honeyed darkness, "You'll be so beautiful... everlasting... My dark consort."
His body slowly pushed Tav down to the floor, her back resting against the cold stone. It was a cruel twist of fate that the one person who had shown him kindness and acceptance would now become his first slave. Tav closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. The irony wasn't lost on Astarion, he was giving her a lover's kiss before death.
As his body pulled away from the kiss, his icy fingers traced down from her throat to the collar of her shirt. He slowly peeled it off to bare her neck, not breaking eye contact. "Tonight I shall drink every drop of your blood, own your body, kill your mind. It will hurt a bit, but worry not; the pleasure will be far greater than the pain." his body said, grinning wolfishly at Tav who was paralyzed in fear, yet rooted in love.
She was heaving, fear evident in her features. "P-please, just... be gentle."
No! Please, don't kill her! Not her! Astarion's conscience screamed for him to stop, to save the woman he loves from this fate. But he was powerless, trapped inside his own body as it lowered its head towards her exposed neck. The scent of her blood, warm and sweet filled his nostrils. His fangs bore into her flesh and released a mouthful of hot crimson life that made Astarion's instinctual heart pound with excitement even as his soul recoiled in horror.
He felt completely helpless as he witnessed his own body draining the life from Tav, not even able to look away. He was forced to listen to her soft gasps and whimpers, unable to do anything to stop it. The person he loved more than anyone else was slowly dying at his own hands. He could do nothing but watch as she lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, her once vibrant skin now pale and her lips lacking their usual rosy color. Those same lips that he had loved to kiss and watch curve into an easy smile were now still and lifeless.
If he could have shed tears, he would have wept in despair and regret. If he were in his own physical form, he knew he would be retching now. But he could do nothing but scream and claw, the pain all consuming in his soul.
After what seemed like an eternity, his body finally pulled away from Tav's neck and stood up straight. He wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and looked down at Tav's lifeless body with a sense of triumph.
"You were delicious as always, dear," his voice echoed inside Astarion's mind.
And just like that, he was once again drifting through the vast emptiness of space. But his exhaustion and defeat were so overwhelming that he couldn't bring himself to care.
When the light faded after what seemed like hours, Astarion found himself standing in a familiar place - Cazador's Palace once again. But this time, it was... different. At first, he couldn't pinpoint it. But then, he noticed: the paintings on the wall didn't depict his former master anymore. He froze as he watched the stranger with white hair and red eyes watching him from the portrait. The man's face was unknown, but something about him felt...familiar. Remnants from another life.
He couldn't look away from those piercing red eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. His body stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch the painting.
And he realized, it wasn't a stranger; it was himself. Older, more weathered, and with a haunting look in his red eyes. The first time he was seeing his face in 200 years. His finger slid over the canvas, feeling the rough texture beneath his touch. There was pride emanating from this version of himself and it sent shivers down his spine.
What is this? he whispered inside his mind, his voice cracking with emotion.
The realm of possibilities... that might have unfolded had you embraced ascension... your destiny left unfulfilled... G'axir's voice echoed through his subconscious.
Astarion's stomach churned as his body moved around the room. Everything had been changed. The furniture was placed differently, new artwork adorned the walls, but it still retained its eerie and dark atmosphere as it did with his old master. As he traversed down a never-ending corridor, his steps echoed loudly in the eerie silence. Servants scurried past him, their heads bowed in reverence. But there was something off about them, almost as if they were under some sort of spell. Their movements were stiff and mechanical, and their eyes lacked any emotion or life.
After what felt like an eternity, his body finally reached the grand dining hall. Two servants dressed in impeccably crisp uniforms opened the massive doors for him. The room was filled with the warm, flickering light of numerous candles, illuminating the extravagant decorations adorning the walls. A long table stretched across the room, set with elegant china and silverware that could only belong to a king. But there was no one sitting at the table, creating a strange emptiness in the room. His body continued past the elaborate table, towards a magnificent throne that now stood at the far end of the room.
No. No, no, no.
There, atop the throne, draped in garments more regal than his master Cazador had ever let him wear, sat Tav. Her skin was nearly translucent, veins snaking just beneath the surface like tendrils of a creeping vine. Her eyes radiated an unnatural crimson glow that revealed her spawn nature. Tav's face held no familiarity in its gaze; only vacant submission under her crimson eyes. She looked nothing like the woman he had known - stubborn, fierce, and full of life. Now all that remained was an empty shell drained of hope and vitality, turned into a puppet. The sight of it made his stomach flip. This could not be happening. It was a nightmare.
He watched, appalled, as his body ascended the steps to the throne with a predatory grace. She, on the other hand, stood from the throne, head bowed in submission. He took his place on the seat, pulling Tav onto his lap. She sat there silently, not moving or uttering a single word.
I'm so sorry Astarion whispered brokenly inside his head.
And then, horror upon horror, his body began to speak.
"My beautiful pet," he murmured into the hollow of her neck. "Isn't it a delight to see how far we've come?"
She met the gaze of her new master with an impassive face - a puppet on strings. "Of course. I couldn't be happier, my lord," she replied, though her face remained impassive, not even a ghost of an emotion flickering in her eyes. Her body seemed rigid, save for the slight tremble that shook her form.
She didn't fight back or resist, which only fueled the anger of his ascended self. He could sense its thoughts; how she was now dull and uninteresting, lacking all the fire and fight that she once had.
"Ah, so compliant..." his mouth whispers, tracing a thumb along her jawline - a horribly intimate act that made Astarion's heart lurch in revulsion. "But you've been very bad, trying to sneak out at night," his body continued, pressing its lips against Tav's neck in a mock kiss. "And you know what we do to naughty pets..."
Astarion's mind was filled with revulsion and disgust at the scene happening before him. His worst fear had come true: he had used and abused her feelings until there was nothing left of the person she used to be. He couldn't believe he had almost let himself become so consumed by power. He couldn't believe he had begged for Tav to turn him into this. Into... his master.
He had everything he had ever wanted: power, control, and Tav by his side. And yet, holding all this in his grasp, his body felt empty. Devoid of any emotion. The ritual had given him everything he had hoped for, and he had paid the price with his soul.
"Now," the voice continued, "I think it’s time you show your master just how truly sorry you are."
Ascended Astarion's hand tightened around her throat as he dragged her towards his lips. She struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm and gasping for air, but he was too strong.
"NO! Astarion, please!" She begged, out of breath.
Astarion was panicking, searching for a way out of this nightmare. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free from his own body's control. As Astarion's mind reached its breaking point, G'Axir's voice echoed back in his head.
In your gaze... the aftermath unfolds... revealing the life consumed by an insatiable hunger for power. G'Axir supplies in his mind. Prepared to venture forth... into the next glimpse?
Astarion could feel his sanity slipping away as he pleaded, Stop this, I beg you! I will do anything but please get me the fuck out of here!
And finally, the vision stopped.
Note: Oof, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, hard torturous version. I promise next chapters will be lighter than this one. Also, I think I have left my Astarion traumatized (even more).
LMK if you want to be added to a taglist :)
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#astarion ancunin#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#bg3#bg3 fanfic prompt#bg3 tav#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#baldurs gate fanfiction#baldurs gate 3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion#baldur's gate 3#fanfic#astarion x you
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