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#only a few more days of lockdown
maigetheplatypus57 · 1 year
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bro imagine coming home from your grandfather's funeral and you remember that it's Limited Life Friday so you start watching grian's new episode and the bad boys get fucking changed into mourning clothes for the bread bridge can you imagine just how fucking wild my day has been for me emotionally???
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htylmg · 1 year
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it’s barely been a day after the allen shooting like 20 minutes away from my house and my school district is getting terrorist threats to a middle school
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secretmellowblog · 6 months
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People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.
The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.
But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.
The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.
This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.
Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.
So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-
And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—
And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!
If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.
The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.
It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)
I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.
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I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.
The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win
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stillmonsterz · 1 month
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you know i'm down
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pairing: jay x reader
genre: smut
summary: it's march 2020 and you're stuck in the house with your stepfather during lockdown. can the two of you keep it together?
warnings: stepcest, unprotected sex, swearing, dubcon, panty-sniffing, virus mention, COVID implication (?),
word count: 3.8k
--
“Yeah. Yeah, I know, things are getting crazy, but try to keep your head up, yeah? You’ll be safe,” Jay said into his phone, his forehead creasing as he spoke. His newly wedded wife had taken a trip to visit her mother shortly after their marriage, but now the government was advising that she stay where she was. The news was scaring her, and it scared Jay, too, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was her steadfast protector, her bastion, and so he reassured her that everything would be okay.
“And you’ll take care of her too, yes?” she asked firmly, referring to her daughter.
“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of her like she’s mine,” Jay said, rubbing his forehead. “I promise.”
“You’re so good with her,” his wife said. “You know, she really likes you, right?”
“I really like her, too,” Jay said softly, and it was the truth. His wife and her daughter had moved in with him three short months ago, and neither of them had caused trouble. On the contrary: Jay wished that he could see more of her daughter so they could be closer. He wanted to be a good stepfather, but she was always holed up inside of her room.
They exchanged goodbyes, I love yous, and promises to stay safe, and then Jay was alone on the couch with his own thoughts. If he sat there for too long, stewing in fear, he would lose his mind. Jay turned the television on and checked the news. They were strongly advising people to stay put for at least two weeks, and Jay made a mental note to coordinate with his employees about this in a few hours. No point riling people up and forcing them to worry about work so early in the day.
Jay was sitting on the couch with lips set in a line when you had tentatively crept down the stairs, worry etched on your features. He turned the television off and assessed you carefully. You were so similar to your mother in stature and facial features, but Jay doubted that his wife would ever don the dolphin shorts and hoodie combination you were so fond of wearing. Of course, you made it look cute. You shuffled over to him, wringing your hands. 
“Mom really can’t come back?” you asked, hovering near the other end of the couch.
Jay nodded, setting his phone on the side table. “Yeah, they really want to curb the spread of the virus,” he said, smoothing his hands down his legs. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s a lot of food at her mom’s house, and she won’t be alone. It’ll only be two weeks.”
Your lower lip trembled, and you looked away from Jay as you tried to calm yourself down. You rubbed your hands along your arms, and Jay could see that you had goosebumps. “You don’t think she got it, do you?” you asked in a wavering voice. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.” When you refused, obstinately staring at the ground, his voice became firm. “Look at me.”
You lifted your head, and he spread his arms and gestured for you to come to him. He wrapped you in his embrace, rubbing your back. You leaned on him, kneeling in between his legs as you hugged him tightly. “There’s no way that she caught it,” Jay said soothingly. “She’s been with her family the entire time. She hardly went off their property.”
“I’m just so worried. I’ve never lived through anything like this before,” you said falteringly, pulling away so you could look at his face. Jay knew you were looking at him to check for chinks in his armor, a sign of doubt. He pulled his features into a convincing mask of resoluteness and confidence. 
“It’ll all be okay,” he said, running his thumb along your cheek. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to commute to school for two weeks.”
You chuckled, looking down as you smiled. “You’re right, Jay.” Jay liked that you didn’t try to call him Dad or Daddy. When he had first met you after a few months of dating your mom, he had been pleased to find that you weren’t the archetypal bratty stepdaughter. Instead, you were sweet and intelligent, and you hardly asked him for a thing. Jay stroked your hair comfortingly and kissed your forehead. 
“You wanna watch a movie together? Would you like that?” You nodded your assent, and Jay reached around for the remote and went on Netflix. He put something lighthearted on for you, and shortly after the movie started you rested your head on his chest. Belatedly, Jay realized that it might be somewhat inappropriate to hold you like this, with you curled up in his arms, kneeling between his legs. But you were so worried, and you needed a guiding figure there, so what else could he do?
Jay continued to rub your back as you watched the movie together. At some point, though, Jay’s attention permanently moved from the film onto you, and he studied your features closely. His wife was a very pretty woman, and started to realize that her daughter was a very pretty girl. 
Maybe this lockdown wouldn't be so bad, if he could get closer to you.
The next day, Jay took stock of everything in the kitchen. Thankfully, they tended to bulk-buy, so he didn’t think that they would have to go shopping for two weeks. Yesterday, you hadn’t eaten dinner, blaming your nerves for curbing your appetite. He decided to surprise you with a pancake breakfast. He smiled as he imagined you eating pancakes. You’d look so adorable with full cheeks…
As he started to gather the ingredients, he heard footsteps padding on the tiled floor. 
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Jay turned to face you, and his breath caught. You were rubbing your eyes, looking around the kitchen, and you were so cute. Jay swallowed thickly and returned his attention to the array of supplies in front of him. 
“Just making breakfast,” he mumbled. “Pancakes.” 
“Can I help?” He heard you come closer, and he could smell your body wash. It was fruity and playful; something from Victoria’s Secret or Lush, a store like that. It went so well with your natural fragrance, Jay had to resist the urge to sniff the air.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jay replied, kneeling down to find where the pans were stashed. It was his house, but his wife had reorganized the kitchen to her liking, so he had trouble finding things. 
“I want to help,” you said, and Jay looked up at you. A mistake. How could he refuse those earnest eyes of yours?
“Yeah, sure,” he said, hoping he came off as nonchalant. He gave you some instructions, well-aware that his voice was somewhat strained. Jay watched you bustle around the kitchen, shamelessly checking you out. Guilt nipped at him, but he reasoned that it was just looking. There was nothing wrong with looking. And when you wore little shorts like that, you were asking to be looked at, really. 
Jay snapped himself out of it and returned his attention to cooking. He flipped the pancakes without using a spatula, and you clapped. “I wish I could do that,” you said. 
“Here, I’ll show you.” Jay wrapped your hand around the end of the pan and covered it with his own. “You have to utilize a certain flick of the wrist, but put pressure on your index finger, your middle finger, and your thumb…” When you successfully flipped a pancake with his help, you giggled, and he felt warm. Like a proud father, he thought. Just like a proud father.
As you two ate breakfast together, he could see your happiness returning. You must have been so worried about your mother, and he was glad to see you shoveling pancakes in your mouth and laughing about some video your friend had sent you. 
“You’ve got syrup all over your mouth,” Jay said, smiling. Before you could wipe it yourself, Jay wet his thumb and wiped it off, relishing in the opportunity to touch your lips. “I bet you were such a messy kid,” he murmured.
“I was,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. “My mom was always running after me with Wet Wipes.” 
Jay chuckled at the thought, retracting his thumb. “I’m sure she didn’t mind. You were probably a cute kid, too.”
You groaned. “I was so cute. I have no clue what happened.”
You got pretty, Jay thought. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips, and Jay realized that he had carelessly complimented you. 
Jay cleared his throat. “Of course you are,” he said, desperately trying to center himself. “You look just like your mother.”
You nodded, still looking pleased with the compliment, and Jay could feel his heart racing out of his shirt. You were going to be the death of him.
The next day, after dinner, (another collaboration between the two of you), you had announced that you would do the laundry. Jay shook his head and handed his plate to you. “You do the dishes,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ll take care of the laundry.”
You begrudgingly took the plate and stacked it on top of yours. “I hate doing the dishes.”
Jay laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked past you. “Doing things you hate builds character,” he called behind his shoulder. 
As soon as he got upstairs, he made a mad dash to your bedroom to retrieve your laundry basket. He didn’t have a lot of time. Jay opened your door and bent down to examine the white hamper. Pawing through your clothes, he shakingly retrieved a pair of your panties. It was painfully conservative. Weren’t girls your age supposed to be wanton little sluts? He held it up, examining it closely. Common sense told him to put it back, morality told him to put it in the hamper, and his own conscience was screaming at him to just drop the fucking panties. But something stronger compelled him to hold the panties to his nose and sniff them deeply. Your scent was intoxicating, and he sighed. Jay took a few more deep sniffs before he dropped the panties back into the hamper and walked down to the laundry room. 
It was lockdown, he concluded as he set the basket down. Lockdown was driving him crazy, turning him into a libidinous beast. Never mind that it had only been three days - three days was enough. Three days of being forced to watch as your stepdaughter pranced around in shorts that just barely hid her tight little ass, of having to smell her, of knowing that there was pussy that he couldn’t get to…that would drive a monk to drink. As long as he didn’t act on it, Jay reasoned, he’d be fine. 
-
Over the next week, you and Jay had fallen into a routine. You ate breakfast together, then you dispersed to your separate rooms- you had to do online school, and Jay had to navigate running a business over Zoom. You would eat lunch together, discussing the virus, your problems, or just comfortably sitting in silence. 
Then you squirrel away back to your room. When that happened, Jay would generally do two things in an interchangeable order. He would either retire to his office and read a business management book or go over his emails, or he would rub his dick raw in his ensuite bathroom to the thought of stepdaughter pussy. Pornography wasn’t necessary; he could just close his eyes and imagine you in those stupid shorts, imagine you taking them off and crawling towards him, imagine his hands groping your forbidden body.
 After that, he would cook dinner for the two of you, and you would watch a movie together. You liked to rest your head on his shoulder, saying that that’s how you and your mother would watch movies. So Jay would wrap his arm around you, his other hand clenching the armrest of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to fight off his basest urges. After that, you would go to your room, and Jay would go to his room and edge himself for half an hour. 
Then, he would text your mother and tell her that he loved her.
A week after the lockdown had been announced, Jay checked his appearance in the mirror in the living room and frowned. He had a meeting in an hour, but he noticed that he was developing a unibrow. Normally, his wife would help him pluck the hairs.
You walked downstairs and noticed Jay scowling at himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked, standing next to him. By now, just your scent went straight to his cock, making it stir, and Jay sighed.
“Your mom’s not around, so now I’m turning into a caveman,” he said, pointing at his eyebrows. 
Your face brightened. “I can pluck them for you!”
Jay’s face fell, but he quickly put on a mask of indifference. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he said, waving his hand.
You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jay? It’ll be so fun. It’ll be therapeutic. Please?”
You were the devil, he decided, the devil cloaked in the vestments of a college student. “Fine,” he relented, and you cheered.
Jay wearily stood next to the mirror as you sprinted up the stairs to get your tweezers. You bounced back down shortly, opening and closing the tweezers with the steeliness of a surgeon. 
“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Jay obeyed, sitting down on the far end of the couch. You straddled his waist.
“What are you doing?” Jay asked, his voice somewhat panicked.
“I have to get close to you,” you replied. Jay realized that his reaction was unwarranted and he was doing a shit job of acting like he didn’t want to fuck you, so he nodded. 
As you plucked his eyebrow hairs, Jay rested his hand on her waist to stabilize you. He stared at you as you worked; you were so lovely when you focused. Jay decided not to fight it, just for now. He languidly rubbed a circle around your waist as you plucked his eyebrows, and his other hand rested on your knee. If Jay tried, he could almost forget who you were. He could just pretend like there was no relation, that you were a stranger, that it wasn’t wrong to feel like this.
“Done!” You put the tweezers on the side table and examined his brows by tilting his head this way and that. Jay continued looking at you. He leaned back so that he was resting fully on the armrest, and your chest pressed against his due to the slight shift in position.
Jay’s voice was low and rough. “How does it look?” His hand still caressed your waist over your hoodie, and he noted that you made no move to get up.
“Very nice,” you replied, both hands still on his face. “You look very handsome now.”
Jay smiled slightly, looking you up and down. “Yeah?”
You looked in his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
Jay wasn’t sure who had leaned in first, but he did know that he was the one who deepened the kiss. You tasted incredible, and you weren’t a bad kisser, either. Your lips were soft and you took your time; your hands still cupped his cheeks. Jay’s hand slipped from your waist and worked its way up your hoodie, resting on your stomach. His other hand crawled up your leg, and he was endlessly grateful that you wore those dolphin shorts all the time. 
You were the one who probed your tongue at the entrance of his mouth, and you were the one who ran it along his teeth. He stroked his tongue along yours, tilting his head even further. Your hands slipped from his cheeks to rest on his shoulders.
Strangely enough, as he made out with his stepdaughter, Jay felt no qualms. All he could focus on was how good it felt, on how warm your little mouth was, on the way your body tensed as he ran his hands over you. Jay brought his hand higher, from your stomach to your ribs, until it was resting just below your breasts. He waited for you to pull away, to tell him to stop, but when you didn’t, he continued. Jay’s hand cupped your breast, and he briefly broke the kiss.
“You didn’t wear a bra?” he asked in an accusatory tone, kneading your breast. 
You shook your head.
“You wicked little minx.”
You shrugged, placing your hands behind his neck. “I normally don’t wear bras around the house. I mean, it’s just you and me in here.”
“No,” Jay whispered. “It’s not ‘just’ me.” Jay leaned in to kiss you with renewed fervor. His other hand slipped up into your shorts, fondling your upper thigh. Gently, Jay began to push you down onto the couch, until he was resting his full body weight on top of you. His hand groped at your chest, and he used both of his hands to pull your hoodie off. Finally, finally, he would get to see your body without a massive piece of fabric hiding it.
Jay moaned as soon as he saw your naked torso. He momentarily stopped kissing you to suck your tits. Both of his hands ran up and down your thighs, and he relished in your little gasps and whimpers. Jay took his mouth off of your breast and looked up at you. “You like that?”
You nodded, your face contorted in pleasure. “I like it, Jay.”
You had all but given him the green light to do whatever he wanted to your body, and almost without his knowing he began grinding his hips against yours. After leaving sloppy kisses all over your breasts, Jay kissed you again, sucking your tongue over and over again. 
He continued to rut against your clothed pussy, the friction assuaging the painful stiffness he felt in his cock. Jay knew he was pathetic. He knew how degenerate, how desperate, how sick he was. Only a freak would dry hump their stepdaughter on the couch. He didn’t even last an entire week. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care, let alone to stop. Jay ground his crotch into yours, pressing you deeper into the couch, and he groaned in your mouth. 
His hands were all over you now, stroking your back, your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and he was dimly aware of your own hands snaking up his shirt. 
Jay broke the kiss again, sweat dripping down his nose. “You can’t tell anyone,” Jay said frantically as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Got that? Not your friends, not your classmates, not your mom. Do you understand me?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you understand me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you said hoarsely, your lips already swollen. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Jay tossed his belt to the side and tugged his jeans down. “Our little secret, right?”
You shimmied out of your shorts. “Our little secret.”
Jay slid your panties down your legs and parted your legs, pushing one up the couch and leaving the other to hang off of the side. He glanced at you as he worked his cock a few times. “Are you a virgin?”
You shook your head. 
“Good.”
“Why?”
“I’d never fuck a virgin the way I’m about to fuck you,” Jay said. Your eyes widened in apprehension, and Jay smiled.
He pushed himself inside of you roughly. As soon as he felt your pussy tighten around his cock, its warmth enveloping him, he swore. “Oh, fuck.” Jay kept your legs pushed open as he inches himself into you. At first, he shallowly thrusts into you with about half of his length. You’re already shuddering like a whore, whining and shaking, but you aren’t wet enough for his liking. Jay reached his hand down and stroked at the area above your vagina lips, eventually finding your clitoris. He rubbed it, just enough to get you nice and sopping wet. It didn’t take long, either; you must have been as pent-up as he had been, judging by the way you were gasping. Even just a few inches had you stuttering out some words that would make your mother blush.
He pulled out of you slightly, swirling his hips, before slamming his cock into you again. You moaned, a sound so gorgeous that he had to continue. Jay pounded your pussy mercilessly, his hands keeping your legs split open. His balls slapped against your thighs almost painfully as he kept up his pace. 
“Should have done this at the start,” Jay huffed. “Should have been inside you the second lockdown started.”
You opened your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”
Good question. Why hadn’t he just fucked you like this when you had come running to him for comfort? Why had he bothered waiting? For propriety? For politeness? None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock. 
Jay smiled slightly as he imagined how your mother would react to this: her daughter splayed out on the couch, her tits bouncing up and down, her hand covering her mouth so her moans won’t echo all over the house, and her stepfather in between her legs, fucking her ruthlessly. The scary thing was, Jay didn’t think he could stop even if your mother had walked in. Your pussy felt too good, too tight, too warm, too inviting. 
You were so wet that Jay could hear it, his cock making obscene noises as it ravaged your hole. Jay pulled out of you, breathing heavily. He dragged you from the couch and laid you flat on the rug. 
“On all fours,” he said raggedly. “Now.”
You were weak, but you obeyed his instructions, displaying your red, aggravated pussy for him. Jay mounted you and fucked you like a dog, chasing his orgasm. His hands groped around your chest and he grabbed your tits while he pounded you. He leaned his head back and let out a primal moan.
Soon, your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the floor. Jay didn’t pull out of you, couldn’t pull out of you. He braced his arms on either side of you and slammed into you, pressing his entire body weight onto you. 
He felt his orgasm approaching, and he sped up, grunting and groaning. Jay felt like he would die if he didn’t cum, and he fucked into you mindlessly. When his orgasm hit, he let out a strangled scream. He could feel the pleasure from his cock all the way to his fingertips; his hairline tingled as he emptied himself out in your pussy. 
Jay didn’t know what he would do next. He didn’t know how you would act around each other. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had to do this again and again with you.
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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starve and die | c. sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader | Matt and Nick Sturniolo x reader (platonic)
Summary: When Nick and Matt test positive for covid and Chris has to go into lockdown to prevent catching the virus, who will look after them?
Warning: Covid-19, sickness.
Author's note: I've just watched the triplets new video and had this idea!!
PS.: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sighed as she turned off her car, preparing herself for the long days ahead, not that it was a burden for her to take care of her boyfriend and best friends, almost brothers.
Matt and Nick tested positive for Covid-19 two days ago, and the first thing Chris did upon receiving their test results was send a quick text to Y/N saying that they both had the virus and that he and his brothers would have to be in lockdown for at least five days.
He sent many texts asking her to not worry, as his brothers' symptoms weren't much more than the flu, and that he was fine and would stay in his room so he wouldn't run the risk of catching the virus too, but who said she listened?
Y/N knew that Chris wouldn't have the patience to make healthy food at least three times a day for him and his brothers, and she knew how afraid he was of getting sick too. Y/N didn't have that worry, being a medical student and a resident at LA's main private hospital, she knew very well how to deal with all of this and wouldn't spare any energy when taking care of her family.
The girl was grateful that her boss had empathy and gave her a few days off work.
With that, Y/N prepared herself the day before, going to the nearest pharmacy to buy some boxes of covid tests and a new box of disposable masks, since the one she had at home was running low, and then went to Target, buying several healthy snacks, fruits, vegetables and chicken to make several soups and light food dishes, not intending to make anything heavy or fatty with fear of making the boys' situation worse.
Today, before leaving the house, Y/N prepared a backpack with a few extra changes of clothes, without overfilling it due to having more than enough of it at the triplets' house. Furthermore, she took a purse and put everything she would need: masks, tests, food and some medicines that are allowed during covid to alleviate some symptoms.
Before getting out of the driver's seat, Y/N grabbed the mask she had ready next to her, putting it on her face and finally getting out of the car. Y/N closed the door and opened the back seat, grabbing her backpack and purse, quickly locking the car and walking to the front door. The girl searched the pocket of her Fresh Love sweatpants, soon finding the spare key to her boyfriend's house.
After unlocking the door, she opened it carefully, not wanting to make too much noise, already knowing that one of the boys had a headache, if not all of them.
The girl walked to the kitchen and placed her things on the counter, before going back to the door to close and lock it.
Before Y/N started her first task, she walked to Chris's room, seeing the door closed. She knocked twice lightly, opening it slowly and seeing Chris under the covers staring at the ceiling, in the dark, with only the light from his TV illuminating the space, the girl held back a laugh knowing that her boyfriend was probably losing his mind for staying locked in his room alone for days.
Chris quickly raised his head with the sound, taking a few seconds to realize that Y/N was there, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Babe, what are you doing here?" He asked, getting up quickly and walking towards her, asking with his eyes if he could get closer and the girl rolled her eyes, nodding.
"I came to take care of you three idiots." She mumbled against the mask, closing her eyes momentarily as she felt Chris's arms around her, never wanting to let go.
"I told you not to worry, I had everything under control." Chris murmured, pulling away to look her in the eyes.
"Of course, so much so that you were lying there staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world." She let out a laugh when she heard Chris snort. "I'm sure you must be starving, when was the last time you ate some real food?" Y/N questioned, seeing Chris shrug.
"You talk as if I didn't show up at the hospital almost everyday with lunch for you." Chris snapped like a child, crossing his arms.
"Lunch that Nick made." She argued, laughing loudly when Chris huffed, frowning. "I'm kidding, baby, I love it when you show up at the hospital with lunch for me." Y/N said, approaching and planting a kiss on Chris's shoulder behind the mask.
"By the way, weren't you on duty today?" Chris asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he took his phone out of his hoodie pocket and double-clicked the screen, checking the date.
"I did, but I asked my boss for a few days off so I could take care of you and she gave it to me." Y/N said smiling big, and Chris couldn't help but smile back as he saw his girlfriend's eyes shrink from her happy expression, without being able to see her smile directly.
"Well, since you're already here, I think I'm a little hungry." Chris joked, running his hand over his belly and giving her a mischievous smile.
"Alright little kid, I'm going to cook you something and you're going to stay here in your room and look pretty." The girl said, pushing Chris lightly, blowing a kiss and closing the door behind her.
Y/N walked to the kitchen again, not containing her goofy smile.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Y/N lifted the lid of the pan, taking the wooden spoon and quickly tasting the chicken soup (here in Brazil we call it canja, and it works miracles when you're sick, and it's delicious), letting out a sound of pleasure for the flavor. She turned off the heat, taking three plates from the cupboard and the spoon, distributing the soup on each of the plates, sprinkling some leek on top before taking three spoons and placing them inside the plates.
The girl took three glasses and added fresh orange juice, which she made minutes before, and took two pills of the only headache medicine allowed during the virus.
Y/N opened one of the cabinets and took three trays, placing them side by side on the counter and arranging on top of each one the plate of soup, the glass of juice and the medicine pill.
She quickly grabbed the first tray and walked carefully to Matt's bedroom door, bending down and placing the tray on the floor before knocking on the door three times.
"Matt?"
"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Y/N heard Matt's voice, feeling in his voice the pain the boy was feeling.
"I came to take care of you three, I made some soup and juice, they're in here." She replied, hearing the boy move around inside the room before walking away and returning to the kitchen, hearing the sound of the door opening and closing a few minutes later.
Y/N took the second tray and walked to Nick's room, hearing his voice behind the door, assuming he was on a call with someone or recording a video. The girl bent down and placed the tray on the floor again, knocking firmly on the door to make sure Nick heard.
"What are you doing outside your room, Chris?" Nick shouted from inside the room, making the girl laugh. "Y/N?!" He asked in surprise before quickly opening the door and Y/N applauded herself for wearing the mask. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?" Nick asked, holding the camera in one of his hands, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"I took a few days off to take care of you three. And I made real food!" Y/N repeated the same sentence for the thousandth time, pointing to the tray, smiling when she saw the taller's eyes light up.
The boy bent down, picking up the tray with one of his hands and straightening up, raising the camera again and smiling wide at the lens.
"Guys, Y/N brought food for us, the hungry ones. Everyone say "thank you Y/N"." Nick spoke into the lens, smiling widely at the girl before closing the door after seeing her turn to go back to the kitchen.
Finally, the girl took the last tray and walked to the last room, her boyfriend's, where she would stay for the rest of the days, knowing that the boy was free of the virus.
"Honey? Open here for me, please." Y/N asked from behind the door, entering the room after Chris quickly opened it with a smile on his face, staring at the soup on the tray.
The girl let out a laugh, placing the tray on the boy's computer desk and sitting on his bed, pointing at the food.
"Bon appétit, my love."
"What would I do without you?" Chris asked, approaching the computer desk and sitting in the chair.
"Starve and die." She replied, laughing loudly behind her mask as she saw Chris shove a spoonful of soup into his mouth as he nodded quickly, without actually hearing her.
767 notes · View notes
arkhammaid · 1 month
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ DEFINITIONS OF MUSIC.
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fandom. formula one
pairing. charles leclerc x professional pianist fem!reader (fc: none)
about. y/n y/l/n is one of the celebreties who has gone viral during lockdown. when she publishes her first album, she raises a few eyebrows with a featured artist
content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread
notes. this is a very self-indulgent fic... so you all better love it or else 🫵
YOURUSERNAME AND 3 OTHERS
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liked by zendaya, hanszimmer and 14'083'874 others
yourusername and 3 others we're proud to announce the album DEFINITIONS. each of the 26 original composed pieces embrace the title itself, the feeling of these words. they're defined by our language and passion, a gift from us to you.
yourusername so happy our baby is finally out, thank you adrian, charles and jamie, for this partnership. i couldn't have done this without you!
hanszimmer This is music.
charles_leclerc And it's finally here! I had so much fun working on this, thank you @/yourusername for allowing me to be part of your project🥰
jamieduffyy absolutely incredible!! stream definitions now!!!
zendaya I'm sobbing over the whole alphabeth, who would've thought... this is 🤯🤯
user holyyyyy shittttttt
user 26 SONGS??? AND MOST OF THEM ARE OVER 4 MINS LONG WE'RE GETTING SPOILED FR
haileybieber listening this on repeat and still getting shivers, this is incredible work 💗
user the butterfly effect is so real here...
⤷ user if you told me i'd follow this one tiktoker because she went viral with her piano only to become a fan of men who drive in fancy circles...
⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO'S NOW AN F1 FAN??
user sobbing over nepenthe on repeat
user CHARLES WITH LEMAN?? HELLO??? AND THEN ALSO PHILOCALY??? MY MAN STAND UP AND STOP WRITING LOVE LETTERS
⤷ user what.
⤷ user for the love of god, please look up what the words mean... charles really thought he was slick with this one
⤷ user oh my god.
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Y/N Y/L/N SHOCKS MUSIC WORLD WITH CLASSICAL ALBUM AND FEATURED ARTISTS! FIVE PIECES OF THE 26-PIECE ALBUM ARE IN THE INTERNATIONAL CHARTS. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT 'DEFINITIONS'.
From Viral TikToker to Record Holder, Y/n brings Classical Music back in Trend.
By Sara Ristan | Published February 24, 2024
If you know anything about music, you know the current trends. Pop and Rap is what the current generation likes, with a few outliners. From the very beginning, Y/n seemed to be one of them as well. Her first release, 'A Sailor's Wish', has been trending along with 'Solas', by her fellow artist Jamie Duffy for many weeks.
Her other composed pieces never hit the same numbers, that was until she released a full album. 'Definitions' has 26 original composed pieces, mixed with piano and full orchestra. It's an album full of masterpieces, fully deserving the high praise it has been receiving the past few days.
Every piece in the Album is named after a rare word, each one of them beginning with a letter of the Alphabet. Most of them were composed by Y/n herself, her signature moves regognizable, if you're familiar with her music. If you wish to read a full analysis of the whole album, click here.
Notable, besides the mindblowing compositions, are also the featured artists. We have Adrian Berenguer, Charles Leclerc and Jamie Duffy- each of them well known in their niche. What has raised eyebrows however, is that unlike Adrian and Jamie, Charles himself. He's an athlete, a Formula One driver in fact and very well known. While his fans knew about his releases, singles and even an album with Sofiane Pamart, no one was prepared for the partnership with Y/n.
Especially the titles of the pieces, two of them speaking about love, one is even titled as 'Leman', which means lover. Are these two trying to give us hints?
Beside that, five of the 26 pieces are currently in the charts, having already gathered millions of streams within days. Absolutely mindblowing!
click to read more
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CHARLES_LECLERC
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liked by yourusername, zendaya and 3'099'738 others
charles_leclerc P1 in Driver Championship Standings, P1 in International Charts, P1 in your heart... I love you, mon amour
yourusername ugh, ugly sobbing crying rn, no one talk to me
yourusername i love you too you sap
⤷ charles_leclerc Guilty hehe
⤷ charles_leclerc Doesn't stop me from loving you, cherié
⤷ yourusername i never told you to stop
jamieduffy fucking finally
zendaya @/tomholland2013 why don't you write you love songs for me??
⤷ tomholland2013 you're the one who sings?
user WE WON!!! Y/N NATION WE FUCKING WON
user if you squint you can see me fucking dead BECAUSE WTF IS THIS THEYRE ACTUALLY TOGETHER I CAN NOT IM DEAD OH MYGOOODDDDDD
⤷ user lmao felt
user now we know how charles even agreed to y/n asking for a collab... he has always been down bad for her
⤷ yourusername you're so right
⤷ user OH MY GOD???
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taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lpap , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
612 notes · View notes
munsonluhvr · 2 months
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SWEETHEART SOIRÉE (DAY #2: LOVE LETTERS EVENT)
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content: Eddie Munson x virgin!innocent!reader explicit, 18+ content! Your parents are strict, not willing to let you go out and participate in the shenanigans that happen on Valentine's Day; Eddie helps you sneak out so you can go out with him. word count - 4.1k
notes: this was so extremely fun to write. I got so engrossed in writing this that by the end I felt like I just snuck out to spend a night with Eddie #Iwish.
love letter event masterlist
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The loud hum of conversation in Hawkins High cafeteria numbs your ears, the sound becoming unbearable. It’s Valentine’s day and all-around you people make plans for later tonight. Even at the table you sit at, your friends bounce back and forth to each other, making plans of their own. 
“I’m sorry your parents won’t let you out,” your friend Nancy Wheeler says to you with a frown. “Parents can be such a bummer.” 
You offer a smile, trying to play nonchalant. There’s nothing more pathetic then showcasing how truly bummed you are. Your parents are conservative, expecting you to behave like a lady all day, every day. Valentine’s day was a holiday your parents deemed too risky, the love circulating in the air making the perfect disease for you to catch and act promiscuous. They expected you home after school, in your room for the rest of the evening. For any of the previous years that would have been fine, you had never had a ‘valentine,’ but this year was different – Eddie Munson had made it clear he was your Valentine. However, he wasn’t aware of the lockdown your parents will have on you later in the evening. 
You and Eddie have been dating for only a few months, still in the early stages of being in a relationship. You were crazy about each other, spending any free time you had with each other. Normally he’d be sitting with you during lunch, or you with him and his Hellfire friends, but you glanced back at his normal table, his chair at the end of the table left empty.
Just then, a hand clasps around the back your back, leaning you back. Your skin sparks under the touch, your eyes flickering to see Eddie’s eyes gazing at you. Your stomach twists, your body becoming a puddle under his gaze. Eddie leans over, placing a kiss on your mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” Eddie says, disconnecting his mouth from yours. He crouches down next to your chair, holding onto the back of it for balance. You’re still reeling from his kiss, the form of affection never growing old; every time it gives you butterflies, your skin igniting with goosebumps. “I wanted to ask what you wanted to do tonight?” 
“She can’t go out. Her parents have her on lockdown.” Nancy tosses at Eddie, noticing your loss of words. Eddie frowns glancing from you to Nancy and then back to you. “Is that true?” 
You nod, glancing at your hands that rest on your lap. “My parents think Valentine’s is a promiscuous holiday, that I’ll get pregnant or something if I go out.” 
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Parents,” Eddie says. “Such assholes for no reason. That’s all right, don’t worry about it. Maybe we could do something next weekend then?”
You nod. “Definitely.”
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Depressed is not a strong enough word to describe how you feel, sitting in your room on the evening of Valentine’s Day, all alone. Throughout the rest of the day at school, you were surrounded by the constant sounds of people making plans with their friends or significant others. You had heard about a couple of parties at various people’s houses, though you let it pass through your mind, knowing there was no possible chance you would be able to go. 
You’re bent over your desk, scribbling notes for your upcoming biology test. You sigh, the feeling of disappointment riddling your body. Though you’ve accepted your parents stance on going out on Valentine’s, still, your mind circulates around what everyone else is doing as you’re locked in your bedroom. 
Your door opens, your mother leaning into your room. “What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes landing on you at your desk. “Homework, I’m not allowed to do much else.” You reply with a huff. You glance at your mother who’s in her pajamas, a robe cloaking her body. She shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’ll thank us later when you’re in college and not held back by a child.” 
You shake your head, turning back to your homework that is laid out in front of you. Your mother is impossible. You ignore her while she stands in your bedroom doorway, her eyes sweeping across your room. “Your father and I are going to bed, don’t even think about sneaking out.” She says, placing her hand on the doorknob. She begins to back into the hallway that leads to your room but leans back in before the door completely closes. “And pick up your clothes, this isn’t a pig pen.” Your bedroom door snaps shut. 
You roll your eyes, resting your elbow on the desktop, your hand cradling your head. You shrug the exchange off, not letting your mother’s attitude ruin your night further. You consume yourself with schoolwork until you hear a light knock on your bedroom, jolting you out of your mind. You turn in your chair, squinting to see what made the noise outside. Though it’s pitch dark outside, the sun setting hours ago, you see a figure outside your window. 
You get up from your spot, and as you get closer you notice that it’s only Eddie. Lifting from the bottom of the window, you push your window up, allowing the cold February air flow into your room. “Eddie? What are you doing?” 
Eddie sits atop your roof, holding onto the windowsill to maintain his balance on the roofs sloped structure. His cheeks are flushed pink, the cold numbing his body. “I’m sneaking you out, I was about to knock but your mom rolled into your room, so I waited until she left. You deserve to go out, you always go from school to home to back to school.” 
You lean outside, the smell of fresh air filling your nose, softening your tone to a light whisper in case either of your parents were near. “And you know what she told me when she came in? To not even think about sneaking out.” 
Eddie snorts. “They won’t even know that you went out, I’ll have you back in a little while. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 
Your eyes shift, the fear of your parents opening your door to check if you’re still in there scares you beyond belief. Your parents instilled their beliefs into you without your consent, ensuring that you were the perfect child. You never allowed yourself to cut loose, trying to meet their standards. You debated whether you believed life would allow you to have a little fun with no consequences. “I don’t know, Eddie… my parents really don’t want me going out tonight.” 
Eddie coos, leaning forward to let his fingers brush your cheek. His digits are cold, displaying he’d been outside for a little too long. “You’re such good girl, such a rule follower. Sometimes I feel like I’m corrupting you and feel guilty.” 
You frown. “Don’t feel guilty, I just don’t want to deal with my parents grounding me for months and never letting me see you again.” 
Eddie smiles, his fingers moving away from your cheek and down to your own fingers. His fingertips graze across your knuckles, his fingers beginning to lace into yours. “Trust me, I’ll have you back in just a little bit.” 
You look back into your room, glancing at the door. Your heart beats, nervousness stuck in your throat. You debate, the pros and cons laying themselves out in your mind. You bite your lip, glancing back at Eddie. Since you and Eddie started dating, your dates were limited to directly after school while your parents were still at work or at school sporting events when your parents would allow you to spend time at. Once or twice, you had managed to sneak to Eddie’s house but only for a short while. 
Before you give it too much thought, talking yourself out of it, you fold yourself small enough to crouch through the window. Eddie cheers quietly, his hands pumping in the air, while he wraps an arm around your waist. Together, you and Eddie guide yourself off the roof, and you thank the universe for making your house a short, squatty two-story home. Once you get to the lowest part of the roof, Eddie maneuvers himself down, holding his arms out for you to hold onto while you hop down to the frost covered ground. As you jog from your backyard to the street where Eddie’s large van in parked you say a short prayer, though unlike your parents you don’t have strong feelings for ‘higher power,’ you ask whoever is up there to allow you just one night of fun. 
Eddie’s hand grasps yours, pulling you with excitement. In your slipper covered feet, you make it to Eddie’s van in a short minute. Instantly, Eddie turns the van on, the warm air blowing into the body of the car to warm your chilled body. You cover your mouth, a squeal escaping. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing this!” 
Eddie chuckles. “Welcome to the dark side.” 
You smile, fastening your seatbelt. And off you and Eddie go. 
It’s only around 11 o’clock, car headlights flashing past as you and Eddie coast down the Hawkins streets.  As you blow by downtown Hawkins, groups of girls in dresses, flower bouquets in their hands, their boyfriends trailing behind them; you catch a glimpse of what life is like outside of your home and away from your parents. Storefronts and restaurants have pink, paper cutouts of hearts and cupids, the town square demonstrating an appreciation for love day. 
“Where are we going?” you say, glancing at Eddie. 
“The pond by my house; there’s something I want to show you.” Eddie says, glancing back at you. Eddie’s house is on the other side of Hawkins, and you don’t venture their often; your parents claiming it’s ‘the wrong side of the tracks.’ When you went to Eddie’s house, it was only the first and second time you had really been to that side of Hawkins. You live a very sheltered life. 
Eddie turns right onto a dirt path, his headlights lighting up the dark park that surrounds the car. Bare trees, stick branches sticking out in all directions, crowd around in patches, almost blocking the path in which the car drives on. “You aren’t going to kill me are you?” You ask, the dark park giving eerie feelings. 
Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Now why would I do something like that?” 
You shrug, smiling at the sound of his laugh. Eddie pulls into an unmarked parking spot, the car pointed in the direction of a half-frozen pond. It’s a fairly small pond and you frown at the sight; what did Eddie want to show you here?
Eddie shrugs his jacket off, placing the article of clothing around your shoulders. “What are you doing?” you ask, beginning to slip his jean jacket on. Eddie opens the driver’s side door, letting the cold air rush in. “I told you there’s something I want to show you.” 
“But it’s dark out.” You say with a frown. “What if there are, like, moose out there?”
Eddie frowns, another laugh escaping his lips. “This is Indiana, y/n, I don’t think we have moose here. I’ll keep you safe, come on.” You sigh, opening your door and hoping out of Eddie’s vehicle. 
You follow Eddie, reaching for his hand. You hate the dark, especially in an ambiguous park you’ve never been to before. Eddie follows a path that walks around the length of the small pond, your body staying close to his. After a short walk, Eddie places you in front of him, his hands on your shoulder. He leans close, pointing towards the edge of the pond. “Look,” Eddie says, his cologne radiating off of him. You squint, looking in the direction Eddie points in. When you see what he’s pointing at, you gasp softly. 
At the edge of the pond, almost hidden by the cattails, is a pair of swans, their pure white bodies reflecting the moonlight off them; they almost glow. Their bodies stick out against the dark water, the outlines of the revealed by the bright moonlight. They stay close to each other in the low temperatures, just as you and Eddie stand on the path, their long, thin necks bent around each other. The two swans nuzzle into each other, their black beaks lovingly pecking at each other. 
“I-I’ve never seen swans before,” you say, stepping closer to the edge of the pond to look. Suddenly, you’re no longer afraid of the dark, willing to stand in the dark of the night for hours just to watch the swans love each other.  
“This is where I come to do, uh, business and I noticed them last time I was here. They’re new, they weren’t here before.” Eddie says, watching you become entranced by the large birds. You can’t help but roll your eyes at Eddie mentioning his drug dealing business, but you feel special that Eddie thought to bring you here to see them. 
The pair of swans begin to drift away from the edge, one trailing behind the other, as they glide across the pond. You watch with curiosity, watching as the birds pause directly in front of you and Eddie in the middle of the pond. The front swan turns, angling itself towards the swan that was trailing behind. They stretch their necks, bending until their small heads are pressed against each other, their chests touching, making the outline of a heart with their bodies. “Eddie, look,” you say, your breath getting caught in your throat. 
Eddie pulls your back against his chest, his arm securing itself around your upper body. He leans into you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Come on,” Eddie whispers, placing a second kiss on the edge of your jaw, a third under your ear on your neck. Eddie gently pulls you in the direction of the car, your eyes trained on the birds. As Eddie tugs your away, you watch as the two birds break apart, the heart broken, and they continue to the other side of the pond, one swan in front of the other. It was almost as if the swans did the display just for you and Eddie. 
Back at the car, Eddie opens the two back doors of the van, gesturing for you to get inside. You frown as you climb in, seating yourself in the bare backseat of Eddie’s car. You shrug Eddie’s jacket off, the warm heat still filling the car. As Eddie follows you into the backseat, he closes the van doors behind him. As he turns to you, Eddie crosses his arms across his body, lifting his Hellfire t-shirt up and off his torso. “Eddie, what are you doing? You’re going to catch a cold-“ you say, as Eddie maneuvers his body to hover over where you sit. Eddie pushes your upper body down with one hand, his other hand parting your legs. All at once you knew where this was going. 
You settle against the car floor, your mouth attaching to Eddie’s, your lips moving in harmony with each other. Your cold hands find their way to Eddie’s chest, your fingertips leaving cool trails across his warm skin. While Eddie presses his lips into yours, he uses his free hand to push your pajama pants down, revealing your naked bottom half underneath. Eddie groans against your mouth, feeling your bare cunt brush across his fingertips. 
You gasp, your mouth parting from Eddie’s. You had never been touched in that part of your body, except for your own hands and fingers, and the feeling was so much better then you could have imagined. Your hand fumbles at Eddie’s waist, attempting to unbuckle his belt. After an unsuccessful attempt, Eddie helps, his lips nipping at yours during the processes. Finally, his belt comes free, Eddie working quickly to unzip his jeans and shrug them off. At the same time, you lift your shirt up and off your body, the cold air that seeps into the car attacking your bare breasts. When Eddie looks back up at you after pulling his pants and boxers off, his eyes go wide like saucers looking at your bare chest. This was the first time Eddie has ever seen you naked, few opportunities throughout the few months you and Eddie have been dating allowed for such an activity. 
With eagerness, Eddie places himself over you, your bare hips meeting his. “Do you want to do this?” Eddie asks, his fingers brushing across your cheek bone. “We don’t have to.” 
You nod, cupping the side of his face with your hand. “I want to. It’s just my, uh, first time is all.” 
Eddie nods, his brows knitting together. “Just tell me if you want to stop; you promise you’ll say if you want to stop?” 
You nod, spreading your legs so Eddie can settle himself between you. “Will you walk me through it?” Eddie nods, his tender touches ensuring he’ll protect you the entire time. 
“Are you ready? I’ll push myself in now; it might sting a little bit, but I’ll go slow.” Eddie holds himself in his hand, leaning on his arm. Eddie is surpised to find that your body is already slick with arousal for him, the discovery turning him on beyond belief. 
You lean your head back against the floor, your eyes watching Eddie’s movement. “I’m ready.” You inhale, exhale, and Eddie pushes himself into you with ease. You gasp, your body working to adjust to Eddie’s large size. Your eyes flutter shut, the pleasurable pain coursing through you. “Are you all right?” Eddie asks, his hand cradling your head against his arm that he props himself up on. 
“You can move, I’m okay.” You say, your arms wrapping around his body. Eddie leans over you, placing a kiss on your jaw again. “You’re so beautiful, I feel like I don’t tell you often enough.” Eddie says, his eyes grazing across your face. 
You laugh. “You tell me every day.” 
Eddie shakes his head, his fingertips brushing across the outline of your lips. “That’s not often enough.” You blush, your mind blank. Eddie refocuses, rocking his hips against yours. Underneath him you groan, the pain starting to turn into pleasure. You wrap your legs around Eddie’s waist, feeling a need to be as close as possible to him. Though the car is cold, you and Eddie’s bodies become slick with a light layer of sweat, your core burning at the bottom of your stomach. 
Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling mindlessly as he becomes lost in the intertwining of your bodies. “You feel so good,” Eddie says clearly, his warm breath fanning against your skin. You whine, the feeling of Eddie rocking against you building pressure in your lower half. You aren’t coherent enough to form words, everything coming out in a mumble, as you begin to unravel under Eddie, your mind and body in a complete trance from Eddie’s touch. 
Eddie ducks his head away from your neck, leaving a few kisses in his wake as he trails down to your breasts. Swiftly, he cups one of your breasts into his large, rough hand, placing his mouth around your nipple. Your back arches in response, your hand leaving his back to entangle itself into his hair. You mewl, words beginning to form on your tongue. 
“Oh, Eddie.” You whisper, your fingers closing with locks of his hair in your hand. Unlatching his mouth from your nipple, Eddie trails kisses back up your chest, up the front of your throat. You lean your head back, silently asking Eddie to not stop. 
Every touch Eddie lays on your skin brings you further to the edge, his strokes slowing down and speeding up in the perfect rhythm. You don’t care if your parents know you’ve snuck out of the house, you don’t care if Hawkins police is cruising around  the streets looking for you, you know you’ve met heaven where you lay underneath Eddie, your legs parted just for him. 
The muscles of your cunt clench around Eddie, the pressure bringing Eddie closer with each stroke. Eddie buries his head in your neck again, your fingers still intertwined in his hair. You whine underneath him, mumbling mindlessly, turning Eddie on further and further. Eddie’s head fills with dirty ideas, with ways he wants to fold you, different places he wants to fuck you, but he knows there will be plenty of times in the future to explore his thoughts. 
With a few strokes, Eddie curls against you, a low grunt leaving his mouth as he releases into the depth of your cunt, your body arching as you finish too, the feeling of his body pressed against yours bringing to the brink. 
Eddie pulls himself from you, instantly cradling you in his arms. Placing a kiss on your temple, Eddie nudges into you. “Are you okay? Anything hurt?” 
You shake your head, the warmth of his body against yours feeling nice.  “It felt great.” Is all you can manage to say between breaths. Eddie laughs, his fingertips trailing across your skin. “You’re telling me.” 
The ride back to your house was fast, too fast for your liking, and you stand in your backyard underneath your bedroom window. All the lights in your house were dark, your parents’ bedroom at the front of the house dark, no movement behind their shut curtains. You and Eddie really pulled it off. 
Eddie kneels in the wet grass, making himself a stepping tool. You hold onto his shoulder, using his thigh as a steppingstone to your low roof. With a little upper body strength, you ease your way onto your roof, Eddie standing up from the kneeling position to help guide your legs. After, Eddie maneuvers his way on to the roof with ease. He ushers you up, lifting your cracked window open enough for you to sneak into. You climb into your room as quietly as possible, your eyes looking towards your bedside table, your small analog clock reading “2:50 AM.” 
You turn to the window, Eddie crouching down just as he had when he appeared in your window earlier that night. “See? Just like you never left.” 
You smile. “I had a great time, thank you.” You lean out the window, placing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Go before you catch a cold.” Eddie nods, his eyes lingering on you. 
“Oh, wait.” Eddie whispers, reaching his hand behind his back. “I almost forgot to give you this.” Eddie places a single red rose on your windowsill, a light blush tinting his cheeks. You pick the flower up, lifting it to smell it’s fragrant petals. Your heart swells, the kind gesture making you feel warm. 
“I feel bad, I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s.” 
Eddie shrugs. “You are already the greatest gift.” Eddie leans forward again, catching your lips against his. Then, swiftly, Eddie maneuvers across your roof, waving goodbye as he dodges across your backyard.  
You linger by the window, wondering if you’re in a dream, the night too perfect for words. After a minute, you tuck yourself under your bedsheets, the warmth warning your tingling limbs. As you lay, the rose placed on your bedside table, you hear footsteps coming towards your room. You let your eyes flutter shut, relaxing your body as if you were asleep. 
You hear the doorknob turn, the door cracking open. “See,” you hear your father say, the floor creaking under his weight. The door opens wider, your dad allowing your mother to peer into your room. “She’s still in here, not acting like a hooligan in the dark of the night.” 
You hear your mother hum, the sound of her bracelets clinking as she crosses her arm. “I swear I just heard two voices talking.”
Your father scoffs and you can imagine him shaking his head. You hear their footsteps moving towards the hallway and out of your room. You hear your bedroom door begin to close. “You need to start trusting her more, she’s not the type to be inclined to sneak out in the middle of the night…” you hear your dad say, the rest of his sentence muffled by your closed bedroom door.
You can’t help but smile against your sheets, the memories of Eddie’s mouth planted on yours, his fingertips dragging across your bare skin, the image of the two swans making a heart out of their bodies against the dark of the night. Perhaps it was a good thing you parents didn’t know what you were capable of doing.  
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months
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Austin butler x reader
Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father
A Lot of Changes
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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.
He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’
‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.
‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’
‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.
‘And how did you propose?’
‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.
You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.
‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.
‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.
‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.
‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’
‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’
‘Marry me.’
His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.
‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’
‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’
‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’
‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.
‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.
When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.
‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’
‘What kind of changes are you making?’
‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’
The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.
‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.
‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’
‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’
Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’
You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’
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alocon · 3 months
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Irresistible - Lando Norris
Lando Norris x Fem!reader
written by alocon
Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship
Warnings: 18+, nsfw, a bit of smut - not too much but still some, best friend's sister
[Masterlist] [Part Two Here] [Part Three Here] [Part Four Here]
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Irresistible - LN⁴ x Fem!reader
You and Lando Norris had always had a flirty relationship. It had always been a joke between you because it always really pissed off your brother. "Dude you can't flirt with my sister, that's weird, what the fuck." He would say. So they would do it more.
Lando first realised that he was falling for you when you both were 13. He was at Max's house playing games in his room when you walked into his room, angrily glaring at your brother. "Max, if you don't stop using my shampoo, I will kill you."
You hadn't realised that your brother wasn't in the room until afterwards. He had watched as your eyes trailed over every single feature on his face. You had smiled shyly, stepping into the room and holding out your hand. You told him your name. He told you his. Then your brother came back, and you said a few choice words to him before he kicked you out. And from that moment, Lando Norris was mesmerised
"It will go away," he always said. He tried not to feel for you because you're his best friend's twin sister, so it was wrong, right? However, through the years of trying to get over his feelings for you,all attempts would crash back down.
Through lockdown and 2021, you, Max, and Lando lived together. Max spent most of the time in his room. You spent a lot of the time in the living room, and Lando switched between the two. You were there when he got his first podium, and he went straight to you as Max wasn't there, pulling you into the biggest hug he could. You lost your voice from cheering for him.
In 2021, Max moved out, but you and Lando remained in the same house whilst you continued the apartment hunt in Monaco. You still had a house in England, though. For visiting family. You had always dreamed of living there - it was so beautiful. You and Lando had helped move each other in when you got there. He soon regretted that, though, when he had to put away the many pieces of lingerie that you owned. Maybe he shouldn't have offered to do that because the thoughts about it wouldn't leave his mind. And every time it got back into his brain, the blood decided to go elsewhere... Which, again, made it difficult as he would then have to sort the problem out, sometimes whilst you were also in the house.
He couldn't look at you the same after that. And you knew it. You knew it because there were multiple occasions where you had heard him moaning your name.
For 2 years, you knew that he wanted you in that way. You didn't know that he was equally as in love with you as you were with him, though. You could tell that he was only holding back because Max was your brother. Lando would've been all over you if he wasn't, you knew that. He had some small amount of self restraint remaining but you intended to change that. You started off small, just making more flirty comments, complaining about men being shit after failed dates because you hadn't got laid in a year and it was doing your head in. Then you felt more comfortable wearing your robe out of your room more often in the evenings rather than putting a jumper on to cover your pyjamas.
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Lando's voice could be heard from the kitchen as you walked in to grab yourself a drink. You felt his eyes on you almost immediately as you reached up to the cupboard, grabbing the glasses which were, inconveniently, on the highest shelf. He stuttered slightly as he continued his phone call, watching as you filled up your drink and shot him a wink before leaving.
He was fucked.
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On the day of the party in question, you had awoken to a sudden presence on top of you. You groaned, showing the laughing brit off of you. "Stop jumping onto me to wake me up, what the fuck, Lan."
He didn't answer, pulling you into a dramatic hug. "Happy birthday!" He started placing dramatic kisses on your forehead - a running joke you two had about you being home sick as your mother used to always do that.
"Wow, at least give me a birthday kiss on the lips," you joked, sitting up in bed and running your hand through your hair. He moved to sit beside you.
"Am I that irresistible that the first think you think about when you see me is kissing me?"
"Trust me." You leant closer to his earl, fingers trailing up his chest as you spoke. "You think you're irresistible? Wait until you see my outfit tonight." You got out of bed, heading to get ready for the day.
You hadn't seen him much after that. He had spent most of the day with Max, which you were fine with as you got him most days. The next time you saw him was at the party.
You should've known it would be like this. You both went half and half for the party on the venue but, of course, he had invited all of his friends before telling you the capacity, meaning that you couldn't invite any of your friends. It's how it went. He would do a party for them both but only with his friends and then would tell you not to speak to his friends because you were embarrassing. Great.
So that's how you ended up sat outside of the venue, in the garden, whilst most people were inside, just ignoring everyone. It was your birthday too but he had made this place, which you paid for for a joint party, all about himself.
She had been there for 5 hours and she had only actually talked to Ria, P, Oscar and Logan for a few minutes each. When they each asked why you were sat outside, you had made an excuse about having a slight headache. "Don't worry about me, just calming the headache down," you would say.
Lando was looking for you everywhere. He had been there for a few hours and seen no sign of you or your friends. It was only when his eyes met Oscar's that he finally inquired. "Osc, you haven't seen Max's sister anywhere have you? I still can't find her."
"Oh, yeah. Last I saw her, she was sat outside. Maybe check there?"
So that's where he went. He leant against the doorway after stepping outside. "Don't feel like partying? None of your friends are here."
You kept looking ahead of you, sitting on the bench which he soon joined you on. "Max took up the capacity with all of his friends so I couldn't invite anyone." You shrugged.
Lando's hand fell on top of yours which rested on the bench between you both. "Have you been here for 5 hours without speaking to anyone?"
"I said hi to Oscar, Logan and Ria and spoke to each of them for a few minutes."
He took the opportunity to look at your outfit. You were right - you looked really hot.
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You both fell into silence, just enjoying the view for a little while. Well, that was until a familiar song came on. It was one of your favourite slow songs.
He stood up, hand grabbing onto yours. "Come on," he said, helping you to your feet.
"What are we doing?"
"Dancing."
His hands slid to your waist as yours went straight onto his shoulders. You decided to let him lead, which he did well. You both gently swayed around to the sound of the music, your head placing onto his shoulder as you did. He grabbed your hand, dramatically spinning you, making you chuckle as you took the time to enjoy the party for the first time that night. When the song came to an end, you looked into his eyes, whispering a soft "thank you."
He didn't answer, eyes tracing every part of your face and outfit, almost like he was committing every part of you to memory. Almost as if, after he let go, you would disappear and his only way of remembering you was to think of how you looked this night. You leant towards him, your foreheads pressing against one another as his eyes trailed down to your lips. And then, he connected their lips. 'Finally' she thought.
As your lips finally met after years of longing and love, it felt like a reunion of souls. The warmth of his grip tightening on your waist caused you to feel a wave of familiarity and comfort as it reminded you of the tight hugs that you would get after being apart for even a couple of weeks whilst he raced. You felt him sigh against your lips contently, almost as if all his problems were disappearing. You felt yourself moving backwards until your back pressed to the wall of the venue as his lips continued to press to yours, his tongue licking your bottom lip as you opened your mouth to allow him access. It was an embrace of passion and tenderness, a silent conversation of emotions that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
They only pulled away when they heard someone swear. Pulling away, they saw Alex and Lily looking at them cheekily. "I didn't think there would be others here I just. We won't tell anyone what we saw, we can go elsewhere."
You started laughing softly as you realised that Lily and Alex were there for the exact same reason as the two of you were. This made Lily break out of their awkward phase and start laughing. Lando grabbed your hand, speaking up. "No, you guys stay here, we were just heading home. Right?" Seeing the lustful look in his eyes, you nodded quickly, letting him lead you away as you heard calls from Alex.
"Use protection."
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You felt yourself get pushed back onto Lando's bed as you, once again, melted into his embrace. His lips found your neck, not hesitating to press a bruising kiss into it, making you gasp softly. Lando pulled away to look into your eyes. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do this."
"Me too," you said, feeling his hands run down to the bottom off your dress. His shirt was already long gone. He tugged the dress, moving to stand up.
"I want this off." You don't hesitate to obey him, quickly slipping the black dress off before returning to the bed. By this point, he was also stood to remove his trousers. He then followed suit, turning to look at you. He looked over the lingerie you were wearing, biting his lip as he went back to you, quickly reconnecting your lips again. His hands found their way under your back and to your bra as he unclipped it, quickly throwing it off to the side and beginning to kiss down your body.
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Lando collapsed back onto the bed, catching his breath, head leaning onto your shoulder. You could feel him smile against your skin as he placed a couple of gentle kisses against you before he spoke. "Fuck, if I knew it would be that good, I would've made a move a long time ago."
You chuckled to this, rubbing your hand through his hair as he cuddled up closer to you. "How about we give it a few minutes and then shower and sleep, yes?"
"Only if I get to sleep beside you."
She placed a kiss on his forehead, nodding. "Of course." She paused for a minute before speaking for a second time. "Told you I would be irresistible."
-The End-
[Word Count - 1,963]
Hi All,
Once again - this is my 2nd thing I've written. Please give me feedback x
Short one. I'm not good at writing smut but could give it a proper go if anyone wanted me to. But for now, Hope this was okay!! Might make this a short series of stories but I am unsure yet. Have a good day!! x
Alocon
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queen-of-fanfics · 10 months
Text
Come Back to Me
Stay Away From Him pt. 2
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel has been away on a mission for too long and he comes back different.
A/N: I LOVE YOU GUYS! I am so happy that you guys loved part 1 so much that I knew I had to write some more. 99.99% of everyone asked for fluff, but unfortunately for everyone, I excel in tension and dramatic ass scenes. This scenario literally came to me in my dreams so I had to write it. I'm tagging everyone that left me a message or mentioned they would like a part 2. I hope you guys like it and don't hate me if you don't!
For new readers, welcome! You do not need to read part 1 to understand this part. If you guys hate this part, I will write more and I'll write some fluff to make up for it lol
Part 1
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Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, you roll your shoulders and stretch out your muscles. You were inside Miguel’s chamber at your desk where you work. It was quiet there, only a few people were working about but none were talking above hushed whispers. Looking over the top of your monitor to see who was around, you notice that a few people were already looking at you before their glances shot away when you made eye contact with them. You think it was strange but you have been catching weird glances from people for a few weeks now. 
 Looking over at the empty dais, your heart pangs a little when you are reminded that Miguel isn’t there. It’s been about a month since your incident with Miguel. And every day since then, things have been awkward. Miguel was sending you off to help other people and giving you work that would keep you away for days at a time. He barely said a few words to you and looked at you even less. 
A week after the incident happened, a mission came up and Miguel went to handle it. That was 2 weeks ago. It’s been radio silent since then. Jessica assures you that Miguel is checking in with her and everything is fine. She says that she’s been in contact with him and helping him through his mission, but still, that didn’t reassure you. Miguel always went over every mission with you. You always assisted him through every trip. You were his eyes and ears then all of a sudden he doesn’t even want to tell you he’s leaving or where he was going? 
You were tempted to ask him not to go but you held your tongue. Ever since Miguel left, you had a bad feeling in your gut but you ignored it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s fine! If he wants to get all moody and dramatic then fine. He can check in with Jessica then. Have her run around for him. Huffing out a breath again, you refocus on the task you were working on.
You were pulled out of your focus when you heard in the distance, “Everyone, we are going into a soft lockdown. I repeat, soft lockdown. Gwen and Hobie meet up in Room 5. Keep it quiet. Y/N is still in the dark. Let’s keep it that way.” It sounded like Jessica’s voice coming through someone’s personal intercom. Picking up your own device, you check if you had accidentally turned it off since it didn’t go through yours, but it’s on. This means that Jessica purposefully sent out the message to everyone else, except for you. Y/N is still in the dark?
Pretending to stretch and yawn, you sneak a glance around the room again. The few people that were left in the room were huddled together, a few were walking out of the room urgently. But what made a shiver run up your spine was that everyone was looking at you. Everyone is hiding something from you. That is clear now. You weren’t sure what they were hiding but something in your gut is telling you it was bad. And it’s something to do with Miguel.
Room 5. She said they were meeting in Room 5. Not really sure where that is or what’s in there but it has got to explain why everyone has been acting so strangely. Standing up from your desk, the conversations in the room immediately stop and it’s utterly silent. Trying to act as normal as possible, you slowly walk out of the room. 
After what felt like hours with your heart beating out of your chest, you finally found “Room 5”. Slowly creeping into the room, you can see that it is empty except for a giant cage in the middle of the room. The room is dark and there seems to be only one light directly above the cage. Surrounding the cage were Jessica, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker, and inside the cage … was Miguel. 
Except, it wasn’t Miguel. The Miguel in the cage was feral and animalistic. He was hunched over and crouched down low as if he was ready to attack. His arms are held out low to his side and his claws are extended. Though Miguel is already a naturally large guy, his tensed and flexed muscles seem to be bulging out more, giving him that beast-like appearance. His hair was a completely tangled mess, wild and unkempt. His breathing is frantic and unstable. Though he looks a mess, he is standing utterly still. 
This isn’t Miguel. This isn’t your Miguel. Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong.
Sneaking into the room and sticking to the shadows, no one in the room senses that you’re there. Everyone except for Miguel. As you slip into the room, he turns his head and watches you from over his shoulder but doesn’t make any other movements. Seeing him now, you could see that his lips are pulled back so that his fangs are out and on display. His eyes are wild and bloodshot red, though when he sees you, his eyes focus on you as if you’re prey. He doesn’t move and doesn’t make any sounds at you so you remain hidden from everyone else.
Everyone is oblivious to your presence and their conversation continues. Gwen is arguing with Jessica and it looks as though Peter is trying to keep the peace, though he’s not doing a good job. Hobie is casually leaning against the wall nearby giving off a nonchalant appearance but the look on his face indicates that he is upset.
“You can’t do this, Jessica! It could kill him!”
“What choice do we have? The next time he escapes, who knows what could happen. If the antidote doesn’t kill him then the poison that’s already in him will!”
“We still have time to find another way. Maybe he just needs more time and it’ll wear off.”
“Gwen, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even talk! All he does is growl and attack anyone that gets too close. This is getting out of hand!”
“Why don’t we tell, Y/N? Y/N should know about this. And you know as well as anyone else, he has a soft spot for her. Maybe she can help!”
“He’s been back for two weeks and he hasn’t gotten better. If he was going to get better he would have shown signs of it by now. If Y/N knows and he doesn’t snap out of it, how do you think Y/N would take it?”
“Why don’t you ask me?” You finally had enough and decided to make yourself known. Everyone turns abruptly as you step forward further into the room to be seen under the light. 
“Two weeks?” You whisper as you look each one of them in the eyes and feeling betrayed, “He’s been back for two weeks and no one told me? None of you told me.”
Inside the cage, Miguel turns his body completely to be fully facing you now. The entire time, his eyes never leave you. Finally having the time to look him over completely, what you saw broke your heart. He looked tired but also on high alert to attack. There were dark bags under his eyes and his face seems sunken in. His eyes seem to soften slightly as he looks back at you but his face is still grimacing. While you were too busy watching him, what you didn’t see was all the knowing looks that everyone else was passing to each other. 
“Not only did you keep this from me, but now I learn that you want to kill him?!” Instead of feeling hurt, now your adrenaline is kicking in. You’re feeling angry and upset and … panicked. Your mind feels like it’s on a high and you’re acting without thinking.
“No, Y/N, we aren’t killing him. We managed to create an antidote but it only has a small chance of working … and a big chance of killing him. But it’s the only choice we got!” Jessica tries to reason with you.
“And you would take that chance?” How could they even consider this an option? I have to do something and do it quick.
“We don’t have another choice.” Peter jumps in now, speaking in a calm tone.
“Let’s think about it some more.” Gwen is speaking to Jessica now and their original argument from when you first entered the room resumes. The three go back to arguing with one another and Hobie still stays on the sidelines. Except this time, he’s not watching them. He’s watching you. He’s giving you an intense look as if he was trying to tell you a message. 
Slowly but pointedly, he looks at the door of the cage. Following his line of sight, you look back at the cage. The cage is locked but the key is a fingerprint pad. Which means that anyone who has clearance can open it. And you have clearance. Being Miguel’s assistant, you are allowed clearance to nearly everything he is. Looking back at Hobie, he inclines his head slightly to the cage and gives you one firm nod of confirmation.
Throwing a quick glance at the arguing three to confirm that they are preoccupied, without giving it a second thought, you take off running for the cage. Before anyone could react, you slam your hand down onto the pad. Less than a second later, you are throwing the door to the cage open and slamming it shut behind you. “Are you out of your mind?!” You hear Gwen yell at you and the others are yelling too but you’re not listening.
Now you’re staring face-to-face with a feral Miguel. Miguel has crouched low at your sudden entrance and his claws and fangs are fully on display, though he doesn’t move close to you. He’s standing still and watching you for your move. The world seems to fade away and your sole focus is on him but you could feel the flurry going on outside of the cage. But you don’t look, you keep your attention strictly on his face. 
Half expecting to be mauled to death the instant you got inside the cage, you are happily surprised that Miguel seems more cautious of you at the moment. Testing your luck, you hold out both hands in front of you and take a hesitant step forward. Again to your surprise, Miguel inches back. Testing it again, you take a full step this time, and again he backs away from you.
“Careful, now.” Hobie sounds close. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see that Hobie is walking closer to the cage. Miguel lets out a low growl and your eyes shoot back to him. But looking back at him, his stance is different. He looks like he’s ready to pounce. His expression has also turned more deadly and angry. But rather than looking at you like you expected, he’s staring over your shoulder. He’s watching Hobie.
You can hear Hobie’s steps getting closer and the closer he comes, the more agitated Miguel gets. Miguel is starting to walk closer to you now but his eyes are still fixed on Hobie. Seeing that Miguel is moving towards you, Hobie says. “Y/N, I think it’s time to go. Let’s not push our luck, yeah?” Hobie is speaking in a serious tone, he’s not asking.
Without warning, Hobie shoots out his web onto your back and pulls you back towards the door. Your body is jerked back but you don’t get far because suddenly Miguel is there. He jumps forward and wraps one arm around your body and his other arm shoots to your back and slashes the web off of you. The web breaks easily under his claws and he is pulling you back further into the cage. He stops in the middle of the cage where he abruptly lays you down on the floor. 
Thinking that he’s attacking you, your hands shoot up to your face but when nothing hits you, you peek through your fingers and look up at him. Miguel is crouching on all fours atop of you as you’re laid out completely on your back. His knees are straddling your thighs and his hands are on either side of your head. He is hunched low as if he was protecting your body. His face is looking up, you assume it’s towards Hobie still.
“Hey.” You whisper. He only shoots you a quick look but his head jerks back up again. Finding the courage, you try again, “Hey.” Except this time, you gingerly bring your hand up and let your fingers touch his cheek. He jerks at the touch and turns his head to look down at you. That motion puts his face firmly in your hand and now you’re cupping his face.
“Hey there, big guy.” He’s leaning into your touch and his body falls even lower. Your other hand comes up and it rests on his chest and you could feel his heart beating as if he just ran a marathon. All he does is just stare at you. You were waiting for something to happen. Maybe he’ll snap out of it and become normal again. Maybe he will just snap your neck and be done with it. But no. He doesn’t move. Just looks at you.
“Y/N, can you get out?” Jessica asks from somewhere in the room.
“I’m not going anywhere. He’s fine. Keep working on an antidote that will actually help him. I’ll keep him calm.” No one responds back to you but you can hear footsteps receding and you know that you two are now alone in the room. A few beats go by in the silence before Miguel starts showing signs of relaxing. 
His lower body lowers and is laying on top of you. Miguel falls down to his elbows and it brings his face even closer to yours. He nuzzles the top of your head and you could feel the tip of his nose run through your hair as he travels down your body. Your hand that was resting on his cheek travels down his neck and lands against his chest. Your close your eyes and will yourself to keep a clear head.
The tip of his nose runs down to your cheek and he stills for just one moment when his lips graze yours. “What happened to you? I’m scared. Come back to me.” You whisper against his lips. You suck in a breath when his tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip but he doesn’t respond. One of his hands comes up to cup one side of your neck, keeping you still. His hand tightens ever so slightly there, not hard but putting enough pressure to make your heart skip. 
He continues his exploration of you with the tip of his nose. His nose drags along your jawline which makes you tint your head up in response to give him more access. Taking it as an invitation, Miguel continues and comes up to your ear, and gives you a little nibble there. You notice that your breathing has turned to panting. He continues to play with your ear by tracing with his lips. Goosebumps appear on your skin as your body grows warmer and warmer. Your head feels intoxicated and no thoughts filter into your head, only your senses are alive.
You let out a loud gasp when Miguel suddenly nuzzles into your exposed neck and you could feel him smiling against your skin. His hand around your neck tightens some more and it pulls you closer. He runs his lips softly over your skin, feathering light kisses wherever he pleases. To your surprise, you feel a nick of pain on your neck and you realize that he gave you a bite with his fangs. You feel his tongue come out again and lick up the bit of blood that escapes. A shiver of excitement travels down your body and you have to mentally shake yourself. This feels wrong but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. 
“Come back to me.” You whisper again almost like a prayer this time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s many hours later, well into the night,  and Jessica and Hobie came back to check on you. They’re standing side by side outside of the cage staring at the spectacle that’s in front of them. Jessica with her arms crossed in front of her chest and Hobie with his hands on his hips. “Huh. Ain’t that something?” Hobie asks.
In the middle of the cage are you and Miguel, sleeping soundly. You are curled into his front and he is curled around you like his limbs are vines. An arm is under your head, keeping you off the hard concrete floor, the other arm curled around you and wrapping up your back. His lower body is curled up tight against you. His body acting like a shield. You two fit perfectly together. Your hair was a mess and even from across the room, they could tell that your clothes were all rumpled.
“You think those two ever going figure it out?” Jessica asks.
“We’ll they haven’t so far. They wouldn’t be able to see what’s right in front of them even if a bus hit ‘em.”
She lets out a scoff of amusement, “I know. Remember when Y/N snapped at him and he was mopey for a whole week? God that was hell."
"Yeah? You shoulda seen how this one was sighing around while he was 'away'." Hobie shoots back at her with a chuckle.
"Anywho, I didn’t think the poison would’ve been that strong though. I was hoping to have this done in less than a week.”
“Eh, I might have given him a little more than we planned.” “Of course you did,” she lets out a sigh, “Guess that explains why it took him so long to calm down. It should be wearing off soon right?”
“Yeah, day or so.”
“Good. Let’s see them try to deny their feelings after this.”
tag: @bravest-hobbit @supaprettyg @itspinkdemon @fluffybunnyu @couchpotato2006 @adamsloverboy @aaalllice @namjoonsdimplesssss @onlyhimmi @dabu123 @fog-sama @yaichidragneel @sajova @iovaki @princessos-blog @bruhhvv@idratherbesleepingrn @shadyempathmoneycroissant-blog @starrdust11 @zaynabsblog @asfaltite @kuromidarkmoon @liz96893 @ceoofghosts @miaasmf @cosmicmagicgirl @alicefallsintotherabbithole @yamishibai09 @skylarlyn823 @dreamingofbucky @ngz18 @lemonmoonmochi @rattlethemskulls @iheartspderman @bobatealee @honeydrop-bunny @karrinn30 @winterwillow24 @blut00f @teyyyteyyy @urlovecarla @stealingyourturts @gothamsirenz @tazplum05 @greenteacats @the-smut-plug
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luxaofhesperides · 1 month
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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.
So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.
Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?
(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)
Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 
They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.
Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.
“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.
The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”
“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”
“You know about them?”
“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”
The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”
“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”
The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”
Dash. 
Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 
Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.
It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.
And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.
Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!
And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 
There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.
He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.
So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 
He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 
Too late for that now, though.
“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”
Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 
It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.
“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”
Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”
That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 
He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 
The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.
“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”
Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”
“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”
“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”
“So how did you end up in Gotham?”
“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”
Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”
“What do you think I can do?”
“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”
Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”
“What are you planning?”
“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”
“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”
And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.
In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 
Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 
One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.
They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 
By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 
Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.
The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.
As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 
Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 
The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 
Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.
The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 
Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 
He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?
Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.
Danny.
All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 
“Hello?”
There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”
“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”
“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”
From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.
“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”
Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”
Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”
“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”
“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”
“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.
“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”
“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”
Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”
“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”
“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”
Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”
“That’s me, baby!”
The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.
“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”
The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 
He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.
“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”
He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 
Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.
Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.
Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.
Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 
One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 
Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.
He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.
When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.
His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.
Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 
“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 
Danny hums and doesn’t move.
“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”
“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”
A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 
“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”
“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”
He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”
That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 
This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.
Danny makes everything worth it.
(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)
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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*
*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.
Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:
as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)
while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates
Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)
That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:
***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.
I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***
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Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.
But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?
Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:
C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?
Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*
Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:
A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice
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A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…
Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:
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C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?
He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.
Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.
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A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*
And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:
SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed
(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)
I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?
"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.
In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.
And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.
So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.
If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.
"Then nothing has to change, does it?"
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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months
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Angel's Blood
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Aziraphale x GN!Vampire!Reader + a hint of Crowley
18+ ONLY / Requests are OPEN
Read part two- Demon's Blood
Summary: It's entirely an accident when you discover Angel's blood is an aphrodisiac.
CW: vampire!reader, blood, i guess blood kink if you squint, choking, thigh riding
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Being a Vampire had its draws, that was for absolutely sure. Strength, heightened senses (although this could be a hit and miss, depending on which sense you were talking about), speed, and your personal favourite- elongated life. Being able to watch the world grow and thrive around you, it was something truly special. 
It was also a curse too, but that was less fun to think about, so you generally tended to avoid thoughts about it as much as you could. Now, you weren’t necessarily a ‘vegetarian’ Vampire, per se. But you did your best to only bleed people dry who ‘deserved’ it. Real bottom of the barrell stuff. It was… not particularly tasty.
And what with the lockdowns, and the lack of evil and wrongdoing in the air, you’d found it becoming exceptionally difficult to find yourself more meals. The 1940s had basically been an all-you-can-eat buffet. Oh, sure, that wasn’t a good thing, but you’d not been sated quite the same way ever since. Never enough walking popsicles about these days. 
Oh, now there was an idea. Frozen blood pops. You thought you might give those a try when you got your next few blood bags. But those were still a while away, and you were hungry now. 
Usually it was not a huge deal to wait a while between meals, but given how uptight and wound Humanity was getting, and how much harder it was getting to, well, get away with things, you were spacing things out more than you should have been already, and as you pushed your way through the Bookshop doors, you knew Aziraphale knew what was going on immediately. 
You’d met the Angel and Demon pair several centuries ago during a particularly popular theatre act, and you had hit it off immediately. They’d both known exactly what you were, and did not beat around the bush about it. The fact that they’d not feared you in the slightest helped with that too. You didn’t have to keep your guard up around them, and once you’d told Aziraphale about who, what, when and where you fed on- he was much more inclined to become friendly with you. 
“Az- Zira-” you panted, the bell on the door clanging wildly and loudly as you practically fell through the door frame. “Do I- have any- blood here?” Each couple of words took effort to say, and were punctuated with a heaving breath in. You usually kept a small stash at your usual haunts just in case, but you had a sneaking suspicion based on the look on Aziraphale’s face, that no, you did not have any spare snacks sitting around. 
“Oh, dear- erm, no, I don’t believe so, darling-” the Angel said concernedly. You braced yourself against the door and smacked your dry lips.
Well fuck. 
“Shit,” was all you replied, arm wobbling before your body gave out on you. Before you hit the ground you felt arms around you, pulling you up and against Aziraphale’s body. You could smell his soap on his skin, a mix of white sage and oregano and you clung to him desperately so you wouldn’t fall. 
Aziraphale led you over to his arm chair, settling himself down with you in his lap. He brushed the hair out of your forehead and you shivered, your nerves becoming more panicked by the minute.
“You know you shouldn’t leave it this long between… meals,” he practically tutted as if unsure what the correct word to use was, and you let out a shaky chuckle, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. You weren’t sure if it was the desperate hunger or what, but Aziraphale smelt so fucking good.
“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, nosing at his skin softly. Your arm pulled closer around his torso. “It’s getting- harder. Not so much- supply,” you sighed, the panting easing now you weren’t exerting so much energy with movement. 
It wasn’t as if you’d die if you didn’t feed. It was just that without the blood, there’d be no flow in your system, and with no blood flow your body would just… stop working. Dry up and go stiff like an old doll. You’d be stuck in a coma until more blood was transfused into you. 
How did you know this? Well, let’s just say you did not particularly want to repeat the end of the 14th century. You shuddered at the memory and Aziraphale rubbed your shoulder, cooing at you softly in an effort to comfort you.
“Can I do anything for you?” Aziraphale asked softly, kissing the top of your forehead. You nosed at his neck another moment in throught before it came to you. Aziraphale had a body. One that pumped blood.
“I- I have an idea,” you said quietly, pulling away from his throat to look up at him. Aziraphale’s gaze was soft as he nodded, asking what he could do to help you. That was Aziraphale for you, always ready to give for the next person in need.
“I need to feed,” you say slowly and evenly, measuring the Angel’s reactions. “And I’m too weak to find someone who… I can feed off.” You wait to see if he gets what you’re hinting at, and when his eyes widen in shock, you can’t help but be amused at the comical expression. 
“Oh- oh, my,” he splutters as his brain processes the request. And it is a request. You’d never take advantage or take anything from him without his permission. It wasn’t who you were. Not at all. “Oh, well, I suppose,” he adds, clearing his throat. You didn’t even know if it was safe to drink Angel blood. But you supposed you were about to find out.
“Not too much,” he adds, readjusting to make it easier for you to gain access to his neck. “Takes a while to replenish, you see.” You can hear the blood pumping just a little faster- smell the spike of sage that permeates the air over his skin. You shudder out a breath, looking at him one more time. One more chance to back out of this. 
When he tilts his head just a little further in submission, you stop hesitating, fangs appearing in a flash of a second only to disappear again- sinking into Aziraphale’s flesh. The feel of his skin under your lips is to die for. The Angel gasps, the hint of a yelp lost in the haze of blood finally, finally hitting your tongue. 
You let out a groan of pure satisfaction, sucking a little harder. That sweet liquid tasting of peonies, iron and ink. Everyone tasted a little different. God, did he taste good though. You let out a possessive growl and twisted in Aziraphale’s arms so you were sitting on his lap, straddling one thigh and pulling him by the hair to gain as much access as possible. 
“God, fuck, Zira-” you panted, pulling away to lick your lips clean. Your eyes were blown wide watching a drop of blood swell and trail down towards his collar. You surged forward to lick it clean and let out a whimper. “Fuck, fuck- you taste good.” 
The Angel let out a breathy chuckle, and you managed to tear your gaze away from his willing throat to look into his face. His own eyes were darker than usual, and a pink tint was colouring his cheeks. You leaned in to sniff under the bone of his jaw and grinned a sharks grin. Oh, he was enjoying this.
“Do you like it too, Zira? Like it when I feed on you? Shit, I can feel your blood inside me- Angels Blood. Fuck.” You’d barely realised that you’d started grinding softly on his clothed thigh, jolts of pleasure travelling up your nerves like electric shocks. Nothing had ever tasted or felt this good- not in your couple thousand years of life. 
But why, why was it so good? Was it because his blood was undiluted? Pure blood straight from the Heavens- literally? That had to be it. God, it was almost… euphoric. Fuck it, it was euphoric.
When Aziraphale moved to wrap his warm hands around your hips and have you grind down harder and faster, you moaned, head tilted back in pleasure. The Angel tilted his head to the side and let out a quiet plea. “Take more, p-please,” he whispered. 
And who were you to deny him his hearts desires? 
Your fangs sank back into his skin, and his hips jerked up slightly in your direction. You moaned, sending little vibrations through his neck and shoulder and one hand reached down to palm at him through his slacks. 
“O-oh,” he gasped out, fingers tightening on your hips as you began to move in tighter circles, grinding yourself down on him and panting with the pleasure shooting up your spine. Your muscles were already beginning to ache but you persevered, the pleasure far outweighing the burn. 
Aziraphale whimpered quietly, biting his lip and adjusting his knee to have you seated more comfortably. The movement of his thigh pulled a deep groan from you, and your fingers pressed into his bulge with a little more devilish intent. 
Fuck, you were not going to last long and you knew it, it was almost like you’d been strung on a high wire and the ampage turned up to eleven. Fuck, the only thing that could make this better was if-
“Fucking Hell,” you hear behind you. The shock and the adrenaline that came with being caught sent your hips forward harshly, a noise of pleasure escaping whether you wanted it to or not. The pair of you hadn’t even locked the door. “Angel, I didn’t take you for this kind of behaviour. Seems more like my kind of thing.” 
You feel Aziraphale’s fingers clench tighter on your hips, dragging you forward and back over his thigh. You can barely focus on the conversation over the pleasure.
“It’s- ah- not what it looks like, Crowley-” Aziraphale manages to say. You’re pretty sure you know exactly what this looks like, and you’re not sure how Aziraphale intends to explain this to his Demon friend. Lover. The three of you were a lot of things to each other. It was bound to happen when you spend so many human lifetimes around each other.
“Isn’t it?” Crowley asks, taking a seat down on the chair facing opposite to Zira. You suck a little harder, more of your Angel’s blood laving over your tongue. Your hand massages against him and one of his arms comes up so his hand can caress your spine. 
“Because, and, right- correct me if I’m wrong- but it looks as though you’re letting our dear old friend here fuck your thigh and drink you practically dry,” his gaze must catch on the way you’re rubbing your hand over Aziraphale’s very prominent and thick erection. “Mm, well, and there’s that. Not overly Holy, I would have thought. But don’t stop on my account.” 
You feel Aziraphale’s fingers lift from your spine and suddenly Crowley isn’t on the chair anymore. He’s pressed up against your back and reaching to pull softly on your hair. You pant as your mouth is pulled away from Aziraphale’s neck, and the Angel in question whines in protest. 
Crowley pulls you into a kiss, licking the blood from your lips and giving you a truly devilish grin. He lets go only to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze. 
“Naw, what’s wrong, Pet? Hmm? You want to cum?” The Demon squeezes tight enough to cut off your air and you hump against Aziraphale’s thigh desperately. Crowley has the audacity to laugh, standing above you and holding you steady. 
“Go on, then,” he snarls, pressing tighter still. You whine and rock your hips harder, your hand grinding against Aziraphale at the same time, who is turning his head to press kisses to Crowley’s wrist reverently. “Come for us, Pet. Hungry thing.” 
You cry out as Aziraphale bumps his leg up against you, the final touch to make you fall over that edge. You cum hard, jerking in Crowley’s grip as he loosens his fingers just enough to allow you to breathe in again. He laughs, giving you a light pat on the cheek. Hard enough to feel but not to hurt. 
As soon as he releases your throat, you’re burying yourself in Aziraphale’s neck, seeking warmth and comfort, hips rolling over his thigh to ride out your pleasure. Your hand has reached into his slacks by now, tugging at him erratically and quickly. The Angels head tilts back in pleasure, where you’re sure Crowley is giving him a downright filthy look. 
As soon as your lips press a featherlight kiss to the marks you’ve left on him, he cums. Ribbons of white coating your fingers inside his slacks. You let out a moan of a laugh, tired and sated, as he pants underneath you. 
He’s got his eyes clenched shut with the pleasure, but as soon as he starts to come down, Crowley leans over to kiss him hungrily. The Angel reciprocates, reaching up to cup his jaw. 
You’re still snuggled up on Zira’s lap, the post-nut haze settling thickly and heavily into your skin. You let out a yawn, and lick your lips clean, the last of the Angel’s blood entering your system. 
“So,” you say tiredly as Crowley leans against the other arm of the chair next to the pair of you. “I’ve learned some things today.” Your fingers dance over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Who would have thought Angel’s blood would be such a powerful aphrodesiac, huh?” 
Crowley hums in thought before giving you a wicked grin, a hint of a flash of yellow behind his sunglasses.
“Makes you wonder what Demon’s blood can do, eh?” 
Hmm, makes you wonder indeed…
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monzamash · 1 year
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the best man — daniel ricciardo
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daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 6.5k summary – he’s the best man, you’re the maid of honour. he’s charming and handsome, you’re single and looking for a good time. it’s an open bar wedding in swan valley and oh, he’s your ex boyfriend – what could go wrong? warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language)
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It had been 2 years in the making, the event of the decade your best friend had humbly coined her nuptials. And she was right – her and Blake had been waiting for what felt like a lifetime to show their love to the world or more specifically, to nearly 400 of their closest friends and family. It had been quite the build up with a global pandemic getting in the way and coordinating a wedding in Australia when so many of their guests were travelling in from overseas wasn’t easy. But they persevered and had finally made it to their wedding eve, guests from around the world checking into nearby hotels and resorts, excited for their big day.
For you, however, it was the rehearsal dinner that had you on edge from the second you stepped off your delayed Qantas flight that morning – stomach in knots over the unknown of it all. The few details that you were aware of were the ones that had you tangled up; the first being that you were Sarah’s maid of honour, one that you took very seriously but because of the border lockdowns and hectic work schedules, you hadn’t been as involved as you would’ve liked.
The second detail was the one that really had you in a chokehold. Up until this point, you’d avoided the inevitable, relief washing over you every time either Blake or Sarah said he couldn’t make it to the wedding party zoom call or when a suit fitting that Sarah had begged you to come along to was cancelled. Avoiding him had been a breeze so far, your communications kept mediated between your two best friends.
But today was D-day.
“You are rocking that LBD, girlie.”
Sarah’s voice brought you out of your phone and into the present, her bright white smile lighting up the room. It was the happiest you’d even seen your best friend and that alone was enough of a reason to grin and bear what was to come with him.
“Well I am technically single and hopefully out of the thousands of people you’ve invited to your shin-dig, there’s at least one suitor for me to have a crack at,” You winked, “But not your uncle Graham – he’s not my type.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and turned towards the full length mirror propped up beside your chair, “He’s back with Aunty Shirl so don’t worry… But I do know someone else who is single – definitely your type and actually mentioned you a few times last week.”
An interested hum slipped from your lips, curious to know who had been asking about you. Maybe you were in luck.
“Who was it?”
The way Sarah smirked and flicked her long blonde, perfectly curled hair off her shoulder should’ve given her away; “Just a friend of Blake’s – the classic tall, dark and handsome, you know… Brown eyes, absolutely hilarious and such a gentleman…” She continued, her tone teasing.
You blinked a couple of times, completely deadpanned as you stared your best friend down; “You better not be talking about Dan.”
“He’s still hung up on you, babe.” Sarah confessed, treading carefully.
“I don’t care,” You whined, irritated that this conversation was even happening. It had taken you months to move on, to mend your broken heart and now here you were, getting the run around by your supposed best friend who only wanted what was best for you. In her opinion, that was Daniel Ricciardo.
“Well just be civil with him. I know things didn’t end well and I know that you blame him for all of it and rightfully so,” Sarah quickly added, sensing your narrowed stare, “But you did love him once upon a time. A lot. And I know that you love me and wouldn’t do anything to fuck up my moment so get your sexy butt up so I can go see my husband.”
“Aye, aye captain.”
Anything to end this conversation, you thought.
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Caversham House was beautiful. Everywhere you looked was picture-perfect – from the balcony overlooking the river to the four-story high waterfall framing the immaculate gardens, not to mention the painstakingly placed candles and floral arrangements hanging in every room. It was spectacular, tastefully extravagant and definitely worth the twelve-month wait.
The rehearsal dinner was strictly wedding party and parents only; everyone would have to wait until tomorrow to witness the event of the decade. Blake was the first person to come up and greet you, having only seen you a couple hours before when you’d arrived at the villas nearby. Michael was closely following behind with his wide smile; always making you feel loved,regardless of what had happened between you and his best friend.
“It’s really good to see you. Been too long, ey?” He asked, the pained inflection on his voice making you pout before you were ushered away by one of the other bridesmaids, promising him that you’d meet him at the bar for a drink later.
He was easy to pick out a crowd. The one who shall not be named; who had broken your heart into a million tiny pieces; who left you with nothing but an empty promise that maybe, one day he would find his way back to you. Utter bullshit.
He was standing with Sarah and her parents who practically raised you, chilled beer in his hand, smiles on their faces and loud laughs rousing the flock of ducks floating across the pond behind them. That fucking smile made you sick because it’s what landed you with said broken heart. Stunned in place, unable to process seeing him again after so long. It had only been six months but it felt like a lifetime without him – and without that stupidly infectious smile.
Daniel was the first to notice you walking over; truth be told, he’d been looking for you the second he stepped out of his hire car twenty minutes ago. Subtle scans of the garden and beyond, peeks over the balcony he was standing on, hoping to see you. He ached thinking about this moment, even last night in his hotel in Perth he thought about you – and whether you would speak to him, or even glance his way. You would have to, right? He was the best man and you were the maid of honour. Surely.
“Hi guys,” You smiled, confidence summoned out of nowhere, surprising yourself. Sarah’s parents were quick to pull you into a cuddle, claiming that you were too cool and way too busy for them these days, which the latter was true. You felt guilty but also knew they understood. They appreciated the little moments like this where they could get their whole family together again and you felt lucky to be a small part of that.
“We were just talking to Daniel about the season starting in a few weeks – are you going to be at the first race, love?” Sarah’s mum asked, and you hadn’t even registered that she was talking to you, assuming that everyone knew by now that you and Daniel had broken up.
Her question, albeit innocent, felt like a punch to the gut – one of the many painful reminder of how interconnected your life together had been for so many years. She wasn't the last person that weekend to remind you of what you'd lost, opening old wounds over and over.
“Actually Mum, I should go and find Blake and get started – your seats are over here…” Sarah was quick to jump into action, ushering her parents over to their table and leaving you and Daniel alone for what felt like the longest minute of your life.
He looked nervous but happy to see you. He looked jetlagged like you, and the way his frazzled curls fell onto his face indicated that the humidity had gotten to him already, the obscene summer heat doing the same to you. The small smile tugging on the sides of his mouth eased you, the quiet whistle he made also allowed you to relax. He was good at filling in uncomfortable silences – you, not so much.
“So…” You drawled, pondered out loud trying to fill the void, “Keeping well?”
Daniel stopped whistling and stifled a laugh at your seemingly innocuous question, “Really?”
“Well, what do you want me to say?” You sharply shot back, chuckling at his judgement, “Great to see you? How’s the family? Like…”
Daniel shuffled his feet on the pavement and looked up at the darkening sky above, “No, you’re right – I’m sorry. It’s just… so fucking weird seeing you after – after everything that happened in Austin,” He leaned forward and whispered, eyes boring into yours as he spoke.
You gave him a small nod, hard features softening the longer you held his stare. You always felt safe in those eyes but right now, you couldn’t let yourself get lost in them like you usually would. Daniel could sense your vulnerability and averted his gaze to his sneakers, saving you both from the heartache.
“I know but I don’t want to stress them out,” You looked over at Sarah and Blake who were speaking with their MC, “So let’s keep our distance and get through the weekend without any drama, please?”
Daniel frowned at your suggestion, wanting the complete opposite of distance but he knew he had no right to fight you on it “Sure...” He settled, a pang of disappointment shooting through his chest, “I can do that.”
“Great.”
You turned on your heel and set your sights on the job at hand. It was no mean feat being the maid of honour to someone as capricious as Sarah but she was glowingly in love; blissful compared to a week ago when she called you in the middle of the night crying, thinking that she’d forgotten to book a DJ. Of course you reassured her and sent her the wedding itinerary for the hundredth time that week, easing her nerves like only a best friend could.
And Daniel was in the same predicament, moving around the room wrangling groomsmen into their agreed upon seating arrangement. All of this ensuing chaos hidden behind your respective smiles and you knew then that at some point you would have to join forces; like you did when you were together. Five years of being the dream team.
“Why did they decide to have a million people in their wedding party?” You whispered once everyone was seated; now waiting for the bride and groom to make their entrance.
Daniel chuckled as he shuffled closer to you, the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday years ago filling your nostrils. It warmed your heart to know that he was still wearing it after the break up, no doubt that it reminded him of you every time he put it on. So many memories tied up in the smell of that cologne.
“Makes no sense to me but I’m proud of you for not slapping Izzy when she refused to sit next to Mark,” Daniel whispered causing a stifled laugh to slip from your smirking lips, “You did good, chook.”
Your nickname fell from his lips too easily, too familiar and your eyes rolled involuntarily. Of course he’d call you that, pushing the boundaries because there had never been a moment in the time that you’d known Daniel where he wouldn’t step over a blurred line. Hell, that’s how it started with him – a drunken night out and breakfast the next morning. He was nothing if not persistent and loved that once upon a time. But for now, you both had to be laser focused on the people who had found each other because of the two of you – a blind date turned into happily ever after.
“You did good too.”
You stayed true to your word and got a drink with Michael once the rehearsal was over – taking full advantage of the complimentary drinks being served by the luxurious resort you were all staying at. As you caught up with Michael, you couldn’t help but scan around the ballroom, unable to fathom how picturesque this place was in real life. It was heaven on earth.
Months ago, you found out that Daniel had been the one to suggest the venue after Blake and Sarah’s original plans fell through during the pandemic and the days following that revelation were tough. Crying yourself to sleep kind of tough. Caversham House had been written in your dream journal since yours and Daniel’s third anniversary – you remembered his words like they were said yesterday.
“My cousin got married at this amazing mansion in Swan Valley last year. One of the most beautiful places in the world…”
It was a throw away comment; an observation that Daniel may not have even realised struck you so much. But you went home that night and googled it; concluding that if Daniel ever proposed and you got to plan your wedding, Caversham House would be the place you would marry the love of your life. You never voiced that to Daniel and sadly, that day never came.
But years later here you were, watching your best friend living out your dream and you couldn’t have been happier for her – for them. Daniel had missed his chance, thrown it all away for god knows what and you couldn’t help but feel your blood starting to boil as he approached you and Michael sitting at the bar, your memories like little daggers sharpening in your mind.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Daniel tentatively asked, a fresh beer in hand and a sheepish smile on his face. He knew he was.
“Nah mate. Pull up a seat if you want,” Michael replied and tugged out the stool beside him but Daniel glanced down at you with wide eyes, seeking permission before taking up Michaels offer.
“Join us.”
It was subtle but you could see Daniel exhale a sigh of relief, you knew him better than anyone. You could see the weight lifting from his shoulders as he sat across from you, trying to temper his joy that you'd agreed to have him anywhere near you.
And in typical Daniel fashion, he slotted into the group seamlessly, never an awkward pause of silence or a lull in conversation whenever he was around. He was the social butterfly, the one everyone loved and you were always content with that when you were together. After the split, it became obvious how much everyone loved him and you lost touch with most of your mutual friends – Michael included.
It was a bitter pill to swallow and you resented him in the beginning but watching him talk, crack the odd joke here and there you could understand why. Like Sarah had noted in her room earlier, he was the whole package but he broke your heart. And he regretted that every second of every day. He’d tried so hard to forget the way you smiled, the way you giggled softly, trying to suppress the real laugh that only he ever got to hear. You were glowing under the lights, hair swirling around in the evening breeze and Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off you.
The grimace on his face when you caught him made you smile, eyes narrowed with suspicion as he shrugged and mouthed, I’m sorry. You mirrored his shrug and took a sip of the glass of white wine he’d gotten you when he got up to get himself a drink. Truth be told, you couldn't keep your eyes of him either.
Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting alone – Michael made up some story that he needed to speak with Blake and that he would be back but he never returned. And you hadn’t really even noticed his absence until your phone buzzed on the table between you and Daniel.
“… But being back on the farm over the break was nice – the kids asked where you were and said that they missed you a bunch of times.”
Daniel noticed the way you looked at your phone. The small smile followed by the lip bite gave you away and he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach dropped, knowing that expression all too well. It was one he’d been on the receiving end of so many times. You flipped your phone over, screen down and returned to your conversation with apologetic eyes, “Sorry, what did you say? Something about the farm?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Daniel smiled and nodded towards your phone, “Answer him if you need to.”
You were slightly caught of guard, naively thinking you’d kept your cards close to you chest. Or maybe you had and Daniel was baiting to see if you’d admit that you were talking to someone new, finally moving on after six months. He was hard to read but he knew you better than anyone and you hated the way he was watching you, waiting for a response.
“Nah, all good. It’s not a serious thing,” You stupidly confessed, internally face palming as the words slipped from your loose lips.
“But it is a thing?” Daniel was quick to enquire, selfishly wanting to know whether or not you had moved on, if he'd missed his chance.
“Forget I said anything, please,” You swiftly replied, taking a gulp of wine and wilfully hoping he would drop it. He didn’t want to but he could see the warning in your stern gaze, silently begging him not to interrogate you over this, not here.
“I just want you to be happy.” Daniel landed on; honest eyes boring into yours as he clasped his hands together and sighed loudly into the cool air. 
“I was happy with you and then you threw it away like it meant nothing to you,” You breathed, hands expressively falling to your sides and busying your fingertips on the hem of your dress.
“You mean – meant more to me than anything. I just… woke up one day and realised that you deserved better; more than what I could give you being away for months on end,” He quietly replied, the words feeling dry as he explained why he’d cut you lose and broke your heart.
The scoff erupting in your throat caught Daniel’s attention, “Don’t you think I should’ve been the person deciding that, not you?”
“Of course but in the moment it felt like the right thing to do and I fucked up… I really, really screwed it up, chook. Do you ever think–”
Suddenly, you heard your name being shouted from across the lawn, both you and Daniel snapping your heads around to see Sarah waving her arms like a maniac trying to get your attention, “Time for bed, guys! Early start tomorrow."
Neither or you wanted to end the conversation there, on a cliffhanger because simply being close to each other again fuelled something internally that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He gave you strength whenever he was near and you gave him solace, a sense of calm that nobody else could ever replicate. And tearing yourselves away from that was hard, so much so that a stand off had begun.
“After you,” Daniel motioned with a smirk, reading you like a book.
“You just want me to go first so you can check out my arse in this dress,” You teased and poked his shoulder, “Pervert.”
“Absolute tickets but honestly, yeah…” He winked as you stood up and smoothed out the dress that had ridden up slightly, his eyes shamelessly scanning your outfit, “Unbelievable.”
A blush crept up your neck as his words washed over you but you couldn’t let him see that, “Goodnight, Daniel.” You said, turning on your heel and fleeing the scene as quickly as you could, but not without a little strut as you walked away.
Daniel exhaled deeply and watched you until you were out of his sight, not even noticing the dip in the couch he was sitting on.
“Put your tongue back in ya mouth and go to bed.”
Michael had caught him red handed and now it was hit turn to furiously blush. He was down bad and had no idea how he was supposed to sleep, knowing you were a couple of villas down, thinking about him, thinking about you. He missed you in so many ways, the obvious ones now being the ones on his mind as he lay in bed, fingers trawling through his hair as he tried to think of anything else but you. What eventually lulled him to sleep was the promise of tomorrow – a new beginning.
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After a couple of hours of complete and utter panic, the weather had finally decided to put on a show for the newlyweds. The clouds that had dampened the morning vanished as soon as the fleet of vintage cars rolled up the stoned driveway, arriving fashionably late. You had done your best to calm Sarah but she was already teary, eyes blinking rapidly in attempt to control the tears threatening to ruin her make up. Just breathe, you’d whispered as her sister made her way down the carpeted aisle, sun shinning down on the gorgeous archway at the top of the stairs.
“Let’s go and get you married to the man of your dreams, hey?”
That was all you needed to say before Sarah nodded and pushed you towards the open doors, one last wink giving you the reassurance that she would be right behind you. The ceremony was beautiful; there were many tears and laughter rumbling through the large crowd when Blake made a joke about her being stuck with him for the rest of her life. Everything else flew by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Daniel was reaching out for your hand, clasping it gently in his as he guided you down the stairs and out to the balcony where the photos were going to be taken before joining the reception.
“Champagne?” Daniel asked you, flute already locked and loaded in his hand – he knew you couldn’t resist a glass of bubbly, not after such a stressful morning.
“Please and thank you,” You sighed, taking a sip and glancing over at the happy couple who had already started doing photos together.
“Can’t believe it’s actually happened.”
Daniel followed your eye line and smiled, “Who knew 4 years ago when we set them up that we’d end up here…” He pondered out loud and you agreed, you never would’ve guessed it, "It's amazing."
“I said it back then and I stand by it now; we should be professional match-makers. We’re literally 1 for 1 right now,” You enthused, reflecting Daniel’s grin.
“Oh, we’re fucking killing it. Alright, let’s see…” He trailed off and looked around the balcony at the other groomsmen and bridesmaids making small talk, “What about big Mike? Been single for a while now and way too obsessed with my shit so getting him laid would benefit me too… Izzy’s single, right?”
“She is!” You whispered a little too enthusiastically that Daniel jumped back and laughed, “But she’s a commitment girl so I don’t think a hit it and quit it vibe or his travelling would be a good match. Marcia is a bit rogue… definitely single and down for anything, I reckon... Ooo, this is too much fun!”
Daniel chuckled and soaked in your excitement – it had been so long since he’d seen you smile like that, so free and uninhibited. Like his simple existence wasn’t sucking the life out of you and wasn’t making you miserable for the first time in over a year. He felt guilty taking so much emotionally from you, the toll of his work effecting both of you in the end. He hadn’t said it out loud but he knew that his mental health was having a detrimental effect on you but you loved him. Loved him with every cell in your body and you would never have given up on him. And little did he know, you still hadn’t after all this time.
“You are so beautiful.”
Daniel’s words surprised you and there was a second of silence before he doubled down with a soft laugh, “Like, breathtakingly beautiful.”
What you did next startled Daniel. Your hand brushed over the buttons on his light blue jacket, fingertips gently readjusting the small flower arrangement pinned on the lapel as you took in his compliment. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t ignite a spark within, a small flutter of your heart making you blush as he reached out and grasped your hips in his warm hands. The silk was soft under his palms, barely even a second passed before you melted into his touch, wishing for more than a friendly exchange.  
“Thank you,” You whispered, eyes flickering up through your thick eyelashes – his brown ones gleaming with joy as you trailed your hands down his chest and gave him a soft push towards the photographers standing behind him, “Get that million dollar smile ready, Ricciardo because I think we’re being summoned.”
He continued to seek you out for the rest of the night, hypnotised by the smell of your perfume and the softness of your touches; the latter caused by the couple of glasses of wine you’d consumed.
Daniel loved it when you were a tiny bit tipsy. He loved the little giggles that you gifted him and the way you hung onto him just that little bit longer. The memories of the two of you stumbling down the footpath outside your home together last summer, barely making it up the stairs and through the door came flooding back when you whispered in his ear, “You are so bloody handsome.”
“Excuse me?” He chuckled; hand sprawled over the small of your back as he placed his jacket over your shoulders, “You heard me,” You shot back, smirk plastered across your face as you grasped his hand. “Come dance with me.”
Daniel had been waiting for you to ask, praying you’d be the one to drag him out onto the dance floor. You knew what you wanted and you didn’t hesitate throwing your arms over his shoulders, forcing his hands to snake down yours sides and grasp your swaying hips. The floor was packed with people dancing along to the DJ who was mainly spinning 90s R&B – a personal favourite of yours and the bride.
Daniel was in heaven as your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the music transporting you back to the first time you met – the night when your life changed in the blink of an eye. He knew to savour it, never taking your intimacy for granted because he knew that you were hurting more than him, and you had every right to be. But in that moment, as he looked down into your glossy eyes, he saw the woman he fell in love with – the one he loved more than anything in the entire world. His girl.
You were barely inches apart when he leaned down and kissed you; lips ghosting before taking what they wanted, what they craved. Even though it was Daniel making the first move, you were going to if he didn't soon and the smile erupting on your face when he pulled back reassured him that he’d made the right call. Cutting the tension with a knife and making your blush under the thick layer of makeup that hadn’t budged all day.
There was a short pause as you stared at each other, unsure whether you were fully on the same page or not but Daniel didn’t want to wait any longer. He’d waited nearly six months to be with you, to touch you; to taste you.
“Do you wanna…?”
“Yes!” You hastily replied, making Daniel chuckle before he wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you off the dance floor and away from the loud music; both of you wildly aroused and tingling with anticipation.
The mansion where the reception was being held was enormous. Guest bedroom after guest bedroom lined the hallways so you were a little shocked when you were pulled into a bathroom at the end of the passageway. It was massive, bigger than your kitchen back home and the sconces hanging from the dark walls looked nearly 100 years old, barely emitting any light. It was definitely setting a mood and you weren't complaining at all.
“There’s locks on the bathrooms but not the bedrooms,” Daniel explained, sensing your surprise at his choice of location. You nodded and reached out for him, already missing the way his body felt on yours as he pinned you against the tiled wall, heat radiating down your spine as he feverishly kissed you again.
“You’ve done me in dirtier places,” You moaned and he chuckled against your neck, lips travelling across your collarbone and between your perky breasts.
The fire that had been smouldering in the pit of your stomach all night was being stoked by his firm touch, every trace of a fingertip or rough tug on your sensitive skin making you whimper with excitement. You needed him to fuck you good.
“I’d do you anywhere, honey.”
You hummed and roughly grappled Daniel’s curls between your fingers as he dipped down further and grasped the hem of your dress. A small shrug was enough to let the thick suit jacket he had given you fall to the ground, goose bumps erupting all over your arms as he left a trail of sloppy kisses up your thighs; stopping right where you wanted him and letting the flowy material of your dress drape over his head, disappearing from your sight. He knew your body like the back of his hand and knew you loved nothing more than his warm breath fanning between your thighs, glistening all for him.
“I want you to fuck me against this mirror,” You strongly suggested through batted eyelashes as he returned into view, a smirk painted on the supple lips that were seconds away from devouring you.
“Don’t want my tongue?” Daniel cheekily asked, still crouched down and gazing up at you with those big brown eyes, waiting for your response. “Maybe later,” You whispered, watching as he jumped up with a grin, eager to fulfil whatever you desired.
“Hands up where I can see them, ma’am,” Daniel playfully ordered and you played along, holding your hands up in the air as he spun you around so you were facing the dark mirror. You could feel yourself soaking through your flimsy panties and if you could feel it, Daniel definitely could as he slid his hand into the lace, cupping you gently and stroking a single finger through your folds.
“Spread ‘em,” He whispered into your ear before pressing a firm to your temple and kicking your heeled feet apart.
Your hands were gripping the sink in front of you; white knuckling already but knowing that this wasn’t anything compared to what Daniel could do to you. He once had you bucking on his thigh like it was the last orgasm you were ever going to have, screaming in pleasure like you were being tortured. And now, all you could think about was his hard dick pressing against your backside, taunting you under the thick material of his trousers.
“Danny,” You quietly moaned through gritted teeth and Daniel knew what that moan meant, not wasting a second before unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles. He did the same with your underwear, except he bent all the way down to rid you of them so he could keep them in his discarded jacket pocket for safekeeping.
“I’m gonna need those back, sir.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t think so,” Daniel teased, standing back up straight and catching your eyes in the reflection in front of him.
“Gotta be quiet for me, okay?” He sweetly whispered, tongue swiping across the shell of your ear as he teased your hole with his soft tip, the feeling of your excitement mingling together making your shiver, “Already feels so good.”
You hummed as Daniel nudged forward, his thickness took your breath away as you closed your eyes and leaned over the sink a little more; taking all of him, inch by inch. He could feel how tight you were, trying to not let his mind wander to whether you’d been fucked by anyone else since the break up. Because if you had, he knew it wasn’t anything compared to how good he could do you with the way you were already choking back moans. Whimpering for more.
“Relax for me, honey. The clenching feels crazy fuckin’ good for me but I need you to just take me nice and slow,” Daniel coached, smoothing his palms over your hips and slowly rocking you back and forth against him, “God, your arse really is something else,” He rasped, lightly tapping your rump as you looked up at him in the mirror, narrowed eyes sending him a stern warning.
“Don’t even think about it and don’t try the whole ‘oh, I accidently slipped’ trick because I know you,” You playfully scowled, trying to hide the smirk tugging on the corners of your lips.
Daniel tipped his head back and cackled at you calling him out, revelling in the banter and the fact you knew him inside and out. He’d missed being called out on his shit and he loved nothing more than when you teased him during sex, the laughter ringing off the walls while he watched himself disappear into you.
“You’re tight enough already, baby so no shenanigans tonight,” Daniel groaned and jutted his hips forward, jolting you closer to the mirror in the process. He readjusted his tight grip on the satin dress that he'd bunched up around your hips and caught your gaze in the reflection again, “I bet old mate texting you last night couldn’t fuck you like this, ey?”
“Never gave him the chance,” You panted in reply, eyes trained on Daniel’s as he pounded into you, thighs trembling in pleasure as he stalked you, every little wince or twitch never went unnoticed and you felt hot under his gaze, his hot breath and soft groans fanning into your ear.
“Good. No man deserves you, honey – not even me.”
The little burst of confidence his words gave you spurred you on as you bounced back and met his hips with a slap, quickening the pace and really pushing the limits on how loud you could be in such a public setting. Your voice was coarse and your knees were quivering as Daniel trailed his hands up to your chest, boobs practically spilling out of the satin dress as he bucked into you. He gently pulled down the loose fabric, along with the lacy bra and cupped your breasts in his hands, using them as leverage as he fucked into you. Proudly watching his work unfold in front of him.
The feeling of his rough palms massaging your breasts was enough to cause a loud, pornographic moan to rip from your throat – one that could’ve been heard for miles. One of Daniel’s hands shot up and covered your mouth in an attempt to keep you as quiet as he could while got you off, wanting nothing more than having come undone around his stiff cock.
“Look at how damn sexy you are right now,” Daniel grumbled, eyes trained on yours so intensely. You nodded and moaned into his palm, feeling like your souls were re-connecting as he slowed down the pace and relished the feeling of you wrapped around him, bouncing on that dick so perfectly. He was in paradise.
Until the handle on the bathroom door started jiggling beside you, the loud bang that followed made both you both jump out of your perspiring skin. Daniel’s hand lingered over your mouth, his dick stilled inside you as the handle rattled again – more aggressively this time. The person on the other side didn’t say anything; the only sound swirling around the humid air was bated breath, both of you winded from the adrenaline. And from how exciting it felt nearly being caught with him filling you to the brim.
“Fuck,” Daniel whispered as he looked up at you and dipped his head into the crook of your neck, “Do you wanna keep going?”
The deviant side of your brain was screaming hell yes but the rational voice that kept you level headed was telling you to hit the pause button. It was risky enough doing the deed so publicly, something that you and Daniel never shied away from but right now, when you were both supposed to be at the beck and call of your best friends at their wedding; it all seemed a little bit decadent.
“We should get back,” You whispered, confirming what Daniel already assumed as he slowly pulled out and strategically manoeuvred his semi hard dick into the waistband of his underwear, attempting to hide how hard he still was in those deliciously tight pants.
“Good call… but uh, that was fun,” He stuttered and watched you smooth out your dress, his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you looked in the mirror and gently wiped under your eyes; removing any signs that you’d just been fucking your ex in a bathroom.
“Really fun,” You replied, wicked smile lining your smudged lips as Daniel stepped forward and helped you back into his suit jacket.
“We should do it again some time…”
“Absolutely – when were you thinking?”
“Oh, I dunno…” He pondered with a cunning smirk, “Maybe like, now?”
You chewed your bottom lip between your front teeth and sighed; you loved that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, both dying to finish what you started and maybe indulge in even more bad behaviour. It was like old times but different - good different.
“I’m staying in the Cliffside suite so… meet you there in halfa?”
Daniel clapped his hands enthusiastically and rubbed them together, “Sounds like a great fucking plan to me,” He agreed, grinning big and gently pushing you towards the door he was opening for you, looking both ways down the hallway.
“You go first so I can watch you walk away from me in that dress,” Daniel quietly teased as you sashayed down the hallway and back to where the reception was still going strong, “You are killing me!”
“I know!” You shouted back, flipping him the middle finger before spotting Sarah on the dance floor, eyes suspiciously narrowed as you shimmied over to her, smiling like the cat that got the cream.
“Where did you get to?!” She yelled over the music, definitely on her way to being drunk from the flutes of champagne that were still being served by the gallon.
“Just needed to freshen up!” You shouted back and looked over your shoulder at Daniel who had joined a conversation near the bar.
There was a giddy feeling that washed over you after you turned back to Sarah and listened to her ramble about how good the music was and how much fun she was having. It was a familiar feeling; the same one you had the night you met Daniel all those years ago. But now, in his home state, surrounded by so many people you loved, you had both been gifted the rare chance to start over.
To fall in love all over again. This was your second chance at a happily ever after.
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a//n – thank you for all the support and patience on this one! thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing x
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ailithnight · 1 year
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A fic based on this prompt by @chaoswarfare that I had originally put in the reblogs, but decided to move to its own post since I've got some ideas to continue it. No promises on this ever being a completed fic, but I'll try.
A King in Arkham
Listless eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling; their owner blinking slowly from his place, lying nearly motionless on a thin mattress supported by a metal shelf held to the wall by thick black chains. His face is blank, not sad nor angry nor despairing like so many others in this cold and lonesome place. No, his expression is empty, as though there is simply nothing to feel.
Bruises and scratches and even a couple very deep cuts litter a small body. Were anyone watching, they'd see a new one appear as if by magic across a gaunt cheek. Even as blood begins weeping from the slash, not a single emotion flits across the face. Not even a flinch.
Tomorrow, doctors will assume the patient cut himself. They will search his cell, again, and find no weapon. They will search his body and find not so much as a fingernail capable of creating the mark. They will check the security feed and find, as always, that the moment of injury glitches; one second no cut, the next fresh blood. They will try to force the patient to admit self harm, but he will remain silent.
When the door to his cell swings open with a buzz and a clang, echoed by every other cell in the building, the blank faced boy with dull eyes doesn't move. It's the 6th time this month, and the 13th since arriving 3 months ago.
When the sounds of screams and rioting grate on sensitive ears, he merely sighs, the first hint of feeling flashing across his face in the form of a minute second of frustration before blankness returns. When a pair of escaping patients rush past, one stopping to ask if he's coming, he remains unresponsive.
"Leave him! Kid never tries to escape. He's to far gone."
The kid in question feels his eyebrow twitch. He's not 'gone' anywhere, thank you very much. There's just no point. Nowhere to go. No one to help him; to understand that he's not crazy, just haunted. At least, no one who won't turn him into a monster. A horrible, world destroying, viscious monster.
Besides, Arkham's not too bad. At least it isn't a GIW lab. And his rogues have even started showing up less and less since he was sent here! Though maybe that has less to do with Arkham or Gotham and more to do with the kid's utter refusal to even defend himself.
"Now come on before Bats start showing up and put this place on lockdown."
A black form with a red head drops from above, just barely within the kid's peripheral vision. A brief moment of recognition and even something adjacent to interest flickers in blue eyes.
"Bats like me, perchance?"
.
Red Hood was assisting containment with an Arkham breakout. There had been a lot of them in the last few months and Batman was getting grey hairs trying to figure out why. No one in particular was even trying to break out. No one could be pinned for the inciting incident. Just randomly, at any point in the day, the automatic locks would spazz out and everyone would be released.
So the big bad Bat had called all hands on deck, requesting at least one vigilante be at or near Arkham at all times, hoping to at least keep most of the big fish in their cages while they tried to figure out what the hell was going on. And Jason had graciously agreed to help. So here he was, at 3am on a Saturday morning; assisting guards in keep inmates corralled; keeping any eye out for any maximum security escapees.
With none spotted so far, and the people below him literally admitting that they're giving up hope when the Bats arrive, Jason figured he might as well see if a bit of scare tactic will convince them to go back to bed willingly.
"Bats like me, perchance?" The would be escapees in front of him startle and whip around.
"Red Hood?"
"The one and only." Jason shifts to not so subtlely place a hand on his weapons. "Now why don't you 2 just go on back to your rooms and we can forget this little infraction. I won't even tell the guards to write up a discipline slip." The two inmates eye him, then his guns, then each other warily. Finally, they both raise their hands in surrender and begin walking back to their cells.
Jason permits himself a quiet chuckle, much to low to be picked up by the modulator. As he turns back to grapple up to his bird's eye view in the rafters, his eyes catch sight of the inmate who apparently doesn't try to escape. For just a moment, green swamps his vision as Red Hood registers the sight in front of him.
He almost steps in to the cell before a harsh buzz sounds and cell doors clang shut again. An intercom crackles to life announcing the effective lockdown, instructing guards to begin escorting patients back to their cells, cataloging each attempted escapee for future disciplinary measures.
Batman's voice sounds out over comms.
Not a single inmate made it past the main gate. Good job Hood.
Jason seethes for moment longer in front of the cell before biting out his question on the main channel.
What the hell is a kid doing in Arkham!?
A strangled sound makes it through the feed and Nightwing responds, strained.
What?
A KID! Can't be older than 15. In cell... 26B. Looking rather roughed up, I might add. Since why does Arkham even accept minors?
Oracle responds.
Pulling records right now.
Jason eyes the kid, who seems to be entirely unfazed by Red Hood discussing his imprisonment 8 feet away from him. Actually, unfazed is the wrong word. Apathetic is better. Entirely emotionless. Green threatens Jason's vision again as he ponders the potential reasons for the look of resigned desolation on a face so young.
Looks like he was transferred over from a psych ward in Illinois 3 months ago. Ward of the State. File says self-destructive behavior. Apparently he picks up unexplainable injuries and claims ghosts gave them to him.
That still doesn't explain why they sent him to Arkham!
Batman's voice filters back in.
Hood, pull out.
Jason has to force himself to keep his voice down.
WHAT!? I'M NOT LEAVING A KID HERE!
It's almost 4am. Red Robin is on route to relieve you.
I AM NOT LEAVING A 15 YEAR OLD IN ARKHAM!
We will be investigating this further.
15! YOU KNOW, THE SAME AGE I WAS WHEN YOU LET ME DIE IN THAT FUCKING WAREHOUSE.
Jason almost regrets the statement as he here's Dick's stuttered breath. But it seems the kid might have heard him and something about the statement seems to catch his attention.
He actually turns his head to look quizzically at Jason. The expression only lasts a couple seconds before slipping back into blank neutrality as he turns back to the ceiling.
Batman's voice grinds in his ears, an edge in his tone telling Jason that if he doesn't listen, the Bat himself will come pull Jason out.
Hood, his transfer coincides with the start of these break outs. He may be involved. We will be investigating this further, very thoroughly. If he's clean, we will be getting him out of there. But for now I need you to pull out. File your report.
The tone softens.
And get some rest.
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eveningepiphany · 1 year
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masterlist ✭
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hello and welcome to my official masterlist! this will be updated regularly with every new work i post. thank you for all your ongoing support, all my love <3
the list is rather short at the moment, however it will continue to grow over time and we’ll definitely get a few series in here!
feel free to send in requests here
[*] indicates smut
—ONESHOTS (2022)
sick
Y/N is looking after harry when he’s got a bad case of the flu, and even though they’re both just friends, it’s clear they see each other as more than that.
and they were roommates*
when harry and Y/N have gone from longtime best friends to roommates, the lines that have been slowly blurring since their teen years are beginning to disappear altogether.
hotel room*
harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.
mistletoe*
[part one] [part two*]
you’re with the band at anne’s house the week of christmas and harry points out you’re both standing under a mistletoe.
—ONESHOTS (2023)
learn to knock*
not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.
lessons*
sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.
far from sober
[part one] [part two]
you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.
manbun*
harry and you are about to fuck in the back of his car, and you want his hair out for it. little do you know how much he likes a bit of hair pulling.
butterfly*
you’re on a holiday with your family and family friends— including harry— who hasn’t had a shirt on this whole time and things amp up quickly in your hotel room.
reconnect*
lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.
innocent*
while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.
tease*
seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.
go with it
your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.
SERIES—
welcome to the final show
you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later. leading to an exchange of numbers, and a lot of falling in love.
[part one]
[part two]
[part three]
[part four]*
pirates gold
being a royal, you always knew you were meant to keep your wits about you. despite never fitting into your status, a lapse of your judgement leads you to getting taken captive by a group of pirates, and their captain, Harry.
[part one]
Insatiable*
harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.
[part one]
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