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#smile was. it was. i didn't like the ending.
roosterforme · 2 days
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Vintage | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.
Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut
Length: 2700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."
Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.
"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."
The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."
Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 
"I'm going to miss you, too."
Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 
With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."
He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."
You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."
Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."
Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."
Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.
"I love you."
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Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.
When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...
He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 
If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."
When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.
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"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.
"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"
"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."
"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."
"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."
"Rooster!"
"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."
"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."
"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.
"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"
He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."
"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."
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After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 
He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.
As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.
Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.
My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.
She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.
Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."
"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"
"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."
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After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.
Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.
"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 
"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.
"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 
"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"
"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."
You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."
Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."
He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.
The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.
When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.
"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.
He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."
You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.
He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."
"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."
"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."
You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"
"Yep."
"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."
"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."
"Oh my god, Bradley."
He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.
"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."
He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."
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He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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jesuistrestriste · 2 days
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art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭
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art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.
he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.
the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.
the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.
after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.
but this didn't happen.
if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.
he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.
he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.
he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.
he liked yearned for it all.
when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.
one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.
it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.
but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.
when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.
he’ll drool.
all over.
down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.
just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.
he can't help it.
because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.
when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.
"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."
and he'll know right away what you mean.
"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.
he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.
slurp. wipe. whimper.
a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.
his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.
after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.
maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.
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surielstea · 3 days
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Desperate Males
1k celebration request!
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Pairing: Poly!Batboys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Morrigan convinces Reader to indulge in her fantasies with the three winged Illyrians, the ones that the reader resents for the way they treat her home court, the hewn city.
Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | p in v | riding | mating press | multi-orgasm | dirty talk | foursome (f, m, m, m) | and probably a lot others
A. Note: Thank you my lovely Lex (@lexluvswriting) for helping me finish this because I was STRUGGLING but I’m happy with how it turned out in the end :)
8.1k words .. half of it’s smut, whoops.
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Rita's was packed full of lusting fae and grinding figures, every single body in the pleasure hall was glistening with sweat beneath the dim lighting as they continued to rut against each other.
I was sat in the corner of the building, at a small booth I was sharing with Morrigan, gossiping about our relationship issues over a few too many glasses of wine.
Mor was one of the only people I could tolerate ever since Rhys dragged me out of the Court of Nightmares and to Velaris. I hadn't had much of a choice, the moment he found out I was his mate, he felt some form of entitlement to me, he was fortunate he wasn't ripping me away from anything special, less fortunate when he realized I held the mating bond with his two best friends as well. All three of them, sanctioned to me, a female who had no intention of ever accepting any of their bonds.
Mor was from the hewn city as well, born and raised in that wretched court. It made it easier to talk to her, she understood what I meant when I said it felt like I was living a lie, too good to be true and she knew what I meant when I tried to explain my fear of the ever-imposing threat that it'd be ripped out right from under me at any moment. No one could truly understand the way she could, and though my resentment towards the inner circle was much stronger than hers, she made an effort to relate and be there for me.
"So, how are the boys?" Mor grins suggestively before taking a sip from her drink. I groan, slumping into my seat as I think about the three very annoying males she was referring to.
"Desperate," I grumble and she chuckles into her glass.
"How so?" She smiles, leaning onto her hand propped up by her elbow. "Give me some examples," She urges.
I shake my head with an eye roll, saying, "I don't have any." She gives me an undefeated look, a raise of her brows telling me she was waiting for me to go on. "The stories are too long," I argue but she still remains unwavering.
"Good thing we've got time," She leans back in her seat, getting comfortable as if she was prepared to stay in the pleasure hall with me all night. "Start with Rhys."
Rhysand had a tendency of showing up to the house of wind unannounced, quite a lot. So much so that the male has probably been in this house more than his own. To be fair, he was the one paying for it so I suppose this was just as much his house as any of his other residences, but ever since I started living here his visits began to grow personal. I've only been residing in Velaris for a few months now but he still made it his mission to see me at least every other day. Each time he welcomed himself into the large house he'd have some sort of gift with him, tonight was no exception.
I didn't startle when I heard the front door open, and I barely even flinched when his baritone voice crooned from the direction of the couch as I entered the sitting room. He had his long legs stretched across the couch, his head tilted back against the armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest.
"Evening, darling," He drawls and I look at him with an indifferent expression.
"It's the middle of the night," I grumble, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet.
"I knew you were awake," He intoned and I rolled my eyes, filling my glass up with cold water.
"I'm about to go to bed," I claim, approaching the sitting room to look at him. He angles his head to meet my gaze, a sloppy smirk on his lips.
"Can I join?" He bats his eyelashes dramatically and I debate splashing my freshly poured water into his face. I decide not to, instead silently turning on my heel and retreating down the hallway. He shuffles off the couch and follows right behind me but I pay him no mind. I push open my bedroom door, leaving it open for his entry, because even if he agitated me it'd be a lie to say I disliked his attention. I was a simple female, and making him chase me like this so successfully was amusing, if not a little cruel.
"I have a gift for you," He informs in a sing-song tune.
"When do you not?" I say, placing my water down onto my nightstand and crawling into my large bed, Rhys had insisted on the size when we went furniture shopping so it could fit his wings, I had ignored his foolish assumption that he would ever sleep in my bed, but let him buy me the most expensive mattress anyway.
He reaches into a pocket dimension and removes a flat, rectangular, velvet box, one made for holding tiaras.
"I don't want your money Rhys," I sigh, watching as he situated himself on my bed, his long legs on either side of my hips, encasing me as I practically sit in his lap. "It's not money," He puts a hand up, waving me off. "I don't want your jewels or crowns either," I huff as he places the velvet box directly in front of me.
"It's not— just open it, will you?" His eyes plead with me more than his words. I stifle a curse and pick the ornate box up. It was heavier than I had been expecting, my brows crease as I slowly tilt the lid open, revealing what was inside. It wasn't money or gems, or even a fancy tiara, but a sleek dagger.
The hilt was solid obsidian, embellished with gold detailing, so well crafted it almost felt wrong to be in my hands. Deep red rubies adorned the top of the hilt in a teardrop shape, pointing up to the blade that's been polished to an impossibly sharp edge, Illyrian steel based upon the rich color of the metal. It was utterly elegant, in such a lethally arresting way.
I take the dagger from its confining box, my touch is delicate as I admire it from all angles, the blade moves so fluidly like the steel morphed into liquid when moving through the air. "You like it?" Rhys' voice breaks me from my trance and I grip the hilt a little tighter, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.
"It's unlike anything I've seen before," I murmur, still entranced by its beauty and the way it moved. He smiled at that, proud of himself for finding a way to impress me.
"It's an heirloom," He confesses and my expression drops, looking up at him.
"I can't take this," I immediately say, attempting to shove the dagger back into his hands.
"Sure you can," He sighs. "I have no use for it, and I heard you have a collection of pretty blades," He says, leaning back on his palms and ignoring the way I was haphazardly thrusting the dagger toward him.
"No, Rhys," I declare and his ears perk at the use of his nickname, he's been only Rhysand specifically for the last few months. "I can't, you're only doing all of this because we're supposed to be mates," I say. "I'm not worthy of your gifts, you're just blinded by the effects of the bond,” I say but my explanation must’ve failed to reach his ears because his smile simply remains.
"Darling, I'm a powerful male, if I didn't want the mating bond to affect me I wouldn't let it," He says cockily and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling at his pride. "I'm doing this, because I want to, it's that simple," He places his large hands on mine, closing my fingers around the dagger. "But, if you don't want it then—" He starts and I shake my head hurriedly. "No, no I do want it," I grip his hands tighter and his brows raise a fraction. "Perfect," His smile returns, but his hands don't let go of mine and maybe for a moment I let myself indulge in his comforting touch.
"And you're telling me the two of you didn't fuck after that?" Mor questioned, an appalled look on her face as I ended my story about the High Lord.
"He gave me a blade, it wasn't exactly getting me hot and bothered," I scoff and she smirks.
"He could've given you another blade," She murmured under her breath but it wasn't quiet enough for me to miss. "Mor!" I look at her with wide eyes but she only snickers.
"Okay, I'm not totally convinced you dislike him, but tell me about Cass," She urges and I deadpan.
"Are you going to make sex jokes again?" I raise an assuming brow.
"No promises," She croons. "Now tell me about him."
Cassian loved to strut around half-naked. His shirt was often absent when I was around. It was an obvious ploy to swoop me off my feet, to get me drooling over his more than impressive abdomen and his arms that could crush my head in. And perhaps I did drool over him in the solitude of my bedroom, but I'd never let him know that.
I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my dinner when I nearly choked on my bite of food as Cassian strolled in, clad in nothing but pants and glistening in sweat from training. His hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat at the back of his head, a sword half the size of me slung over his shoulder in a sheath. I swallow my food with effort, my eyes unable to avert from every expanse of skin starting below his neck.
"Hey sweetheart," He says, kicking the front door shut. I snapped my gaze to his but the smirk on his face made it evident that he caught me staring. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, propping his sword up against the side of the counter. I didn’t make dinner, he knew that, because if I had I would be retroactively accepting the mating bond, he just wanted to put the idea in my head.
"Az did," I say through bites, the shadow singer beside me, silently reading a book, successfully not paying Cassian any mind unlike me.
"Is it any good or do you miss my cooking?" He asks with an amused smile, earning him a glare from the spymaster.
"It's delicious," I say, taking another large bite. I hadn't meant to indirectly compliment Azriel but he slightly smiled at my insult on Cassian, then returning to his reading.
The other male grumbled beneath his breath like a toddler throwing a fit as he made himself a plate that seemed more like a feast fit for a starving man, walking to the table and sitting down directly in front of me.
"You're not going to change?" I ask and he raises a brow and looks down at himself.
"Do you, want me to?" He said, slightly confused.
"Well, what if I started showing up to dinner shirtless?" I cross my arms with a scowl, Cassian's eyes light with amusement and Azriel begins to choke on his own air, muffling his coughs as he stuffed his face into his arms.
"I don't think we'd mind," Cassian winked at me and I looked down at my plate, silently cursing myself for walking right into that one.
"I just think it's bad table manners, is all," I murmur, leaning onto my hand as I roll my food over with my fork, playing with it aimlessly.
"If it has that much of an effect on you, I'll go change," He begins to stand and I whip my gaze up, staring at him with creased brows, not wanting him to think I was entirely bothered by it.
"It doesn't have an effect on me," I blurt out and a smirk curves his lips.
"Then I won't change," He sits back down.
"Fine," I say.
"Fine," He agrees.
Dinner went on a regularity from there, that was until I was clearly done with my food and I hadn't retreated to my room like usual, instead, I was far too distracted analyzing all the scars on Cassian's tanned skin, the ones that had stories behind them that I'd most likely never hear, the ones I would've never seen if he hadn't come home without a shirt.
His chest was on full display, rippling in muscle, a tight abdomen that would have me lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering when I stared at it for a moment too long. And gods, his arms made my thoughts wander beyond just arousal, it was more than a craving. My hands were practically shaking in my lap and I was just grateful they were beneath the table.
My eyes snag on a particular scar cutting across his ribs and up to his sternum, it must've been a mess of blood and gore when he got it, only for it to heal over as a simple line slightly darker than his skin tone, beautiful.
"I got it in a duel," Cassian said and I whipped my head up, locking eyes with him.
"What?" I say, my back ramrod straight, visibly embarrassed by the fact that I was just caught for staring so unabashedly.
"My scar," He places a hand over it, tracing two fingers down the raised skin with a practiced, rehearsed movement like he's down it thousands of times before. "It was from an angry husband, his wife neglected to mention she was married and he took some offense towards our, familiarity." He explained. "Insisted on a duel," He shrugged, and I blinked in slight shock.
"You, lost a duel?" I said like the idea was obscene. "Aren't you considered one of the best swordsmen on the continent?" I raised a brow and he shrugged.
"Seemed like the right thing to do," He flashed a charming smile that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before. "You're ridiculous," I said, standing up and grabbing my plate, walking into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink. The Illyrian followed after me with his own plate, reaching over me and placing it in the basin beside mine.
I whirl around, which turned out to be admittedly a mistake. His bare chest was so close to my face that it was an effort to crane my neck up, keeping eye contact and not letting myself crumble beneath his gaze. "What do you think?" He asks and my eyes regrettably flick down to the scar, and I can't help myself as I reach forward, my fingers brushing over the rough line of skin and I swear for a moment both of us stop breathing. I tentatively pull my hand away, looking up at him with a smirk.
"I think you have enough testosterone to fuel an army," I hum, patting his chest before pushing past him and removing myself from the kitchen, attempting to ignore the way my hand remembered the feel of his skin against it.
Cassian turned to Azriel as soon as I was out of earshot. "That's a good thing, right?" The male mutters with a line between his brows. Azriel's eyes flick up from his novel to look at his brother. "I don't think so, no." He shakes his head, then returns to his page while Cassian's shoulders slump in defeat and he retreats to his room to find a shirt.
"You're telling me, you had your hand on Cassian, the male pushing seven feet, skin to skin and you didn't immediately surrender?" Morrigan says, her brows creased as she grows increasingly worried about my well-being. "Are you sick or something?" She reaches over the table, pressing a hand to my forehead and I scoff, the annoyed sound turning into a laugh as I push her hand away.
"I'm not sick," I claim. "Just a female who has no interest in large, muscular, beautiful, tan males," I grumble, taking a sip from my glass, my voice trailing off as I go on about how truly magnificent they are.
"Right," She settles back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "So," She smirks. "I know you've been saving the best for last," She leans forward, her grin uncontrollable as she rests her elbows on the table while she insists, "Tell me about Azriel."
My experience in Velaris so far was enjoyable— despite the three winged males, the people were kind here, the men didn't stare, the children weren't sickly, and the women held more value than the curvature of their bodies. It was nice here, like some false paradise.
A small part of me would forever hate Rhys and all the others living in his secret city for blindly living their perfect lives, while innocent people dreaded waking up every morning— because the best time they spent was unconscious, in their horrid city just below the mountain, only a short trip away. Such a drastic shift of atmosphere.
Sometimes when my guilt of being happy began to grow too unbearable I found myself in the library. The first and only place so far I've felt entirely safe. It was quiet here, enough to clear my thoughts, but not enough for unwanted ones to creep in. Priestesses bustled around the building with carts and stacks of books, keeping the tenor lively and welcoming.
So it was a shock when my safe space was suddenly and harshly ripped away from me when I saw a familiar winged Illyrian sitting in the spot I always chose. It wasn't mine by any means, but the bastard must've known this was the alcove I selected every time I came here, there was no way he just so happened to favor this spot as well with the amount of floors alone this place had.
"Move," I was particularly upset this morning due to lack of sleep from incessant nightmares. He only smirks, his eyes slow as they left the book he was so engrossed with, and dragged up to my features. Hazel pools flickering with amusement as he meets my gaze.
"Oh? Is this your spot?" He tilts his head mockingly and I grip my book harder.
I disliked Rhys for how he acts in the Hewn City, and Cassian for his overtly boisterous and arrogant behavior, but Azriel— no one quite got under my skin like Azriel. I couldn't exactly pin down why he made me so frustrated, perhaps it was because he would be the easiest to like, or maybe it was because I always thought he was the prettiest whenever they'd make their annual appearance in my home court, something about that particular fact made me hot with both rage and excitation.
"Well, I haven't exactly seen you sitting here before," I argue, clutching my book to my chest with furrowed brows.
"Fair point," He hums while scooting over and offering me a few more inches of space. It wasn't exactly the largest amount of seating area but he was kind enough to move, and I was far too tired to continue arguing. So I settled in beside him.
The spot I favored over all the others was nestled in a carved-out alcove, hidden from any peering eyes, located between shelves full of various hardback spines. The only viewpoint was from the balcony upstairs, or straight ahead. It felt safe, and I've yet to find any other place I liked as much as this one, so I was open to sharing as long as he kept to his book and I kept to mine, silently.
But the olive green couch wasn't big enough for the both of us and I quietly cursed his insanely large wings for taking up the entire area, one of the dark limbs spread out behind me while the other hung off the edge of the couch, the one behind my back however forced me closer to him, my side pressed against his, and my legs that I had pressed to my chest leaning onto his lap, so much so that I might as well have just been sitting in it, we must've looked ridiculous.
Nevertheless, he opened his book back up and offered me the peaceful quiet I craved. I did the same, cracking my book and finding the page I was on.
It was nice for a moment, the awkward silence morphing into something more comfortable as it grew familiar between us. I had even gotten a few chapters in before I reached a much more, graphic, chapter. The descriptions were downright erotic, and suddenly everything the male did stopped mattering because I was now entirely consumed by the book I had randomly picked off the shelves this morning.
"What are you reading?" He was so very close to my ear that I felt his breath against it, and I snapped my book shut, the sound echoing off the shelves of the quiet library.
"None of your business," I retort, whipping my head to him with stern brows, he narrows his at me suspiciously. "What about you?" I jerk my head towards his closed book like it's been neglected for more than just a few seconds. "Is it a guide on how to kill your brothers? Because I might be interested in reading that one next," I say with a smirk and he mirrors it.
"I wish, Cass practically kicked me out this morning with his atrocious singing while he made himself lunch," He grumbled and my lip quivered upward, my amusement unmanageable at the scene he put in my head, and I cursed myself because, of course, he notices.
"Oh, you think I'm funny?" He says and he was so damned close that one inch closer would result in noses brushing.
"Shh." I press my pointer finger to his soft lips. "No talking in the library." I smirk at him teasingly, removing my touch from his sensuous lips, dragging the bottom one down only for it to spring back up when I let go in an oddly satisfying way.
"We don't have to talk," He suggests, catching my hand before it can fall to my lap. My cheeks grow hot as he interlaces our fingers, palms pressing together, soft skin against scars. He notices my blush and moves that lethal inch closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against mine. "You want to kiss me so badly," He continues his taunts and I scowl, but I don't dare move away.
"Shut up," I bite back.
"Are you going to make me?" He arches a perfect brow and I grit my teeth, deciding I won't play his stupid games. I detangle our hands and turn away from him, but I can still feel his eyes on me.
"You're just as bad as your brothers," I claim, opening my book again.
"You wound me," He gasps in faux pain and I roll my eyes.
"Aren't you supposed to be the quiet one?" I huff, attempting to find the page I was on.
"Just because they're loud doesn't mean I don't speak too," He states, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Whatever," I grumble, and his wing curls around me a little tighter. He stayed silent for a moment, just a moment of relieving peace, but it was over as soon as it began and I was grateful for the second, but the opposite of gratitude came over me when he spoke again.
"This is filthy, love," He runs his finger down the edge of my book and I close the novel again, this time quietly so it doesn't reverberate throughout the library again.
"I'm not shaming you," His voice is deep and seductive as he speaks, so very close to my ear I swear with every word I could feel it vibrate down my spine. "Just wanted to let you know I'm open to recreating it," He suggested and I sighed, deciding I'd had enough of his banter, and stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I looked back to him.
"You're relentless," I say and he shrugs with a coy smile.
"No goodbye kiss?" He hums and I only shake my head and storm out of the alcove, leaving the library more frustrated than I was when I arrived.
"And?" Mor gestures her hands, demanding more.
"That was it," I shrug.
"You didn't go back and make out with him?" She creased her brows like I was insane.
"No, because I don't need a male to enjoy my life," I say. "You are one to understand that," I suggest with my brows raising and she simply rolls her eyes with dissatisfaction.
"Yeah, but— that doesn't mean you should strip yourself the pleasure of having all three of them," She wiggles her brows and my cheeks grow hot. "Or you could just pick one and miss out with the rest," She adds, before taking a sip from her glass, the liquid inside nearly gone.
I thought it might've been impossible to just pick one. They all had their own personalities and unique qualities, and what if I somehow chose wrong? What if my decision came between the three of them? Then again why can't I just have all three of them? They're all so kind to me, and they're funny, and so very gorgeous, and— "Oh gods, I'm in love," I gasp quietly, my hand cupping over my mouth at the devastating recognition.
Morrigan only nods with a wide grin, like she's been waiting for me to realize since we sat down in this booth. "What do I do?" Suddenly I don't know how to think, or how to act.
"Put them out of their misery and feed those poor bastards," She proposed and I groaned with defiance.
“I’ve been working so hard to ignore their pathetic acts for the last five months, I can’t just give in now.” I practically melt onto the table, my head falling into my arms dramatically.
“Hey, listen to me,” She grabs me by the face, smushing my cheeks as she emphasizes every word. “Do you want them to fuck you senseless?” She asks and I sigh, but inevitably nod with a pitying frown. “Then go." She releases my face and shoos me with her hands and I smile as I stand up. “You’re the best Morrigan,” I claim and she winks at me. “I know,” She shrugs and I blow her a kiss before winnowing to where the tether between the three men felt the strongest.
Which landed me in a cabin I'd never been in before, the sitting room warmed by the crackling fire in the hearth.
Whatever conversation the three males were having halted when I showed up. They all looked at me with analyzing eyes, raking up and down my figure, still in my party dress from Rita's, the material tight, hugging every curve and dip of my body and ending high on my thighs, showing off the entirety of my legs and an obscene amount of cleavage, which the males definitely didn't miss.
Cassian and Rhys were sat on a sofa in front of the fire, Azriel was situated in a large leather chair that he claimed like some sort of king, distanced from the fire I notice. All three of them had short crystal glasses, a matching decanter sat on the coffee table halfway filled with an amber liquid.
"Hey, sweetheart," Cassian was the first to speak. "What brings you here?" He hums and I clench my jaw. What was I doing here? Silently I whirl on my heel and walk towards the kitchen, finding a bowl of fruit situated on the counter. I grabbed an orange from the variety, taking my time to peel the rind off, the three of them staring at me curiously as I approached them again, splitting the pieces of the fruit into thirds, handing each of them a slice without a single word.
"Are oranges supposed to pair well with whiskey?" Rhys held the fruit up, staring at it confused as if the High Lord truly didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't seriously going to make me say it, was he?
"Eat," I demand but they only stare at me with blank eyes and I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "Whoever's orange is gone first I'll make out with," I say and within the blink of an eye all three of their slices of fruit were gone, but I caught Azriel swallowing first so I approach him and take the liberty of sliding over his lap.
He wastes no time before putting his hands on me and pulling me into him, his lips immediately finding mine.
I smile at the citrusy taste still ghosting his tongue as he pushes it into my mouth, tasting every inch he can find like a starved animal, craving more. My hand goes into his hair while his scarred ones slowly slip beneath my dress, gripping me tightly and pinning me down onto his hips, allowing me to feel just how hard he was beneath me.
Desperate, indeed.
"Az," I whine softly and he groans at the sound, his kisses turning sloppy as he loses himself entirely in the taste of me.
"Alright," Cassian's voice calls, familiar, large hands coming to my waist and pulling me off of Azriel's lap with ease, throwing me over a broad shoulder.
"Is this what it's going to be like mated to you three?" I say, still upside down as Cassian's hands roam the backs of my thighs, then higher. "Passed around between you three like some doll?" I say, secretly not minding the idea.
"If you don't want to be passed around," He tosses me down onto a large bed. "We can always share at once," He hums and I had an unshakable feeling that I would be split in half if I took all of them for the first time, at once.
"No, I like being passed around," I say with bright red cheeks and he smirks, guiding me up onto the bed, my head meeting the pillows.
"Then who do you want first?" He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
"Rhys," I look to the high lord. "I want Rhys," I say and the violet-eyed male raised a brow, his smirk uncontrollable as he approached the bedside. Cassian moved off of me and Rhys took his place over me, his lips finding mine with ease.
He kisses softly at first but that only last so long before he's leaving my mouth and beginning to nip and suck on my neck, licking over it to soothe the marks. I writhe beneath him, my hands in his dark hair as I ache for more. I reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt with one hand before moving to the ties confining his hardened bulge.
"No darling, you're going to ride me," He says breathily into my neck and my hand halts on his pants. He smirked at my reaction and flipped us over so I was on top. He unzips the back of my dress with ease, helps me slip it off with gentle hands as I straddle over his hips, now completely bare for all three of them, but it was only Rhys' eyes I was focused on at the moment.
I rut my hips down over the imprint in his pants, releasing a soft sigh as the action puts friction on my clit. He smiled up at me and how needy I was for him already.
He takes his pants the rest of the way off, his boxers along with it and I can't help but smile at the sight of him, his tip pulsing and red, and the length of him was intimidating enough on its own. "You think you're ready for me?" He asks, ripping my panties off with an ease I marveled at, but before I could reply to his question he swiped his fingers through my folds and my breath hitched at the stimulation, my arousal soaking his fingers, he pulls them back for me to see and I flush in embarrassment at how wet I already was.
"Oh, darling I've barely touched you," he smirks and I look away from his eyes, attempting to get my blush under control. "There's no need to be shy," He guides my face back to look at him. "Be good and take all of me, yeah?" He arches a dark brow and I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I rise on my knees while he helps align himself with my entrance.
He looks at me pointedly and I nod, then sink myself down onto him, ever so slowly.
"That's it," He grunts out as my cunt swallows around the head of his cock. He throws his head back into the pillows as I sink deeper, reaching the halfway point and clenching around him hard.
My nails scratched down his chest as the unfamiliar stretched, his eyes gleaming with pure lust until eventually my hips pressed against his and I let out a sinful moan as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves deep inside of me, kissing it softly.
"Rhys," I sigh, my nails digging into his abdomen as my cunt twitched around him. His hands come to my hips, slowly guiding me back and forth, manually making me grind on him.
"Fuck, taking me so well," He grits between his teeth, already restraining himself.
My back involuntarily arches as he kisses up against that sensitive spot again, moans tumbling from my lips as I begin to bounce myself up and down on his cock. He smiles hazily, his hands leaving my waist in favor of cupping my breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over my peaked nipples. My breath hitched at the sensation, clenching around him tighter as he groped them, tweaking them between his fingers, making my release barrel closer.
"So good for me, getting yourself off on my cock," He admires and I nod, a whimper slipping from my lips as I pull myself out to his tip then let gravity slam me back down onto him, the head of his length pounding into my sacred spot, making me release a lewd moan, screaming out his name as I clamp around the width of him, a ring of white forming around the base of his cock.
"Feels so, so good darling," He says breathlessly. "Such a good girl," He murmurs and I throw my head back at the praise.
"I'm close— Rhys, I can't," I pant out, unable to catch my breath with the way he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. "Me too, fuck— keep doing that," He grunted. "Keep squeezing me so tight, just like that," He instructs and I nod, my pussy taking all of him as he twitches deep inside of me, signaling that he was close.
I go faster, my thighs burning with the movement but I ignore the pain, delighting in the pleasure he was giving me. He pounds into me relentlessly, both of us teetering along that edge, and the moment his hands find my nipples again I'm left helpless, and suddenly I rise to my climax, coming to a crescendo as I meet my peak of pleasure.
I gasp as his warm cum seeps into my cunt, spurting out of his cock with one last clench of my core and he released a thick white liquid. "Gods, such a good girl," He sighs out, his large hands groping my breasts one last time before they dip down to my waist, and help guide me off of his length, laying me back into the bed.
"Cass," I murmured, keeping my legs together in order to hold Rhys' release inside of me. "Cassian, I want you next," I pant out, still not entirely over the high that Rhys left me with but I already wanted more, and lucky for me the male was there quickly, switching with Rhys as he hovers over me, his pants already absent and his cock leaking a milky substance, the sight making my mouth water. He was noticeably wider than Rhys, and I debated whether or not he'd tear me in two.
"Flip around, wanna feel your pretty pussy from behind," He hums and I do as he says, turning onto my stomach and hiking up onto my knees. His calloused hands find my hips, helping me guide them up higher, my back forming a perfect crescent as I keep my face in the pillows and maximize my arch.
"You ready for more sweetheart?" He asks and I nod, tears welling in my eyes as his heavy cock slaps against my soaking folds, my arousal dripping onto him as Rhys' release cascaded down my thighs. He lathers himself in my liquids, his pre-cum adding to the mixture.
"Want you, Cass," I murmur. "Don't hold back," I add and I can practically feel the way he was smirking. His tip prodding against my pulsing entrance.
"Tell me if it's too much alright?" He kisses my shoulder softly, his rough voice gentle as it meets my ear. I nod, but before any more words are spoken he grips my hips tighter and thrusts inside of me.
I gasp, breath being lost on me as I fist the sheets beneath me. "Cass," I cry out, the width of him stretching against my walls, molding me to him.
"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," He sighs out and I gripe, writhing beneath him as he pushes deeper and deeper, forcing my legs wider so he could enter more comfortably.
My breathing is labored as his hips finally snap against my ass. He groans at the feeling of his cock entirely sheathed inside of my cunt, stretching me beyond capacity like a sleeve made just for him.
"Please, Cass," I whine and he leans over me, my back bowing against his chest, his lips coming beside my ear.
"We only just started, sweetheart," He taunted, nipping at my shoulder.
Ever so slowly he pulls out, removing himself only about halfway before slamming back into me with an outmatched force. I screamed at the switch of pace, his thrusts coming quickly, pushing me up the bed.
I reached forward, gripping the headboard to stop my body from unconsciously running away from him. He drove his hips forward harshly, his balls slapping against my folds. His hands left my hips in favor of my ass, handling me roughly as I arched beneath him, feeling his width deeper the lower into the pillows I went.
"Good girl.” He throws his head back, sweat glistening as it rolls down his chest, into the groves of his abdomen. I mewl loudly, incapable of forming words as he fucks me beyond sentences.
"Such pretty noises you're making for me," He hums, his lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Am I making you feel good?" He whispers and I swallow thickly, tears brimming my eyes as I nod helplessly, defenseless under him like this. He smirks at my unsolicited actions as I grip around his shaft tighter, delighting in how good it feels as he stretches me.
His hands returned to the curve of my ass, gripping the plush skin in his large hands, loving the way it left red imprints, marking me as his, as theirs.
"Pull my hair," I murmur.
"What was that, pretty girl?" He leans over me and I flush shyly, I knew he heard me the first time.
"Pull my hair," I repeat and he smiles.
"Yeah? You want that?" He wraps his hand around my locks, gripping the back of my skull before tugging on it and I moan, my release catching up to me as he manhandles me, just how I wanted. His grip tightens as I squeeze around his cock, his heavy balls continuing to clap against my neglected folds. "That's it, baby, just like that," He assures, watching as I lose myself in the heat, fire blooming over my skin as my release barrels closer and closer.
"Please," Tears slip down my cheeks. "Let me cum, I’m close," I mewl, gripping the headboard tighter, my nails denting the wood.
"Already?" He teased and I nod, pushing myself back onto his cock and he grunts, twitching inside of me and brushing against my elastic walls. "Go ahead, make a mess sweetheart," He allows and I immediately follow his order, my orgasm ripping through me for the second time tonight, his following soon after, shooting his load of cum into me, filling my every crevice and mixing with Rhysand's inside of me.
I grip at the sheets as he pumps into me one last time and I clamp down on him, milking his cock as he slowly removes himself from me and collapses down onto the bed beside me.
My legs ache as I sink back down into the mattress, my intense high slowly fading away as I flip over onto my back.
I jolt as a cold sensation runs up my thighs, skidding across my waist and meeting my breasts, shadows swirling around the peaks of my nipples, slowly tightening and beginning to tweak the hardened buds.
"Az," I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't," I murmur, far too overstimulated to even think about taking another round.
"You can." He comes between my legs, shadows forming at my thighs and prying them open, forcing them to stay even when I try to close them. I can make out the way Cassian's cum seeps out of my cunt and down my ass, the feeling making my mouth water for Azriel's cum too, wanted all of their release to mix in my womb.
"There's so many things I've wanted to do to you," He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "Things I've imagined doing to you," He confesses, beginning to place soft pecks up the side of my neck, to my jaw. "Which one of us do you think of when you touch yourself?" He asks, his lips ghosting over mine and my brows bunch because it'd be a lie if I said I ever thought about just one of them.
"I asked you a question," He purrs, his hands coming to my wrists, gathering them up above my head. "Be a good girl and answer it for me." The tip of his nose runs along the side of my neck before his lips make contact with the side of my throat, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.
"All of you," I confess, pulling slightly at my wrists as he lets go but shadows have them pinned down too.
"Yeah? Do you like to imagine all three of us ruining all your pretty, wet holes at once?" He croons, his mouth just beside my ear and I writhe, unable to even grind against my own thighs since his shadows were holding me open, leaving me desperate and vulnerable for his own pleasure.
"Az," I whine.
"Tell me," He demands. "Tell me what you think about when your fingers are stuffed in your needy cunt," He hums and my brows crease at how humiliating this all was.
"I think about all three of you, fucking all my pretty holes," I confess and he smiles proudly.
"Yeah? Does that get you off?" He hums and I nod with a whimper, murmuring a pathetic, "Mhm."
His fingers are barely there as he drags them up my figure, then back down to my hips, keeping me restrained as I clench around nothing.
"I need you inside of me, please," I beg and he manically grins, kissing along my jaw, nipping at it as I continue to pull against his shadows.
"Such a needy little thing aren't you?" He taunts and I nod, agreeing with whatever he wants me to as long as he pushes himself inside of me. "Yeah? Don't worry baby, I'm going to ruin you." He said, his grip tightening on my hips as he pressed his tip to my entrance, and without another warning, pushed inside of me.
I screamed his name loudly at the intense feeling, he didn't waste time and he most definitely wasn't gentle like Rhys, or kind like Cassian, he was fucking me like an animal, and I loved every second of it.
Maybe it was because I was overstimulated but he felt so fucking long inside of me, and when his length was fully sheathed in my cunt I swore he was up against my cervix.
Shadows released my thighs for only a moment so that he could adjust my legs, pulling them up to my sides and putting me into a mating press.
"Gods, you're taking me so well," He admires, staring down at me with low-lidded eyes as I let him withdraw everything he wants from me, his cock nestled deep inside of me as I take him deeper and deeper while he fucked me into the mattress, unrelenting and so very stimulating.
"That's it, so fucking good," He throws his head back at the feeling of my puffy cunt squeezing around him torturously tight. "Gods, I'm going to fuck this wet pussy until you beg me to stop," He groans and I moan at his lewd words, and the sounds of his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs, his full balls smacking into my ass as he continued his rough pace.
He looks down at me, sweat lining my forehead and a permanent blush over my cheeks, tears running down the sides of my face as he uses me.
"You look so pretty tied up like this," He smirks, analyzing my every breath, as if needing to remember this for later.
My mouth is open, moans escaping the base of my throat with each of his thrusts, the head of his long cock kissing my cervix and I scream, my nails digging into my palms as I fight off my orgasm, feeling my encroaching climax grow closer and closer.
"Az—" I start, barely able to get his name out before I'm cut off by another moan. "I have to—" I can't even say it, tears blurring my vision as he continues to pummel into me and I deflect my third release. "You already have to cum baby?" He smirks down at me and I nod, so grateful he understood but my gratitude dwindled away with his next words. "You wanna cum? You think you've earned it?"
I nod fervently, my body aching at the position he had me stuck in. I convulse around the base thick of his cock, the back of my head buried in the pillows as I plead for my climax but he wasn't allowing it until he came too.
I force my legs open wider and he hits into me deeper, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.
"I can't Az," I plead. "I promise, I'll be a good girl just, let me cum," I say and he groans at how I sounded begging for my own release, the sounds of my moans pushing him closer to that edge.
"Alright baby, go ahead, come all over my cock," He commands and I obey without another thought, my release slamming into me hard, resulting in me shaking beneath him, my legs jolting as he slowly unpins them and lets me wrap my legs around his torso, riding out my high as he presses into my cervix and with one last harsh thrust he grunts and releases his seed into my womb, mixing it with Rhysand's and Cassian's.
My cunt is left red and swollen as he removes himself from my entrance, I close my legs as soon as he was gone, not letting any of their releases escape me, keeping it tucked inside. The mating bond affected me so much that I wanted to feel this fucked out all the time, have them fill me at every moment, drunk on their cocks.
"You did so well for us," Azriel hums, sinking into the bed beside me, my ass up against him as I flip onto my side and face Cassian, his lips finding mine, biting at my lower one while Rhys' hands fondle my oversensitive breasts. "Poor baby, she thinks we're done," Azriel hums, his cock hardening again, pressing to my ass.
"Please," I whimper but none of them stop their movements.
"It's time to take us all at once, darling," Rhys said and I gasped as I felt his hand cup my heat.
"You ready, sweetheart?" Cass asks and I can only nod helplessly.
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patscorner · 2 days
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write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶
yes ma'am 🫡
Always and Forever
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Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.
wc: 1,780
Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff
______________________________
For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.
There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.
Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.
But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.
Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.
You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.
You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.
Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.
Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.
Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.
“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.
You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.
“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”
The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.
“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.
Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.
“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”
The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.
“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.
Always and forever.
The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.
Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.
The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.
Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.
You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.
Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.
You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.
You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.
When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.
“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.
“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.
“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.
You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.
She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.
“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”
KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."
Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”
“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”
You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.
Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”
You shrug and smile. “You love it.”
She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”
After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.
“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”
The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.
“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.
“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.
“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.
“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”
You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.
Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.
You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.
Always and forever.
______________________________
taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris
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eatommo · 3 days
Text
Father Figure [j.m.]
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Summary: A shower and DBF Joel "pussy drunk" miller, no plot here. No outbreak/preoutbreak
A/N: Can be read as a stand alone but is a true sequel to Kisses of Fire. Heavily inspired by @absurdthirst and @wardenparker 's Marcus Moreno soulmates fic that I devoured in an all-nighter. Not beta'd all mistakes are my own
c.w: age gap, dub-con due to alcohol, showering together, pet names, oral sex (both recieving), pinv, creampie, food play (he drinks champagne off her pussy), overstimulation, service dom vibes, daddy kink and attached daddy issues, probably missed some lmk!
It wasn't fair. Joel had magic hands when it came to woodworking and tiling, hell you've even seen him work magic at a claw machine, but how was he better at washing your hair?  Every ounce of tension fell out of your muscles, and the cool water washes away the sweat and sticky traces from your thighs.  You keen into his fingertips, leaning back into the warmth of his body and letting yours rest against the plain of his chest.
He hums, and you feel the vibration of it echo in your own content noises, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy,  “Sweet little thing.” You blush, feeling a little shy, which should be ridiculous, but you feel as if he's doting on you, every bit of his attention is working out every knot of tension in your body that you didn't even know existed.  
He steps forward, urging your head back under the water as he washes the soap away with tender touches.  The smell of his soap in your hair is almost overwhelming, and you still feel the ache of being filled by him, by all accounts your brain should be returning to its rightful place right now but all you can think about is how skillfully and hungrily he consumed you.  
You felt dizzy, and the lingering traces of the alcohol were burning off. “I think I could go for another glass.”  You look at his eyes in earnest, hoping to see some sort of reflection of how your heart is swelling in your chest.  
“Already ahead of you baby, I put it and two glasses in the freezer for when you're finished.”  His words are warm, and comforting, as if sensing what you're craving from him.  
You crack a smile, standing on your toes to kiss the hollow of his throat and to your surprise, there's a strangled sound that comes from beneath your fingertips.  It's a groan.  Halting your movements, you stay there, hovering, and watch as he swallows harshly.  
Tauntingly you let the tip of your tongue trace up the column of his throat and he turns to iron in your grasp, “Mr. Miller.” you tsk, the shift in power bolstering each small syllable, “A weakness.” You run the flat of your teeth against his skin, and you feel a shutter rumble through his body in a subtle confirmation.
He tries to play it off, a small rumble of laughter as he runs conditioner through your hair with his fingertips, combing it through the ends of your hair. His cock is half hard just from feeling your mouth on his throat as it rests against your belly, water passing between the two of you as you finish up the dance of sharing his modest shower space. 
Your body should be tired, and admittedly your legs are weaker with each step but you couldn't be more aware of each passing lingering touch as his hands soothingly run up your back coaxing your body to follow and obey. 
By far the most beautiful thing in the room is Joel.  His chest is flush and glistening with droplets of water that fall from his clean, tousled hair and runs down his work-sculpted chest.  
He catches you staring and tilts your chin up to look into his deep brown eyes, “Like what you see baby?” he's being smart with you, and yet you can't find the words to form a retort.  His hand grips your jaw firmly, and he leans down for a kiss. 
His mouth is warm, his tongue languidly swiping across your teeth bringing an embarrassingly loud moan out of you as you enjoy the taste of him and the skimming brush of his thumb on your pulse that all but turns your bones to jelly.  You forget that he even asked you a question until he breaks the kiss with a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine.  “And to think I’m not even done with you yet.”  
He lets his hand move to the back of your head and buries his fingers in your hair and gives a gentle testing tug, you do your best to hold his gaze as he peers into your eyes, you let out a confirmational hum.  With a single glance, he communicates what you’ve wanted since he took his pants off, and he holds your head steady as you sink to your knees.  The tile is warm from the wash of the water, and he shields you from the shower head as you admire his massive semi-hard cock.
You rest your hands on your thighs, resisting the urge to start touching yourself as you kitten lick over a vein that catches your attention, you see the steady throb build as he gets harder beneath your tongue.  You suck the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly as it pulsates against your tongue and his hand tightens in your hair.  You suck more of him into your mouth, swirling around the head and swallowing around him, eager to please and be good for him.  
“That's my girl.” he coos, bringing his other hand to your cheek, caressing it gently but urging you to take more of him all the same.  God, you’re half convinced the man could talk you to an orgasm, his praise wraps around your body like a vise, luring you into a headspace you’ve only experienced tonight.
He jerks his hips, pitching them forward and deeper until he’s nudging the back of your throat.  Tears prick at your eyes, as your jaw begins to ache with the stretch, you find your hands drifting closer to the insistent twinge of your clit begging for his attention again.  The hair at the base of his cock is sparse but it tickles your nose as you reach your breaking point, coughing and sputtering around him.  You use the flat of your tongue to massage the underside of him while he fucks into your mouth.
He grunts as he keeps thrusting a few more times, you taste the salt of his precome on your tongue and he slides out and you gasp for air and swallow the excessive amount of drool pooled in your mouth.  The strings of spit connecting the two of you might just be one of the hottest things you've ever seen. He gives you a lopsided grin, swiping a thumb over your chin, “Messy, messy little girl.”  His voice is deep, hoarse with need and debauchery.  
The shower is off and he pulls you to your feet, wrapping you in a plush towel that's warmed from the steam-filled room.  He places a soft kiss on your forehead and you hum contentedly, recovering from the lack of oxygen and the dizzying weight of his cock in your mouth.  You lean against the cool counter of the sink, running his brush through your hair in an attempt to keep from staring at him, but he settles behind you and slides his cock against your ass as he pins you to the counter.
You can vaguely make out the shape of his body behind yours in the fogged surface of the mirror, mixing together with the beauty of a mosaic painting. He is standing tall as his dark hair falls to tickle your ear as he kisses along the curve of your shoulder.  His mouth is delicate, but the edge of the counter digs into your flesh, you're finding yourself hoping it bruises, as he continues to press his skin to yours.  
He lets a rough palm run from your belly between your breasts and uses it to tilt your head back, kissing the sensitive skin on your throat with a gravelly contemplative hum at your back.  “Go sit, I'll bring up something to drink, hungry?” 
His hand is heavy and calloused, sitting on your throat, the gesture is dominant, and you feel so small and so pliant under his grasp. But the warmth and tenderness between your legs doesn't argue, and your lips are still swollen from the stretch of him in your mouth. You feel a deep satisfaction, heavy like the possessive yet caring touch of his hand guiding your mouth along his shaft.  
“No,” You try and sound confident, but your voice is hoarse and you're beaming at him with a fucked stupid grin on your face, and it comes out a simple squeak.  
Joel smiles down at you softly, running his thumb along your jaw.  The adoration is plain on your face, unmistakable.  You’ve seen him with this look hundreds of times but there’s something about the moment and the intimacy of this, the low-revving engine of your lust that’s almost as palpable as the steam on the mirror.  
He never fails to make you feel special.  His mouth finds your forehead for a lingering but gentle kiss, a promise to return.  He leaves the room tying a towel around his waist, and you let your eyes linger on the flexing cords of muscles in his back as he shuts the door behind him.  
Doing your best to collect yourself, you run your hands through your hair and take a deep breath, using his surprisingly plush towel to tousle your hair as dry as you can manage, before draping it around yourself and securing it above your breast.  
His room is much cooler, but the heat beneath your skin is unstoppable and your body is still as alive as it was with his cock down your throat.  The bed is disheveled, you find a place among the scattered pillows and prop yourself upright, pulling a book off of his nightstand to skim over the description on the back.  
Soon you hear his footsteps on the stairs, he knocks gently on the door before nudging it open carrying two champagne flutes. He settles in next to you, and you saddle up next to him, pressing your hip to his, the urge to be close to him almost overwhelming.  
You take a sip, letting the sweet bubbly liquid settle in your mouth for a moment, washing away the salt of his skin.  You nuzzle your head on his shoulder in affection, feeling both spent and keen on finding out what's next. 
 His hair slicked back makes his deep brown puppy dog eyes even more dreamy as he beams down at you before taking a sip from the glass.  You stare at his hands and the delicate way the veins and tendons flex to hold onto the stem of the glass, swallowing around the lump in your throat.  
“Something I can give ya?” He notices, because of course he does.  You shift, throwing your legs over his lap, and taking another swig from your glass, determined to finish before you give in to your incessant need to be filled by him again.  
You hum, faking being contemplative, “I’m not sure, what else might you offer?”  Playing coy has worked before, but something in his eyes seems hungry, and it stirs something like fear in your belly.  
He holds your gaze, taking a long tauntingly slow sip even letting his tongue sneak out to tease the rim of the glass, “You have no idea baby.”
Instantly you're flooded with flashes of what he could possibly be alluding to, you imagine yourself pinned beneath him, straddling his face, even on your knees for him again.  You've never felt so incredibly giddy over a teasing phrase.  Hoping that there is a promise in his words, and that every little passing ache of potential is just a preview of what's to come. 
He sees it plain as day on your face, eyes glazing over and the curves of an insidious smile twisting your mouth into a lopsided grin.  He wishes he could read your mind, but he settles for running his hand across your abdomen, trailing over the sensitive and admittedly ticklish flesh just to feel you squirm beneath him.  
You take a sip from you glass in an attempt to still your voice before you speak, shifting your hips below his warm touch.  You know what you want, and he is just as privy to your needs, “Use your words, darling.” Another sip, and he presses his lips to the shell of your ear,  “Be sweet for me baby tell Daddy what you want.” 
“Your mouth, please Joel.”  you rush, too aware of your body’s reaction to his touch.  He pulls the towel free of your chest, and takes a nipple between two fingers and tugs until it's tight and you feel a hint of pained arousal. You whine correcting yourself, “Please, daddy.” 
He lets out a small groan, the sound enough to make your clit throb for his attention.  “Good girl.”  He moves between your legs fluidly, the final sip of alcohol stirring in the bottom of the glass as he settles, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed and settling on his knees.  He takes the towel you were wearing, gesturing for you to lift your hips as he arranges the towel beneath you.  
You let your head fall back against the sheets, expecting the warmth of his mouth.  Instead, you feel the ice-cold bubbles of his last champagne sip dribbling gently over your pussy, jumping at the cool sensation and the juxtaposition of his flat tongue swiping up the length of your sex.  He moans against you as the taste envelops his thoughts and he loses himself in the sweet taste of you.  He drags his tongue over your entrance, and swirls over your clit in long, practiced movements.  Every second that passed your body was tensing, building to yet another climax in such a short amount of time your legs start to shake.  
You almost miss the chuckle that escapes him, as he sucks harshly on your clit and your vision starts to ebb white, but he stops just a second short. “Did I make your little legs quiver?” You can’t find it in you to pick up your head off the bed.  
He laughs.
The sound is deep, and throaty, and you can feel it reverberate in your bones as he crawls over you, his face wet from his efforts. He wipes his chin on the back of his hand, his eyes bright and playful.
The slide of his thick cock is tantalizing, your brain is telling you to stop but the throb of him against you and the warmth of his breath against your neck is encouraging you to take him. To be his good little girl. 
His hips stutter as he buries himself inside you, your body giving a small jump when he bottoms out without warning. He groans loudly, pressing his forehead into the crook of your neck.
"Such a good little thing.." His words are slurred slightly, his mind drunk on lust and alcohol. He's so hard and thick and you can barely breathe. Your nails claw into the flesh of his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel the weight of him on top of you both overwhelming and comforting at the same time. 
Your eyes flutter shut, his praise and his cock lulling your brain into a blissful fog. Your cunt grips his shaft and he lets out a low hiss.
Joel moans, burying his face into your hair, his breath coming in short pants.  His thrusts are slow and deliberate, dragging the thick head of his cock across every inch of your walls.  He stays like that, pushing and pulling in and out of you. He fucks you with abandon, his pace quickening as he chases his own pleasure.
Your mind is fuzzy and your eyes are unfocused. You don't know if it's the alcohol, or the fact that Joel's cock is currently splitting you open, or maybe it's the fact that you just don't give a fuck anymore, but everything just seems so right.
It's as if he knows exactly what you're thinking.  "You feel so fucking good."  His fingers grip the sheets and the muscles in his forearms ripple as he fucks you.  
“Make yourself cum,” His thrusts are frantic, and his pace is practically begging you to comply.  Scrunching your face in concentration, a few little overstimulated whimpers earn you more words of encouragement.  “Cum all over me darlin.” 
It's the most you can do to hold on as the coil inside of you tightens impossibly. The friction of him sliding inside of you is too much and not enough all at the same time.  
He finds your chin and pinches it roughly, directing you to look into his eyes as he orders you to touch yourself. You do as you're told fingers snaking in between your bodies to find your swollen and abused clit.  He grins as he sees your eyes roll back in your head and you come with a shout, his name on your lips.
Joel’s body starts to shake as his words evolve into primal grunts and groans.  Your pussy is spent and the sweet smell of your release hangs in the air as he uses your limp body for his pleasure.  
He calls to you as he cums, praising your body and plunging as deep as he possibly can as his cock pulses and empties inside of you. The room spinning and your ears ringing, his body sags on top of yours, his forehead pressed to yours as you place an exhausted kiss to the small patch of skin in his beard you’ve always been fascinated with. 
You lay together catching your breath, your body slowly starting to feel the soreness between your legs and the dull throb of multiple orgasms that leaves your body feeling weightless and heavy at the same time. 
629 notes · View notes
nor-4 · 2 days
Text
The "B" word trend - Formula one and Reader
A/N: @23victoria when i saw her posts i immediately think of this one so thanks to her! Love her works sm
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⋆.˚ Max Verstappen
"Hey everyone, love say hi to the camera." You informed max as you touched his legs to catch his attention, "Hi guys" He waved into the camera throwing out a smile.
"So i saw this trend on tiktok.." You started talking while arranging your bag that is on your lap trying to distract you from nervousness, "Yes.." Max nodded as he turns to look at you.
"If i gave you the permission to say the B word, how would you call me?" You stated as you were looking out the window and back to him.
"What i always call you beautiful, what do you mean permission?" Max looked at you with his typical confused look, "No babe what. I meant by you know the curse word." You giggled as you lightly pushed his face away who was about an inch away from you.
"Oh that, i would never say that to you even you say that to me." He shrugged laughing too, "Called me once a bitchy whore for wearing my suit and an attitude." he faced the camera as if he is complaining to the viewers before ending the video.
⋆.˚ Logan Sargeant
"If i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him on ig live while eating beside him, "B word? Bookie? Bookie you look good and shit." Logan continued as he is looking for an answer on your reaction. He isn't fond to these kind of trends but he knows damn well what pookie and bookie is.
"You know bookie but you don't know the b word." You questioned him.
username11: Bye i didn't know this is how the trend is supposed to go
loganlover34: Logan chronically online confirmed?
⋆.˚ George Russell
"So if i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked george and oh boy he is ready as he already seen that trend earlier this morning.
"Okay it's something like this. Biiitch you look so fucking gorgeous or Bitch! You look so fucking gorgeous girl." George sassed waving out his fingers infront of you, "Aw you look like a little twink georgeyy." You stated pressing the e on the nickname as you know how much it cringe him off.
"Eugh, you are taking a piss." George pointed out at you with a disgust changing out his mood, til this day it still makes you laugh on how he acts like the videos of Paul and Morgan on tiktok.
⋆.˚ Lando Norris
: Babe, random thought. If i let you say the B word to me, how would you say it?
Lando reading the text out loud for the stream cause he couldn't show to everyone what contains you conversation. "Oh i think i know this one, It would be like. I love you bitch, ain't never gonna stop loving you bitch." He is saying what he is typing as his friends talk to the background.
Lando: It would be liek. I love you bich, ain't never gona stop loving you bicht.
: You are typing bich baby, that doesn't count.😭😭😭
"You are typing bich. Like bich, what the hell is that spelling right there. That's so british." He yelled at the mic reading out that one typo and ignoring the other.
⋆.˚ Carlos Sainz
"So would you call me the B word if i let you?" You asked facing the phone at him, he is very familiar of this kind of trend as the ferrari hospitality is flooding him with trends especially the "Watch carlos for a second" video.
"Bello. That's the b word i will call you." He smiled very proud of his answer, "Noo you know what b word I'm talking about carlos."
"Bebita, you know papa will kill me if he ever found out I'll call you something like that." It's true though Carlos senior already threatened him about saying things like that around you and to you. "But you know-"
"No. Bello that's the word." he cut you off.
⋆.˚ Daniel Ricciardo
"I already told you danny i wouldn't do anything if you say it." You have been laughing for solid straight 10 minutes now ever since you asked that question, "Bii... Honey i really can't say it." Daniel is like that one Noah and Lori video and that's why you are laughing because of the resemblance.
"Come on, do you want me to cheer for you?" You teased him as he has been jumping, walking, running or just doing anything other than saying the B word.
"Sorry i just couldn't bring myself to say it, okay i lost." He shrugged defeated before slumping down to your feet resting his head on your lap hugging your legs as if his life depends on it.
⋆.˚ Lewis Hamilton
"So how would you say the B word to me?" You have been asking the same question for fifteen times now as he is trying to avoid that question by changing the subject or asking something back at you.
"No i wouldn't say it it's either you will cry or you will be aroused." Lewis said before slumping down the sofa beside you and roscoe beside you.
"Lewis, what?"
"What, who said that?" him acting cool as he wrap his arm around you waist eventually reaching up to roscoe cuddling up the both of you as if you guys are the most fragile and comfortable thing ever in the world.
⋆.˚ Charles Leclerc
"If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked charles and yes it is a very easy question for him as cursingg at your significant others isn't a thing for him it will never be and he thinks that everyone thinks like that too.
"Hello beautiful." He answered before biting into his food, "That's sweet, but not that b word. The other one you know" You corrected him leaving out your food for a second for his reaction.
"Oh i didn't know you are into degrading when it comes to intimate stuff." Charles said before giggling like a teenager, "Cha you know that's not what i meant."
"Yeah but you are into it though"
⋆.˚ Fernando Alonso
Oh girl we didn't see that asking this on live is very bad idea. "If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him placing the phone infront of both of you.
"My belleza? It's the best b word, it fits you." Nando confidently said placing a hand on your back rubbing it, "No i mean by the bad b word." You cleared him.
"My bitch, doesn't sound good. I prefer my belleza more, it fits you well especially when you look under-" You slap Fernando's mouth before everything went down for you as how it is already, "We are on live you oldie." you joked before jokingly throwing his head away.
username3: Got that on screen record lmao
username4: Fernando you nasty girl😝
⋆.˚ Oscar Piastri
"Oscah if i gave you permission to say the B word to me, how much say it?" You asked out of nowhere which made him give you a stank eye once again, "You know you are the B word but i will never say it to you." He rolled his eyes before continuing to type on his phone for his twitter post.
"So if i am there's still a possibility you will say it?" You asked once again pretty same question cause we know you are not gonna let it go, "No, leave it now miss girl before i make you." you know what he means by that and because of that you wouldn't leave him alone.
⋆.˚ Zhou Guanyu
"babe if i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" The first thing you asked in the early morning after a tiring night, "Woman i know this is a trap stop it right now." Zhou finally learned with all these stupid question you asked after failing many times and completely losing his mind.
"I'm just a woman to you know?" You pouted before turning your back at him deciding to cuddle sweetcorn who is sleeping beside you, "Of course not love, you're my woman." he stated before sneaking his arms around your waist and petting sweetcorn.
⋆.˚ Pierre Gasly
"If i gave you permission to say the B word-" yeah he knows it another chronically online men.
"No baby." Pierre said shaking his head from side to side, "I didn't even finished." You raised your eyebrows looking at him as if you suspicion him of something.
"Did your other bitch ask you this question? Why do you know this trend?" You asked pierre as he turned his head at you as if you are going crazy or something, "Are you okay? Literally every post i upload on Instagram your face is there." he tried defending moving his arms in the air while talking.
"So you are getting tired of it?" You asked again feeding his frustration as he just look at you with mouth agape.
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ashwhowrites · 3 days
Note
Older Eddie finding out you’re pregnant and has hard emotions over it. He’s excited but nervous because of his age and reader overhears him saying he doesn’t know if he can be a dad and you choose the ending
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Baby talk
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Eddie had his dream of having a wife and kids, but it fizzled out the older he got. It never seemed to be in his cards and he found himself okay with that. He didn't feel like he was missing out on anything. He enjoyed his life the way it was.
He had been together with Y/N for about two years. He loved that she wasn't in a rush to be married. She was young and had many years before she felt like her time was cutting short.
Y/N knew Eddie didn't have a plan in mind for having kids, and it wasn't something they talked about too much. She knew at his age, that kids were the last thing on his mind. She'd be lucky to even get a ring on her finger.
As she looked at the five pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, she feared to tell Eddie the news.
"BABE?"
She jumped into action as she heard his voice. Scrambling to throw the tests into the trash can. She washed off her hands by the time he made it into the doorway.
"Just using the bathroom, what's up?" She asked, a fake smile plastered on her face
"Home from work and was thinking about ordering pizza?"
"Sounds good,"
Eddie nodded and walked out of the room to call the pizza place. YN looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the hell she was going to do.
~~~
It had been almost two months and she hadn't said a word. She dumped out the trash and tried to forget it.
But now she was sick every morning, and her emotions were all out of whack
She knew she needed to say something before she began to show. She was scared and she hated that it was her own secret. She had all this on her shoulders and needed to share the weight.
"You okay? You barely ate your dinner," Eddie said, he sat across her at the restaurant. Couples talking all around them but they sat in silence. He watched her as she slowly picked at her food. He knew something was going on. She always looked tired, he'd hear her cry all throughout the day and he spent every morning holding her hair back.
"Would you ever want kids?" She asked, finally looking up
Eddie coughed as he was caught off guard
"Um, I don't know. I guess if I'm being honest, I would live perfectly fine without them." He shrugged, "But if it was something you wanted, I'd make it work."
"Make it work?" Y/N scoffed, "What just suffer and stick around because you got trapped?"
Eddie blinked at her aggression
"I didn't say that" Eddie deflected, "I just think if it happened, it would take me a while to be good with that. I never saw myself as a dad and it would be a lot to learn."
"Would you be happy?" she asked, her stomach began to turn and she felt vomit in the back of her throat
"I don't know,"
"Well, figure it out within these next seven months." She said she watched as his eyes shot open and he looked down at her body and back up again
"You're pregnant?" He choked out
She bit her lip nervously as she nodded
"Dammit" Eddie whispered to himself as he sighed
"Dammit?" She snapped, "That is all you have to say!" She stood up and slammed down her napkin.
Eddie watched as she marched out of the restaurant. He quickly threw as much cash as he had on the table and followed after her.
~
The car ride was silent. Every word that left Eddie's lips was ignored. She had her arms crossed as hot anger tears rolled down her face.
Eddie pulled into his driveway and she was fast to get out of the car.
"Baby, can we please talk?" He asked once they made it through the front door
"Sleep on the couch, asshole." She spat as she yanked off her heels and walked down the hallway.
~
Y/N wasn't sure how long she stared at the wall in silence but she knew it had been a while
She closed her eyes when she heard the bedroom door open.
Eddie slowly lifted up the sheets and crawled into the bed
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you" he whispered, he wrapped his arms around her body and pressed her into his chest. "I was caught off guard and surprised. I thought we were always safe."
"Not safe enough," she snapped. She wanted to stay mad but his arms and lips kissing up and down her neck made her melt
"I'm going to be right here the whole time. You're not alone. We will do this together."
She rolled over, tears in her eyes as she tried to find his eyes in the dark
"Good because I am really scared," she cried
"It'll be okay." He soothed, leaned in, and pecked her lips
~~~
"Here is your beer, love," Y/N said as she placed the beer on the small table
It had been a crazy few months. She was now eight months and they were preparing for their baby to arrive.
"Thank you," he said as he pecked her cheek. Then turned his attention back to painting the wall
"I think this color looks great," Y/N smiled as she rubbed her bump. The light blue brightened up the nursery in the perfect way.
"I agree. The crib and changing table will be delivered tomorrow so Wayne will be over to help out. You just stay in bed and relax." Eddie said as he set down his paintbrush and grabbed his beer.
~
Y/N sat in her bed as she watched TV. Wayne and Eddie were down a few doors putting together the last few touches of the nursery.
She sighed as she grew restless, she needed to move. She climbed out of bed as fast as she could. Then walked out to the kitchen, she figured she could make lunch for the boys.
She finished the sandwiches and grabbed some beers. With her hands full, she walked to the room. But she stopped when she heard the two in a heated discussion.
"You are not walking out on her or that baby, Eddie," Wayne's voice was aggressive and stern. Y/N felt her heart drop at the thought.
"I didn't say that! I'm just fucking terrified. I'm too old to be starting over in my life. A newborn? That is a ton of work, and even more for someone who is as old as me." Eddie sighed
"I don't give a shit what age you are. Teenager, her age, or your age, doesn't matter, you are having a baby. I'm sure she's scared. And I'm sure she has been scared since she found out. She needs someone to count on, and you need to be that person. Having a kid will always be scary."
"I know! But what about when he starts school? I'm going to drop him off and be older than every dad there. I'll be a grandpa age by the time he gets into college. I don't know if I can be a dad."
"Edward quit making this about you! Who cares if you are older than the other dads. You've got an advantage. You've been working for years, probably a better income than they have. You have benefits that you can support her and your child with. You already made a fuss when she told you, don't make another scene." Wayne lectured
Eddie sat in silence and Y/N took the cue to walk in
"Lunch is served" she announced as she walked in. Acting like she didn't hear a single word.
"Thank you, dear," Wayne said as he pecked her head
"You didn't have to, you are supposed to be in bed," Eddie said as he pecked her cheek.
"I needed to move my legs," Y/N shrugged, "can I talk to you for a second?"
Eddie nodded and followed her into their bedroom
"Everything okay?" he asked as he softly touched her stomach
"Do you want to be a dad or not? Because it seemed like we figured it out and we were on the right track. And if you don't want him, you don't get me. I want this and I want us to be a family. But if you don't want that, be a man and tell me so I can figure out what I'm going to do for my child." She ranted, her arms crossed as she panted. She tried to keep her tears back.
Eddie sighed and sat on the bed. He grabbed her hand and moved her to stand between his legs. He released her hand to place both on her stomach and looked up at her
"He's our child. I am not walking away from you or him, and I never will. I know I'm all over the place, but I do want this. I'm worried about my age and how that might affect me being a good dad. I just don't want to let him down and I don't want you to regret having this magical moment with me and not someone who has a better grip on things." Eddie said
"Oh Eddie," she sighed then placed her hands on his cheeks. "You won't let him down. All you have to do is love and support him, which I know you can do. I don't want anyone else. I want this baby with you. I know you can do this. I believe in you." She leaned down and pecked his lips.
"I love you," he said against her lips
"I love you too"
And she was right. The second their baby was born, Eddie became the best dad she had ever seen. He adored Gavin, and Gavin was glued to his dad's hip. They were best friends and Y/N couldn't have been happier.
Eddie's fear never went away, but he treasured every moment he had with his family. He became a dad and he conquered it. Next, he was ready to conquer being a husband.
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norrisleclercf1 · 14 hours
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If you still wanted pregnancy requests could you do an Oscar one? Mafia oscar maybe where he's got a really blunt and harsh exterior but as soon as he sees reader he's a completely different person with major heart eyes!
A/N: I love writing for Oscar, I should write for him more
Oscar was always very stone faced, and it was very rare for his men to see him crack a smile, and when he did it was before pulling a gun out and killing a man, wiping the small blood drops off his suit.
It was well known that Oscar was married, but not many people have met his wife, his close allies, or friends like Logan and Lando had met the secretive wife of Oscar Piastri. Sometimes they could see a ghost of a smile when he had his phone out, but then he's turn stone cold again and be like that for the rest of the day.
"Sir, should I take you home?" The driver asks softly, looking in the rearview mirror. Oscar looks up from his phone, the ghost of a smile still there, "Yes," Oscar goes back to typing on his phone now ignoring the two men in the front.
---------------------
Smiling, you giggle as Oscar types how he can't wait to see you in his sweatshirt, but also how much he's missed you and the little one. "Daddy says he misses you," You whisper to your bump, rocking back on your heels, heels you can't even see over your bump, but you didn't care you were so happy and in love.
The front door opens and then closes, which has your smile grow more. Oscar steps into view, his hair casting over his eyes and you stare in awe at the way the suit is holding his neck, it almost looks painful, and you're suddenly aware of how you ended up pregnant 7 months ago.
"Care, you're already pregnant, sweetie," Oscar teases, which makes you blush and move hugging him as best as possible. Oscar chuckles, a gorgeous smile blooming on his face as he kisses you before ducking down and kissing your bump feeling a strong kick and chuckling.
"How was work today?" Oscar moves around and stands behind you, his hands hooking at the fingers, before gently lifting giving you such relief that you could cry. "It was horrible, but I'm better now," He kisses the back of your neck as you two close your eyes, before he slowly releases your stomach. "I love you," You smile, feeling your body warm at hearing those words. "I love you too,"
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heartcereql · 2 days
Text
heaven is a place on earth with you
art donaldson x fem!reader || soft moments in your fresh new home
cw: smoking, minor cursing, no use of y/n (1240 words) a/n: writing about my sweet baby art during finals bc why not
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you swore you could have stayed like this forever. tangled in silky bedsheets, soft rays of light that tingled on your face, body pressed against art's. one of those moments you wished you could pause and settle in for an eternity.
the mattress was on the floor, and cardboard boxed were scattered all around your apartment. your apartment. it felt blissful to say it. a life awaited you there, between the beige and baby blue walls that screamed for another hand of paint. it was far from the ideal, but it was perfect because it was yours. art's and your world. didn't it sound so pretty?
you looked over at him. eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his head a blond mess of curls and his skin warm despite the moring breeze that slipped inside the room through the opened balcony. art looked otherworldly. he always did, in your eyes. and you felt like the luckiest woman on earth with him, because he looked at you, because he touched you, because he loved you. because he felt for you what you felt with him.
and you two were fucking living together. the thought was enough to bloom a grin on your lips. a pure, joyful smile that made you want to jump and dance all around. pressing a feather-like kiss to his temple, you sat up, careful to untangle yourself from his arms and slinging over one of his standford t-shirts.
you reached over to your bedside table- well, the brown leather suitcase on which you had left some stuff. a provisional nightstand, let's leave it at that. you took a cigarette out of the box, holding it between your lips as you grabbed the lighter and your sketchbook and pencil.
the cool air of the early morning greeted you as you stepped out onto the balcony, goosebumps appearing all over your skin. you lit the cigarette with the pink lighter art had gifted you on your fourth date, all that time ago, when you mentioned you kept losing all your lighters. it was safe to say you'd kept this one. it had fake rhinestones forming your initial on one side. you recalled thanking art with a very excited hug and an even more excited peck.
"you made it?" you had ask him, the glint in your big eyes almost matching the glimmer of the rhinestones under the streetlamp. when art nodded, you gushed, hugging him again. "it's beautiful, art, i love it."
"i'm so glad," he smiled. you looked ethereal, all the eagerness painted on your face, cheeks rosy from the cold, babbling about how sweet you found it.
"hey, do you have any more rhinestones left?" you asked.
"yeah, yeah, here," he handed you the stickers, watching you start putting some more on the other side of the lighter. "what are you-"
but he was shut as he guessed the shape of his own initial, a very shimmering 'A'. once finished, you showed it to him proudly.
you both broke into laughter, cheeks flushed and hurting from the smiles, but it didn't matter. not when you felt so safe around him. and certainly not when he pulled you in for a kiss.
taking another drag of the cigarette, you traced your fingertips against the initials on the lighter. call it luck or fate or whatever, but none of the rhinestones had ever unstuck from where you both had originally placed them.
you sat on the beach chair that you'd placed on the balcony last night, before getting trapped between art's arms and lips, and getting lost in him. tipping the ashes off of the end of the cigarette, you opened the sketchbook. it was actually another of art's little thoughtful gifts that he loved to give you, and you loved to receive.
on the first page of it was a sweet little dedication art had written.
'for my angel girl, so you can be an artist and carry me always with you (get it? because i'm ART and you're an ARTist? so funny, i know.) love you forever baby <3'
it always made you smile when you read it, and reach over to kiss him for no apparent reason, leaving him a curious, flushed mess.
on the page you were currently at, there were some seashell doodles from your last trip to the beach. art had picked them out for you, and peered through the whole process with his head resting on your shoulder. beneath the collection of seashells was a watercolor drawing of art's beautiful, dual colored eyes, and a little sketch of a couple of figs.
looking over, your eyes settled on the pastel colored laundry your neighbors in front had hanging and swaying lightly with the dawning breeze.
your traces were fast but precise. soon, the laundry was replicated under your pencil. shirts and pants and socks and even a bra. the cigarette dangled from your lip, forgotten amidst your concentration.
you were so absorbed in drawing little daisies on the socks you didn't hear the sheets rustling as art stirred awake, or his soft footsteps as he approached you. thus, when you heard his voice, you were startled for a second.
"hey, artist."
you turned to him, eyes big. the movement was so sudden the cigarette fell to the floor.
"hey, art," you smiled, setting down the sketchbook and pencil and standing up to greet him.
his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you in for a kiss. you nuzzled your head onto the warmth of his chest, running your hands on his back.
"morning," you looked up to him. art smiled. god, that smile. it drove you crazy, made you weak at the knees. your soft fingertips drove up to trace his smile lines, trailing down to his jaw in no time.
he tucked some strand of hair behind your ears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "were you drawing?" art asked, spinning you around so you both faced the view, his arms around your waist.
the sky was not fully blue yet; pink and purple hues shining over the horizon.
"mhm," you hummed. "i want to colour it later, will you help me?"
"of course, baby," he mumbled, pressing kisses to your cheek.
it was something silly you two did sometimes. after pouring you both some coffee (you made it for art the way he liked, as he prepared yours as he'd learnt from several coffee dates), you'd pull out some colour pencils or sharpies and paint the little doodles you had drawn.
"hey," art whispered. "we live together."
you smiled. "yeah, we do. it's perfect."
art huffed at that. "the walls are on the verge of falling apart. and the people from the bar downstairs were noisy as fuck. and the shower-"
"shut up," you playfully hit his arm, rolling around again to face him once more. "it's you and i. sounds perfect to me."
he gifted you another smile. "you're right. it's ours. that's more than enough."
was this your own personal heaven? you found yourself thinking that often, as you got lost in his always tender eyes, or the sound of your laughters together, or the tingles he left on your skin, or the way you loved each other. as he lifted you up and carried you inside for your first breakfast at your place, you were sure of the answer. yeah, of fucking course it was.
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© heartcereql, 2024 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪
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nats--sw · 8 hours
Text
Gold chain (pt2) | Leah Williamson
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Leah, among other things, can be a bit of a distraction for your game… but just a bit. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: a short one for today,, thanks for all the love in the pt1 :( pt1 my masterlist
It had been three days since Leah had received the Instagram notification. Every morning, she took a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to text you or not. So far, you had liked her latest post, and Leah was hoping to return the gesture, but unfortunately for her you hadn't posted anything new since your picture holding the Roland Garros trophy. Not even a story she could react to. Nothing. 
“So... how's it going?” her mother asked that afternoon. Leah had gone to visit her, finding herself with more free time now that the season had ended, not much to do aside from the occasional interview and events, nothing too physically demanding for her.
“Well, I have an interview with the BBC in a couple of days, so that's keeping me busy” Leah said, pacing around the dining room, her eyes wandering over the photographs on one of her mother’s many shelves.
“I'm not talking about work. I'm talking about your girl!” Amanda shouted from the kitchen.
"Stop calling her that. I still can't believe you embarrassed me in front of her” Leah retorted. Just then, something over the fireplace caught her attention. 
Right in the center, where her picture holding up the Euro usually was, now stood a small transparent box. Inside was your autographed tennis ball. Leah picked up the box and couldn't help but smile at the sight of your signature, along with a smiley face.
“Hey, leave that there” her mother scolded as she entered the dining room with the two plates of food for dinner. 
“This should be mine, I'm her fan,” Leah said, fiddling with the box in her hand.
“Did you help Y/N win her trophy?” her mother retorted.
“Well, I got you there in the first place” Leah defended herself, placing the box back in its spot.
"Too bad that gift was given to me. If you want a ball, ask her for it." Amanda teased.
“You're my mother. You should be nicer to me.” Leah countered, taking a seat. 
"Yes, I am your mother, but I didn't raise a coward," Amanda said with a teasing smile. “Now eat”
Leah bit her lip nervously as she stared at her phone screen. The chat with you was open, and a picture of the autographed ball at her mother’s house was ready to be sent.
God, why was she so nervous? She had captained the England women's team to their first major title in history, yet now she was afraid to send a simple message.
“Screw it,” she muttered, hitting send.
“My mom won't let me touch the ball you gave her.”
Leah panicked as soon as the text was sent and quickly locked her phone. She glanced at her watch, it was past eleven o’clock at night, and she didn’t even know where in the world you were right now. The best thing to do was to go to bed and try not to think about the message. Maybe, if she was lucky, you would read it and respond in the morning. 
Within half an hour Leah was in bed, with her ipad in her lap, checking emails. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
She had tossed it onto the bed ten minutes ago, and now it was lost somewhere among the sheets and the pile of pillows she had. She rummaged around looking for the phone, but couldn't find it, that was until her foot got tangled in the sheets, causing her to tumble to the floor. That's when she saw her phone, on the edge of the bed, covered by a pillow.
Without bothering to get up from the floor, she grabbed the phone and smiled when she saw the notification: a message from you.
“Aww, I seriously thought she would give it to you.”
Would it be too intense if she responded immediately? 
Leah decided to go for it. “My mother is not that kind of mother,” she typed and sent the message, then relaxed as she saw you had immediately read it. The bubble with three dots appeared instantly, confirming you wanted to keep the conversation going.
"Ah, my mother is similar. I understand," you replied.
Leah was taken by surprise when the next message popped up.
“What are you doing at this hour?”
She realized she was still sprawled on the floor of her room. She got up, climbed back into bed, and opened the first streaming app she saw on her ipad, choosing an old movie she had been trying to watch for days. She took a picture, making sure to show only the ipad and part of the bed, then sent it to you.
“Watching something.”
Leah shook her head,feeling like a teenager sending things like that. It reminded her of what she used to do years ago. But she wanted to sound interesting to you. What would you think of her if you knew she was actually just checking emails and watching old football matches, trying to figure out if she could play like she used to?
"What about you? I don't even know what time zone you're in."
“I’m in Italy, just an hour difference :)”
“Italy?”
"Resting. Back to my workouts tomorrow."
"Oh, right. What’s next for you now? Berlin?"
This time Leah was surprised to see that your response was not a text, but a voice message. She hesitated before playing it, then hit the button and heard your voice.
“Wow look at you, you really are a fan,” you said in a teasing tone. Leah blushed immediately. She couldn't send you a voice message because she was sure she would get too nervous. Leah Williamson, the same woman who had spoken at the UN months ago, now felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.
She took a deep breath and replied:
“Of course I am. I’ve watched almost all your matches since Wimbledon last year. I told you I was your fan when I met you. My mother made sure to emphasize that too.”
“I just thought it was to flatter me if I'm being honest... Not that I'm that self-centered, but it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”
Leah could tell you were walking during the last voice message; there was background noise. You obviously weren't in a room.
“Where are you at this hour?”
The next thing Leah received was a photo of a couple of tennis courts. From the angle and the small table with a glass of water, she deduced that you were sitting a few feet away from the courts.
“I thought you were training from tomorrow?”
"On grass. The grass court season starts soon. Now I was just playing with my racket.” You explained in the message. Leah didn't have a chance to respond before receiving another voice message from you. "But it's getting late now, and I need to rest up for tomorrow's training session. Say hi to your mom for me please." 
"Of course, have a good rest," Leah replied, understanding the importance of proper rest for training sessions, especially during the season.
Days had flown by since that chat, and Leah was getting antsy. She was really hoping you'd reach out first this time, just to ease her mind that she wasn't bothering you. But as she sat at Alex's place,  enjoying a glass of wine over dinner before going out, she couldn't help but feel a bit silly constantly checking her phone for a message that never came.
As far as Leah knew you had already arrived in Berlin for the upcoming Open, not because you told her, but because she'd seen some snapshots of you during training sessions thanks to some tennis websites she followed.
Leah didn't know it, but your mind was fully consumed by the upcoming tournament with Wimbledon just around the corner. It was the topic of discussion throughout your entire day: grass, Berlin, Wimbledon, Leah no, wait, focus on that WTA ranking.
"Ready?" Lucas, your coach, asked, checking his watch. It was the last day before the tournament started.
"Huh?" You looked up, putting your phone down.
Lucas gave you a concerned look. "You okay? You've seemed kinda spaced out for a few days now."
You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."
"Is something up? You look kinda off," Lucas took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his expression. “You're not hiding some injury from me?"
"It's nothing. I'm fine, just tired” you lied, standing up and glancing at your phone once more. Lucas caught your glance.
"Don't tell me there's a girl," he said, rubbing his temples.
"What?! No! Of course not!"
"God, I knew it. It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw you chatting with her at the hotel."
"That was a waitress, Lucas. I'm serious, there's no one," you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. "I've got my priorities straight."
"Good. What you have to worry about now is Berlin. Remember, Wimbledon's around the corner" said Lucas, standing up and grabbing his bag. "If you want, after that tournament, you can sleep with whoever you want, Italian or not. But for now, you must keep your eyes on the grass. Okay?"
"Okay"
The next morning, as you sat down for breakfast, Leah's face caught your eye while scrolling through your Instagram feed. She had posted some photos, seemingly from a night out. 
It struck you how you hadn't come across Leah until the Roland Garros final; she seemed like an incredible person. You had even done a quick Google search when you first started following her on Instagram, impressed by her contributions to her sport back home.
It wasn't your fault that your family never showed much interest in football, so it wasn't surprising that you couldn't recognize any of the people beside Leah in those pictures. In the final photo, Leah was wearing a top that exposed her abdomen, wow, with a hand from someone you didn't recognize resting on her waist.
“Hmm?” You quickly tapped on the tag on the other woman's body. Her Instagram profile revealed that she was a football player too. Leah was in many of her photos, often seen next to her or hugging her. 
“Hey, Y/N” Lucas intervened, taking the phone from your hand and turning off the screen. “I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, your match starts in an hour.”
You nodded your head. Lucas didn't seem to notice the tension in your jaw, you tended to be serious before matches, so it wasn't unusual.
As you warmed up on the court, your mind couldn't shake the thoughts about Leah.
"Who was that other woman?"
"It doesn't matter. Leah is just a fan, maybe a friend, not someone you're going to marry."
"Exactly. Whether she has a partner or not shouldn't affect anything."
"But I couldn't help but find her cute."
"She's undeniably beautiful."
"Focus on Wimbledon."
Despite the game starting, your mind continued its internal debate.
Your opponent secured the first game at 40-0. Now it was your turn to serve. Just as you tossed the ball into the air, a nagging thought intruded again.
“Does she have a girlfriend?”
The ball hit the net. An irritated sigh escaped your mouth, knowing you had to make this serve count, aiming to avoid a double fault.
Shaking off the distracting thought, you prepared for another attempt. Gazing ahead, you focused on your opponent's movements, determined to regain control of the match.
"Her mother played matchmaker when we met," you mumbled to yourself, the distraction causing you to miss the hit once more. This time, it sailed over the net but landed wide, giving your opponent an unexpected point.
Even your opponent seemed surprised by the unforced error you just made, giving her a point without any effort on her part.
"I need to find out who she is," you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure with each lost point.
Your serve had enough power behind it this time, but your return lacked precision, sending the ball flying into the stands. As the ball sailed out, your opponent glanced at you in disbelief, clearly surprised by the unforced error you had just made.
"Wälti, that was her name," you murmured to yourself, the name lingering in your mind like a persistent echo. 
With the score now at 40-15, your opponent was on the verge of breaking your serve.
You needed to get rid of the doubt, but you couldn't leave the game, you weren't that crazy. But you could do something else, win the game in record time. Focus on winning to satisfy your curiosity and anxiety. You adjusted the gold chain that hung around your neck and took a deep breath. You had to hurry.
The match ended 0-2, with you taking the sets at 2-6 and 1-6. Your best result on grass.
"Where'd that come from?" Lucas asked once you were alone. "Since when is your backhand so killer on grass?" he wondered. "I've never seen you pull off moves like that on grass."
"Just got inspired," you said, tossing your visor aside and slumping into the chair. "Can I have my phone now?" Lucas hadn't given it back to you yet, not as a punishment, but because you'd asked him to keep it. 
Lucas handed it over, eyeing you. "You're keeping something from me," he noted, scratching his beard. "But if it's what's making you play like a champ, I'm all for it," he said, grinning.
You brushed off your coach's voice, fingers darting to your Instagram. With a few taps, you found Leah's chat, eager to shoot her a message.
"Heyyy! How was your night?" you typed, your leg bouncing with impatience. Though you needed to hit the shower, the excitement of hearing from Leah consumed you.
"Hope you're not feeling too rough today; starting the week hungover would be nasty," you added, fingers hovering over the screen in anticipation. But as the moments passed, there was still no response from Leah, leaving you hanging in suspense.
A cold shower seemed like the perfect remedy to clear your mind, and thankfully, it did the trick. Lucas egging you on for extra drills, especially to fine-tune your backhand, also helped to distract you.
By dinner, any hope of hearing back from Leah had evaporated. You were so disinterested that you didn't even bother bringing your phone along. It wasn't until nearly ten, when you reached for your phone to set the alarm, that you noticed Leah's message—a voice message.
"Hey, fancy hearing from you!" Leah's voice chimed in, carrying that distinctive lilt that hinted at a potential afternoon spent dozing off. You could practically imagine her, wrapped up in blankets, nursing a post-party hangover. "Yeah, went out with some friends. We were celebrating the end of my mate's long-distance thing. Was fun, until they started getting all soppy, reminding me I'm the last single one in the group."
A groan slipped out before she continued, "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed with a sheepish chuckle.
Those messages had been sent around 4 pm, while you were deep into your training session.
The rest of the voice messages were sent after 7 pm.
"What the heck was up with your game today?!" came the first, followed by a chuckle "Just watched the highlights of your match. Seriously, what did that poor player do to deserve such a thrashing from you? She ain't an ex, is she?"
Then, a last voice message added, "Sorry if that sounded a bit too nosy. Just curious, you know?"
You chuckled, enjoying the sound of Leah's accent. It had this magical way of making you grin like an idiot, even when you were just staring at your phone screen.
But now, what really mattered was Leah's relationship status, she was single, confirmed without even having to pry. Knowing she was single now seemed like a game-changer. Suddenly, that whole thing with Wälti didn't matter anymore, Leah's path was crystal clear. Not that you were planning to make any moves to win her over; that was definitely not on your agenda, at least not for now.
“Remember, Wimbledon”
Oh… the other thing that hit you: Leah truly proved herself to be your fan. It blew your mind that someone recovering from a hangover would bother to watch highlights of your match just to chat about it later. She was the first person to do that, apart from your coach or family.
"Hey, I'm free tomorrow, at least from the matches. What do you think if I call you tomorrow?" you typed, feeling a rush of anticipation mingled with nerves as you crawled into bed.
Before closing your eyes, you couldn't resist checking your phone one last time. And there it was, Leah's response: "Sure, call me anytime tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."
With a grin stretching across your face, you drifted into the most peaceful sleep you've had in ages, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement settling deep within you.
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shipmanisms · 2 days
Text
experimenting with bsf!paige 🎀
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“have you ever kissed a girl?” was what seemed like an innocent question, nothing weird, just your ( totally drop dead gorgeous ) best friend ( who you'd makeout with in a heartbeat if you weren't best friends ) asking you a simple question.
until it wasn't, when the weight of the question really hit you.
“um, no? i'm, i'm straight?.. yeah, i'm straight, why?” you asked while rubbing the sweat off of your palms on your jeans anxiously, your voice shaking slightly.
paige chuckled and smirked as she noticed your nervous moves and the tremble of your voice. “nothing ma, just wondering bout something..” she said with a husky voice, glancing at you before continuing. “would you ever wanna kiss one?” she smirked once again, shifting and getting a bit closer to you.
your breath hitched and you gulped loudly, making paige giggle a bit. “i-i haven't really thought about it, ya know but uh.. i guess i'd like to try it sometime?” you continued talking with a shaky yet more stable than before voice, you were pretty sure you had your anxiety under control.
“wanna try?” the question proved you completely wrong. you felt like you were gonna throw up from anxiety, your mouth agape a bit, your lips and hands shaking as you tried to come up with a response. “with uh, with, with who?” you managed to say, sweat starting to cover the back of your neck.
paige licked her lips with that stupid fucking smirk she always wore and you always wanted to slap from her face. “with me, i mean, we're best friends, if you want to try it with someome, who's better than your best friend that you know you can trust, hm?” she spoke, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a knife.
her words sounded pretty logic if you were being honest yourself. you wanted to try, so you'd try it with your best friend. “s-su-sureee?” you said awkwardly, dragging the e at the end while you gritted your teeth and cursed yourself from the inside for stuttering. you had to say yes as soon as possible before you chickened out and said no.
you swear you've never seen your best friend happier before. a bright smile on her face as she patted the empty space next to her on the bed, signalling for you to scoot closer, and you did, your hands clutching the bedsheets nervously. “so, um, how do we do this?” you felt your confidence growing a bit as you saw her usual silly smile, making you remember that she's just your best friend.
“just go with the flow, mkay?” she said quietly as she put one of her hands on your cheek, caressing it with her thumb, as she leaned closer, and smirked yet again. “got ya all nervous, huh babe?” she teased and let out a deep chuckle before leaning in, closing the distance between your lips.
you hastily pulled your hands away from the bedsheets, putting them in your lap as you didn't know where to place them. paige chuckled against your lips and took your hands, putting them on her shoulders while one of her hands was on your cheek and the other on your waist, pulling you closer
finding more comfort in the position you were in, you kissed her back, your plush lips interlocked with hers. you felt her squeeze your waist as you leaned your head to the side to deepen the kiss, her teeth grazing your lips teasingly, making you whimper and grasp her shirt a bit, pulling her again even closer.
“p...” you muttered as she pulled back and then immediately crashed her lips on yours again, her tongue playing with yours as she smirked,her hand reaching under your shirt, caressing the bare skin.
“ya like it baby?” you heard her deep voice mutter against your lips and subconsciously nodded quickly.
you were so damned.
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vbecker10 · 3 days
Text
Trust Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship
Summary: You and Loki have been dating for a year and a half and you moved into his apartment in the Tower last month when your apartment's lease was up. Since you've moved in, Loki has been coming home late more and more often. You fear he is cheating on you like your exes did, you finally break down and confront him. He admits has been keeping a secret from you but it's not what you expected.
Warning: Angst of course, being cheated on in previous relationships (briefly mentioned), fear of being cheated on again, lack of trust, arguing, negative thoughts, Loki being a little stupid
A/N: Ok... tiny spoiler but there is a super fluffy ending 💚 I know it's kinda long but I just didn't feel like making this a two-parter
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You have just finished cooking dinner and begin to set the table when you catch a glimpse of the clock on the stove. You feel a growing sense of disappointment, Loki should be home already. Sitting alone at the table, you look at the food for a few minutes until your phone vibrates causing your heart to sink. Without even checking, you know what the text will say.
<Darling, I'm so sorry I need to finish something for Stark. I'll be home late, don't wait up.>
You frown and scroll back up to the previous messages in the chat. Loki had sent you similar texts twice and you've only lived with him for six days.
<Okay. I made you dinner, it'll be in the fridge. Love you>
He replies quickly.
<I love you too>
You instantly lose your appetite and decide to put all of the food away. It is hard not to feel as if Loki is avoiding you. In the year and a half you've been dating, he only worked late a handful of times and it was never several days in a row.
What are the odds that his work load has suddenly increased now that I am living with him? you think as you fill with anxiety. No, Loki loves me, you try to reassure yourself. He would never lie to me, if he says he is working, he is working.
You get another text from Loki as you close the fridge.
<I forgot to tell you, I picked up all of the very specific snacks you requested. I am looking forward to spending the weekend with my arms wrapped around you while we watch that absolutely absurd show you love so much>
You smile, your worries fading quickly as you text him back.
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You change the channel again but you are barely watching the TV. You've had an unusually long and stressful day and you really need to cuddle with Loki but something tells you he is not coming home just yet. Almost as soon as you think it, your phone vibrates and you sigh.
<I'm sorry love, I'll be home late again. Don't wait up>
<K>
You text back the single letter, unsure if Loki can tell the subtle difference between 'okay' and 'k' but you just don't have the energy to fake being fine at the moment.
Two minutes later Loki responds.
<I love you>
You swipe the message away without replying, putting your phone in your pocket. You turn off the TV and decide you're done for the night, you can't bare the thought of eating alone for the third time this week. Without eating, you take a shower to try and wash off the day then crawl into the large, empty bed.
Once you are under the covers in the dark, your thoughts begin to race. Why does Loki never seem to want to come home to me? Does he really have that much work to do or is it an excuse? What if he is tired of being around me? We only just started living together but it feels like he is just trying to avoid spending time with me. What could he possibly be doing until midnight three or four nights a week?
No, not what... who is he doing, the little voice in the back of your mind pushes through. He's cheating on me, I've just been too blind to see it.
But Loki said he would never betray my trust like that, he promised, you counter but your negative thoughts quickly return. My previous boyfriends all seemed honest too, until they hurt me.
There are other signs I've been ignoring, you allow yourself to think. The calls, the texts, you wipe away your tears and cling to his pillow. You had gone into your bedroom two weeks ago and Loki was sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone. He told you he was checking the weather app before you left for the park but the answer didn't feel right. You had nothing to hide and would often let him use your phone without question but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking for something. One thing you learned from your first boyfriend was that if someone started snooping around, it was because they were hiding something of their own.
Soon after that, Loki began getting texts that he didn't respond to or he would leave the room to answer a phone call. He always insisted it was Steve, Tony or Thor and that it had to do with work but you found it harder and harder to believe him.
He probably didn't even really want me to move in with him, your mind switches tracks suddenly. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he asked me to move in was because I had complained that my lease was running out and he was tired of hearing about it.
That's not true, you try to correct your thoughts. Of course Loki wants me here. You remember what he told you when he was helping you pack.
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Your memory of Loki is quickly pushed aside by your memory of crappy ex number two. You had moved in with him just after college when you both realized you couldn't afford to live in NYC on your own. You had only been together a few months before you signed the lease on a one bedroom and it was just two weeks later when he began working later and later. It turns out, what he really wanted was a roommate with benefits and to still see other woman.
"That's everything," you said, looking around your empty bedroom. You had a gnawing feeling, even then, that Loki would grow tired of you and cheat. You wondered if you were setting yourself up for another heartbreak and Loki seemed to sense your anxiousness.
He took your hand in his and kissed it lightly, making you smile. Then he said, "Darling, I know the timing seems convenient but I have been wanting to ask you to live with me for some time. I know you prefer to take things slowly but I would have asked you to move in with me a year ago if I thought you would have agreed."
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I can't keep denying this, you roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your cheeks. Loki is cheating on me. The only question is did this start after I moved in or has he been doing it the whole time?
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A few hours later Loki walks into the apartment completely exhausted, all he can think about is crawling into bed with you. He hates how late his project is keeping him, he misses you tremendously and needs to feel you in his arms. Loki is overwhelmingly concerned by your response, or lack there of, to his texts tonight. You had never not told him you loved him and it made him nervous.
He pauses in the dark when he is just outside your bedroom and realized he can hear you crying. His heart aches at the sound and he turns on the light when he enters the room. You roll over away from him, clutching his pillow tightly.
"Y/N, are you okay?" he asks. You are silent, unable to answer his question. He crawls onto the bed next to you over the covers. You squeeze your eyes shut, hating how safe his actions make you feel, his chest flush to your back and his strong arms around you. "Darling, please tell me what's wrong," he urges gently.
"You're cheating on me," you state through your tears.
"No," he pulls back in surprise, "No, Y/N, you know I would never do that to you."
You shake your head, "You never come home."
"I'm sorry, I'm working on something-" he tries to explain but you cut him off.
"Who is she?" you ask sitting up. He moves to sit up and face you.
"Love please, I'm not-," he again tries to deny he is cheating but you don't let him speak.
"I know you aren't working this late, you never worked long hours before I moved in," you tell him as you wipe away your tears angrily. "Just tell me who she is unless... unless there's not just one other woman." Memories of your third ex-boyfriend flash through your mind, he had cheated on you with five women that you knew of but you were sure there had been others.
"There is no one else. I swear on everything in the nine realms I have been nothing but faithful to you," he promises quickly.
Your heart desperately wants to believe him. You love him so fiercely, more than you ever thought possible especially after you had been hurt so horribly in the past. Your mind, however, is convinced that you can't trust him and you shouldn't have let yourself fall for him. You know it will destroy you to leave him but you can't remain with him if the trust is gone.
"Look at me," he says, touching your cheek lightly. "I have never and would never cheat on you. I know you don't believe me right now and I understand you have been hurt in the past but I love you and I respect you too much to ever treat you the way those pathetic excuses for men ever did."
You sniffle and he says, "It's late, come with me tomorrow morning. I will show you what I have been working on. I will show you that you can trust me."
You nod in agreement although you are unsure how he can prove to you he has been faithful. He wipes your tears gently. "Don't," you whisper, pulling away from him when he moves to kiss your cheek.
"Would you prefer if I sleep in the living room tonight?" he asks. His chest hurts even as the words leave his mouth but he knows if he pushes too hard, you will retreat further away from him.
You nod again, unable to trust yourself to speak. You want to tell him to stay, to comfort you but how can he if he's the one who caused you this pain.
"Okay," he says quietly. He hates knowing he hurt through his actions. He tucks you back under the covers and runs his fingers through your hair slowly in the hopes that you will relax even the slightest bit.
"I'm so sorry I've made you feel this way, this was not what I wanted," he says softly. "I was planning something for you and I didn't have time to work on it during the day. I should have thought about how you would feel when I didn't come home but I need you to know that coming home to you has always been the best part of my day."
"I love you," he kisses the top of your head and you feel him get out of the bed. He turns off the light but waits a few seconds before leaving, hoping you will change your mind and allow him to stay with you. As soon as he closes the bedroom door you begin sobbing again.
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Loki paces angrily back and forth in the living room. How could I have been so stupid, how could I have missed how upset you were? he thinks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He never intended to hurt you, he had become so distracted trying to make sure everything went perfectly to plan that he let the most important person in his life slip through his fingers. He sits heavily on the couch, wishing morning would come quickly.
He lays down after a few minutes, his hand over his eyes and remembers the day he first asked you on a date.
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"No, Loki, I'm sorry," you told him while you were sitting together in the park. You slowly removed your hand from his and shifted away on the bench.
A few days later, the two of you were cooking dinner in his apartment and you asked him if you could explain why you had told him no.
Loki was almost too shocked and hurt by your rejection to respond. You had been doing date-like activities for almost a month and he had finally decided to ask you out officially. After a long moment he said, "I understand. I'm sorry, I must have misread things between us. I thought..." he shook his head, his words dying off. "Friends then," he looked up at you and smiled.
"Of course," he answered, a part of him hoping there was still a chance, however small, that you would change your mind.
You sat with him at the dining table and said, "There are two types of people when it comes to trust. You're the first type, you trust with your whole heart unconditionally. Once someone breaks your trust, however, it is gone forever."
He nodded in agreement knowing he had trusted his father without question but once he found out the truth, it was gone and could never be restored.
You continue, "I'm the second type, I don't trust anyone when I first meet them. I can't help but assume everyone is lying or unfaithful or willing to hurt me until they prove otherwise. I wasn't always like this but all three of my previous boyfriends cheated on me so now I almost feel like I've lost the ability to trust anyone. It was why I have so few friends."
After another hour of telling Loki what they had done, he promised to find your exes and make them suffer for how they treated you. You laughed in response, telling him that they weren't worth him getting in trouble but you secretly loved how protective he was of you.
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You roll over again, unable to get comfortable without Loki next to you. You close your eyes tight and try to force yourself to sleep but it seems impossible. I don't understand why he would do this, you think. He had tried for so long to earn my trust and convince me to be with him. Why would he throw it all away?
Three months later you were sitting on Loki's couch together, the same one he is trying to sleep on now. His arm was around your shoulder and you were leaning comfortably against him. Your mind wandered since you had seen the movie before and after replaying the last few weeks in your mind you realized something.
From the day you told Loki no, he had been nothing but patient with you, being the friend you needed. You continued to go to museums, parks, movies, from the outside it appeared as if it were dating but Loki never pushed you. He would hold your hand as often as he could and you discovered he gave fantastic hugs but he never went in for a kiss or asked you out again although you could sometimes tell he wanted to.
"Loki, ask me again," you said out of seemingly nowhere.
"Ask you what darling?" he laughed as he paused the movie.
"Ask me on a date," you smiled nervously. "That is, if you still want to date me."
His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his lips. "Y/N, would you go on a date with me tomorrow?" he asked, holding your hand.
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"Yes," you answered and he kissed your cheek causing you to blush. He promised you that he would never make you regret giving him this chance.
There is a light knock on the door and Loki opens it slowly. "Good morning darling," he forces a smile and you can tell by the redness in his eyes he slept probably as well as you did. "I know it is early, but I need you to come with me. I can't bear the thought of you thinking I've cheated on you for a moment longer."
He stops in front of the last door in the hall and he clears his throat. "It isn't finished yet," he says before he opens the door. "I was hoping to have it ready for your birthday next month."
You both get ready in silence and leave the apartment. He walks next to you and you can tell he wants to reach for your hand but you keep your arms crossed against your chest. You step into the elevator first and Loki pushes the button for one of the highest floors in the Tower. You have never been to that floor and are honestly not sure what is up there. When you arrive, he leads you down the empty hallway without a word.
"My birthday?" you ask confused.
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He nods, "You were right, I have been lying to you and hiding something but I never meant to make you feel as if I was trying to hurt you. I was a fool for not realizing this was a horrible idea."
Loki opens the door and the lights turn on as you follow him inside. You freeze, your hand covering your mouth.
"It's almost an exact replica of the Great Hall in the palace," he says looking at the high ceiling. He looks back at you, "You told me you wanted to see Asgard and this is as close as I could get to making that happen for you."
"Loki-" you can barely speak as your eyes try to take in the room.
Your heart fills with love but also pain and guilt that you hadn't been able to trust Loki the way he deserved. You slowly move through the space and you are blown away by the tall marble columns, stained glass windows and gold accents all around you.
"The calls and texts were to your friends and family," he explains. "I needed to go through your phone for their numbers. When we were at Scott's party last year, you said you had never had a surprise party so..." he shrugs. "I tried."
"I'm so sorry," you tell him, putting your arms around him but he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, I thought you would like it," he says utterly defeated.
"I do," you tell him earnestly. "Loki this is amazing, you are amazing. I can't believe you did all of this for me. I don't deserve this."
"You deserve the world Y/N," he tells you, his fingers wiping away the tears you didn't realize had fallen.
"I gave you plenty of reasons," he corrects you gently. "I can see how... sketchy my behavior was. I just wish you told me your fears sooner, before they consumed you so completely. I would never be able to forgive myself if you left me because I did something stupid. "
You hug Loki tighter, resting your cheek on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair. "No I don't," you tell him. "I didn't even try to believe you. I compared you to all of my exes and I assumed you were just like them even though you have never given me a reason to mistrust you."
"A lot of magic, that's why it is taking so long. It is draining to build the type of illusion that can withstand being touched and will remain even when I am not here," he explains.
"This isn't stupid, this really is amazing. I love it," you look up at the painted ceiling again. "I love you."
He smiles, "I love you too."
"How did you even do all of this?" you ask, looking around again in awe.
"It's why your always tired when you do finally come home?" you ask.
"Yes," he tilts your chin up. "But you are worth it." He leans down and kisses you.
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The night of your 'surprise' party Loki walks into your bedroom with a beautiful deep emerald green dress. He smiles at your reaction and says, "This is my first gift of the night for my queen."
You finish getting ready and meet him in the living room. He stands from the couch, his eyes fixed on you. "You truly are a goddess," he says as he walks over to you. He puts his hands on your waist and you put your arms over his shoulders.
You blush at the compliment and joke, "You look half decent I guess." He laughs, both of you knowing full well how much you love when he wears a suit. Tonight he chose his black suit with a green dress shirt to match you and black tie. He leans down to kiss you and you find it impossible to let him go but he eventually breaks the kiss.
"Loki, you've done too much already," you can barely contain how happy and loved he makes you feel.
"You can only be so late to your own party," he smirks and you agree. Taking his hand, you walk towards the door but he stops you. "Wait, I think you are missing something," he says as he conjures a long, thin velvet box. "A second gift for my love."
"You deserve every bit of it," he says as he opens the box to reveal a gold necklace with a small resin pendant. You notice a tiny flower in the center when he places it around your neck from behind. "It's a freesia, the flower. They are often thought of as a symbol of trust and I want you to have this, to know you can trust me completely as I trust you."
He puts his arms around you and pulls you close. "You didn't ruin anything, please stop apologizing. And for the record, according to every single person on the team, I am the annoying one in this relationship, not you."
You fight to hold back tears and say, "I'm sorry I almost ruined everything. I can't imagine how annoying I must have been, constantly reminding you that I didn't trust you and comparing you to my exes."
You laugh and look up at him, "That's just cause they don't like you as much as they like me."
He smiles, "At least you like me."
You shake your head no and giggle. "I love you," you tell him then you reach up and kiss him.
He strokes your cheek softly, "That is all that matters to me."
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Loki smiles at you before opening the door and the lights turn on. Everyone yells surprise as you step into the space and there is no need for you to fake being completely amazed. Loki has added so much detail work, flowers, candles and even some balloons since you had last seen the room. The Avengers, your friends, your family and some of your closest coworkers are here, ready to celebrate you. You turn to thank Loki and he lets go of your hand.
You look down in shock, covering your mouth with one hand as he reaches for your other hand. He kneels on one knee in front of you, a small ring box in his hand.
"Y/N," he starts but he is unable to get another word out
He smirks, "At least I was able to keep this a surprise."
"Loki..." you can barely believe what is happening.
"Yes," you answer quickly.
He laughs, "Darling, I didn't ask yet."
"I don't care, yes," you tell him and he stands up, putting the ring on your finger. You don't even look at it but you know it is perfect. You throw your arms around Loki and he picks you up, kissing you fiercely.
"I love you," you tell him over the sound of everyone clapping in the background.
"I love you too," he says before kissing you again.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
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Veni, Vidi, Vici | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
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Summary: Things finally come to a head following the last of Michael's exams | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, virginity loss, somewhat tipsy sex
Part One : Quid Pro Quo Part Two : Carpe Diem
A:N: let's just ignore the fact this has been in my drafts since December 😘 And yes, I didn't come the first time either, it happens okkkk. Sorry if this is all over the place, I wrote half of it like four months ago and the other half last week soo
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Every single time she saw his username pop up on her computer, an involuntary smile spread across her face, and warmth pooled in her belly with the memory of that evening still fresh in her mind. She isn’t quite sure what she enjoys remembering more, his flushed cheeks and glasses askew or the way he was trying to adjust his cargo trousers to somewhat hide his erection by the end of their second tryst.
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After that short interaction though, she was surprised at his restraint, if not a bit impressed. She’d at least managed to avoid the irresistible pull of his company in time to finish the last of her exams. And as for Michael, were it not for the odd text message or the ‘active’ icon next to his username in MSN, she would have thought he dropped off the face of the planet.
Part of her can imagine him now, bent over his desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers, mind working like freshly-oiled cogs and pushing his glasses up his nose. Completely concentrated. And yet, he was still on his computer, with the application open, as if to test his own restraint.
And to be fair to him, he never cracked, not once. For the entire time since their last meeting and now, he never messaged.
With her own exams out of her way, she spent most of her time with Priya (albeit at the pub, with glasses of wine emptied as well as the details of every meeting she’d had with Michael Gavey).
“Oh my god, as if you are into nerdy little white boys!” she laughed with a cigarette perched between her two fingers and proclaimed far too loudly so that the entire pub heard.
“Shut u-” she retorted with a slap to her arm, “besides, not so little, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s like I hardly know you. I love it.”
“Stop it,” she retorts, sitting back in her chair with a flush to her face, “he's genuinely nice.”
“That's not what I heard,” Priya snorts, “I hear he had a hissy fit on like the first day ‘cos someone wouldn't ask him a sum.”
“He's very passionate.”
“Hm,” she widened her eyes, “let’s hope it translates.”
She presses her lips together to keep herself from smiling. Watching Priya’s mind tick will never get old.
“Oh my fucking god, is he a v-”
“Yes, Priya!”
She gasps in mock surprise, “you absolute gremlin. So you've not…?”
“Not yet,” she replies with a shake of her head, “told him we could after he's done his exams.”
“And you're making him wait for it? I had no idea you were so cruel.”
She shrugs, biting back a smile as her eyes drop to the table. Excitement bubbling in her belly.
Priya leans in, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "So, spill it then. What's the plan for the big night?"
She chuckles nervously, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. "I don't know, Priya. I've never been in this position before. It's like uncharted territory."
Priya's eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “My queen of confidence, feeling nervous? This I have to see."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful glint in them. "Oh, shut up. It's different when it's someone you actually like."
Priya nods understandingly, but then her expression turns mischievous. "Well, just remember to relax and enjoy yourself. And if all else fails, there's always wine."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Thanks, Priya. I appreciate the pep talk."
Priya grins, raising her glass. "To new adventures and nerdy white boys!"
As they continue chatting, her phone buzzes with a new message. She glances down at the screen, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Priya notices her reaction and nudges her playfully. "Ooh, speak of the devil?"
She nods, trying to suppress her smile as she reads the message. "Yeah, he's just about to go in for his exam." 
Priya winks suggestively. "Maybe he's hoping for a sneak preview of what's to come? You know, for luck.”
“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes, typing off a quick reply of good luck, “remind me to never tell you personal shit ever again.”
“Mate, it's the suit. You're gonna see him in it and jump his di-”
“Priya!”
“What?!”
She should have known better really that wine tends to have this loosening effect on Priya. And she'd barely finished her own glass before it was time to hop off and meet Michael after his very last exam. It was the perfect day for it, with the sun blaring, everyone was in a good mood, with an electrifying and exciting atmosphere light in the breeze.
As she waited with the other groups of friends waiting to cheer on the examinees, she felt that pleasant roll of nerves in her stomach, biting her lip to contain her smile.
She thought that with some level of embarrassment, she was really really falling for this guy. Or this ‘nerdy, white boy’ as Priya so eloquently put it.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling when she saw his lanky, suit clad form saunter out of the exam hall. Her chest ached pleasantly when he hopefully scanned the crowd, watching others join their friends in celebration. And for a moment, she thought she detected the slightest hint of fomo.
But nothing compared to when he finally spotted her.
Though Michael tried to hide it, a thin lipped smile spread across his face, fiddling with the cap he held in his palms, looking down as if to hide his expression.
Her hands found the front of his suit, affectionately running over the material, “Hey. You look nice.”
He nearly rolled his eyes, “can't wait to get out of it. Too hot for this.”
The excited squealing and shouting stole both of their attention for a moment, particularly Michael's. He glanced sideways at the Felix Catton, with his newest toy, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.
She furrowed her brows, patting his chest, “who's that?”
Michael blinked behind his glasses, throat bobbing as he remained quiet for a moment, “No-one. Come on, let's go.”
As they settled by the tranquil riverbank, the gentle murmur of the water providing a soothing backdrop, they both relaxed into the moment. The weight of the exam stress began to lift, replaced by the lightness of shared laughter and companionship.
Sitting side by side, their feet dangling over the edge, they clinked their bottles together in a silent toast before taking refreshing sips. The sun cast a warm glow over them, painting the scene with hues of gold and amber.
Leaning back on their hands, they watched as birds soared overhead, their graceful movements adding to the serenity of the afternoon. Occasionally, a playful breeze would ruffle their hair, prompting soft chuckles and playful swats.
“So, have you decided yet?” 
She glanced at him over her shoulder, “what?”
He fiddled with his tie that he'd long taken off in somewhat of a nervous gesture, “it’s been 142 minutes.”
She furrowed her brows, trying not to look amused, “since what?”
He chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. “You said you'd consider being my girlfriend after exams.”
Her smile widened, a fondness evident in her gaze. “Oh, that? Well, I guess it's been 142 minutes too long then, hasn't it?”
She could see the way he was trying not to look too relieved. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirmed, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But only if you promise to stop counting the minutes.”
He cocked his head, a breathy laugh falling from between his lips, a faint flush rising to his cheeks at the brief moment of contact. “No can do.”
She hummed a laugh, the lightness of the situation making her stomach flip, “Are the Carol Vorderman posters non-negotiable too?”
He threw his head up to the sky, “Fucking christ, I don’t have-”
“I know! I know!”
Had Michael seen himself months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined it, walking back to his dorm with a half-empty stomach and the alcohol to replace it with a tipsy waddle, and a girl’s hand closed in his, swinging at their sides.
Whereas campus was usually rife with busy students, toing and froing between the library, lectures and their dorms, today was calm, clear. And it felt as if for once, Michael could loosen the reins on the anticipation that had been building in preparation for his exams, and relax into the soothing company she offered. 
She laughed as he tripped over the threshold to his room, the tiniest drop of fruity cider still at the bottom of her bottle. Michael flushed and immediately went to unbutton his shirt, looking somewhat apprehensive.
“Leave it on, if you want,” she smiled coyly, watching the way a blush crept up his neck, his wide blue eyes beneath the frames of his glasses all shy with anticipation.
“...you sure?”
She nodded immediately, trying to calm his nerves. Though she could hardly blame him, she'd felt the same flutters in her belly when it was her first time. She was sure he was no different.
“Course, looks good on you anyway,” she mused, her fingers gently swatting his hand away playfully to undo only the top few buttons. Michael shivered at her touch there, sending waves of pleasurable nerves through his body.
They stood there for a moment, taking each other in, and as she set her bottle down on the desk, she couldn't help but lean in to press one, two, tipsy kisses to his neck. If she could see his face, his eyes had long since slipped shut, lips parted as if not knowing what on earth to say.
“I've…never done this before.”
“It's okay,” she whispered, breath hot on his skin, “I'll look after you.”
The cheeky smile she gave him made his heart almost stop dead in his chest. But his confession, and her calm receiving of it, seemed to bridge the gap between them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he captured the surprised gasp between his lips, and worked up the courage he'd built the last two trysts of intimacy into this one tender moment.
It was gentle at first, hesitant. But as their mutual desire overcame their initial shyness, it deepened in no time.
Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, careful fingers threading up over his nap to the sandy, blonde hair that had formed a subtle wave from the humidity. His own hands settled on her waist, pulling their bodies flush. And the softness of her lips and the anticipation of his hands drifting lower to the hem of her dress, had his stomach doing backflips.
They moved to the bed by sheer instinct, their kisses growing more urgent as she gently pushed him down and straddled his lap, all while his hands roamed her back, waist and lower towards her thighs, exploring the contours and curves of her body above him.
She pulled back slightly, her own face flushed from heat, feeling his hardness already between her legs where she was placed on top of him, “trust me, okay?”
Michael nodded, the bob of his throat betraying how nervous he was, “I do...”
She smiled, her own confidence calming his nerves, and guided his hands to the straps of her dress, showing without words that there was nothing beneath it. Michael himself let out a strained whimper when her hand crept up his thigh, and massaged his erection through his suit trousers, squeezing up his shaft to the sensitive tip.
“We can do it like this, if you prefer..” she whispered, wanting to do things the way he wanted for his first time.
He nodded, looking up at her with an expression that said everything, relief, “yeah, please..”
Her hands were tender and slow, undoing the heavy buckle of his belt and popping the button, each movement making the air feel hot in his chest. And emboldened by their intimacy, his own hands slid up her thighs, rolling the hem of her dress up to her hips, sighing against her lips and smirking when she whined at his grip.
“Fuck-” 
It was her turn to grin when she finally wrapped her hand around him, pulling him from the confines of his boxers and teasing him with her touch. His eyes dared to look between them, at her slender fingers around his cock, drawing both delicious pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 
Her hips lowered, to grind herself on his length, and Michael nearly lost it there and then, even thinking about being inside her. To be honest, it was part of the reason he wanted to stay clothed, because he'd finish too quickly if he saw her completely naked.
“You okay?” She asked with a pleased smile, knowing her answer without needing an answer.
“Y-yeah…do I need…”
“It's up to you,” she reassured, “I'm clean, and I'm on the pill so…”
He nodded, secretly a little mortified at the idea of having his first time without protection on his part. It had always been drilled into him that, in truth, he was a little apprehensive, but the knowledge that she was careful, made him feel better about it.
“Do you want me like this?” She asked quietly, her lips at his jaw, pressing tiny gentle kisses, “me on top.”
“Yeah, yeah…”, Michael nodded quickly, his hands tightening at her hips. In truth he just wanted to do it, too wound tight and excited to care about the position.
She shuffled closer, trailing her lips down his neck as she pulled her underwear to one side. Truthfully the alcohol, as little as it was, had made her a bit needy for him the second he walked out of the exam hall. And being his first time, it was probably just as well he didn't feel the need to prepare her, assuming it'd be overwhelming for him.
Slowly she lowered herself onto him, the initial stretch stealing the air from her lungs for a moment. She could feel his breath come in ragged gasps. His grip tighten. And as soon as she felt him tense, she stopped and let him decide when he wanted to continue.
She was so warm and tight around him, Michael couldn't help at first but think it was uncomfortable. But once he took a breath, he could feel her silky walls envelop him, closing in with a desperate hold. It was hard to stay still. And that initial discomfort ebbed into relaxation.
She was about to ask if he was okay, but she let out a strained moan, as his hands pushed her hips down to meet his as he pushed up, pulling her on top of him so that she was flush to his body.
Her hands held him tight, he felt utterly different inside her than she had imagined. The stretch of him was a pleasurable pain at first, but once she'd relaxed and adjusted around him, after months of no sex, she felt herself grind on him slightly.
“Jesus fucking Christ-”
She smiled at that, leaning up to face him, “you okay?..”
“God, yeah, very okay-” he manages.
“Do you want me to-”
“Can I…” he asks, “please.”
“Y-yeah-” 
His hand slipped behind her neck, tugging her lips down to his, while the other slid down her back, pushing her down on him to meet him halfway with every tentative thrust into her. From this position, with her chest nearly flush to his, her breasts rippling over the top of her dress rhythmically, she could feel him deeper. And the sensation had her unable to form any coherent thought.
She knew he wouldn't last long. Judging by the way he was moaning lowly against her lips and how his hips stuttered as they moved.
She also didn't expect any kind of orgasm from the experience, fully wanting it to just be comfortable for Michael and nothing else. But when he pulls her down, his hands snaking around her waist tightly, and the cooling sensation on his glasses against her shoulder as he buries his head there, she finds that, whether he intended to or not, he brushes against her sweet spot.
Michael groans as she tightens around him slightly, each push inside of her fuels the numb, simmering sparks of an orgasm, slowly building, and she is powerless to stop it.
“Fffuck-”
And yet she can feel him losing momentum. He's worn himself out too early she can tell. So pushing herself off his chest, she sits up on top of him and does the work herself. Her thighs burn and she feels a bit self conscious being in full view like this, but it feels too good for her to care. She grinds her hips down on his length, looking down at Michael and watching his appreciative expression, his glasses skewed slightly.
His jaw goes slack at the renewed pace, and his hands remain on her waist as he throws his head back, brows furrowed, the tell tale sign he's nearly there. So concentrated on moving on top of him, she knows she won't come, but it still feels nice nonetheless.
And as she pushes her hips backwards and forwards on him, nudging her sweet spot more forcefully, she cries out, causing Michael to look down between them and watch the way he disappears inside of her, moist bodies slapping together.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm-”
Michael would be ashamed to say how much he's touched himself to the thought of that first night with her, when she knelt between his legs in the common room. Of course, it felt good. But finishing inside her, with her smooth, velvety walls sucking him in, fluttering around him, feels so entirely different. It's like being on another planet.
His hips give a few final mini thrusts up into her, before he stills, riding out his high and letting himself descend from heaven. He is only brought back, when she leans down to kiss his neck, trailing up to his jaw.
“You okay?...” She asks, her voice ragged and quiet.
Michael swallows through breaths he sucks in, “yeah…” he answers simply, glancing up at her and smiling through foggy lenses. “You?”
She laughs breathily, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest, “More than okay.”
“Even though you didn't…?”
“Don't worry about me. Tonight was for you,” she smiles, sliding off him to his side, and pulling her dress down slightly. “You did great, you know.”
He chuckles, tucking himself away, slinging an arm around her, “guess all that practice watching Countdown paid off.”
She snorts a laugh at that, the atmosphere lifting, “yeah, remind me to send Carol Vordermann an official thank you.”
Michael grins, feeling more relaxed now. "You think she'd respond? Maybe send me an autograph for my wall?"
She laughs, nudging him playfully. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know she had such a positive impact on your life.” she smiles at him, tucking herself beneath the covers, “anyway stop talking about other women around me, I get jealous.”
“Sor-ry,” he smirks. Michael's grin widens as he pretends to ponder deeply. "Well, as long as you're teaching, maybe you could help me with all the different positions... in grammar, of course."
She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement as he rolls on top of her, her legs parting instinctually. "Oh, absolutely, but I must warn you, I'm very thorough."
Michael replies, voice low and warm, his hand stealing between them both to slide his fingers between her thighs. “Good thing I'm a quick learner then.”
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Comfort Calls - Ingrid Engen
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Ingrid Engen X Fem!Reader
Summary: Comforting Ingrid after the... rather unpleasant... game when she was in Norway
Warnings: Had to use that picture of Ingrid lol, Sad Ingrid and reader, use of Norwegian, translations into English listed! If the translation is wrong don't blame me, blame translate on google.
Authors Note: Find of short but hope you enjoy!
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You felt your heart shatter when the game whistle blew, Norway had lost a very important game, a devastating loss was felt all over Norway, and the team.
Your thoughts immediately get to your girlfriend, the beautiful, kind Norwegian who you gave your heart too on December 16, 2022.
You knew she would be upset, everyone would.
Your questions were answered when the tv cut to a clip of all of the Norwegians crying on the pitch, your brunette girlfriend being one of them.
You felt tears prickle your eyes just watching her cry, hours away, you couldn't do any thing from Barcelona but watch her cry.
Unable to wrap your arms around her until she feels better.
After the match, and about 2 hours after, you decided to call her. Knowing you gave her enough time to calm down and go back to the hotel.
The phone rang for 3 second before being picked up. You could hear sniffles in the background, signaling she had been crying in her hotel room.
"Hey baby, are you okay?" Your voice calm and comforting, knowing that she is in a vulnerable state and very upset.
"Yeah, just disappointed." Your heart breaks again hearing the sadness and quietness in her voice, you aren't not used to hearing your happy and bubbly girlfriend so upset.
"I wish I could be there with you right now, babe." The words getting stuck in your throat, and your throat starting to burn by holding back tears.
"I wish you could be here too kjærlighet, very badly." (Love) She breaks out into tears mid sentence, making you start to cry as well.
"Its okay baby, you can cry as much as you want to." You never wanted to jump through the phone and kiss and hug someone so badly as you did right now.
You both sat there for a couple minutes as she calmed down and she spoke again.
"I tried really hard, I didn't want to disappoint you." She says the last sentence quieter, almost hard to hear but you caught it.
"Love you didn't disappoint me at all. You never could do anything to disappoint me. Never, do you understand?" Seriousness is heard in your voice, the voice you rarely use with her but you wanted her to know you were serious.
"Yes, jeg elsker deg så mye" (I love you so much) You could hear a smile in her voice, she always smiled when she said she loved you. She didn't know why she did, but she couldn't hold back a smile when she would say the words.
She also almost never said it in English. not that she couldn't, she just wanted you to know she seriously meant it when she used her mother tongue."
"I love you too baby, get some rest my love and I will see you soon."
"Okay, goodnight kjærlighet, you get some sleep too," (Love) You hear another smile in her words and smile to yourself at the sound.
"Yes of course, goodnight babe." You make a kiss sound into the phone and she mirrors it before hanging up.
When the call ends you smile before putting the phone away, you always knew after hard away games, all she needed was a comfort call from her girlfriend, and she would be just fine.
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Over-Time Ch7
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6
Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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The lobby was filled with loud chatter as the morning crew was heading out for lunch. The chatter soon came to a silence once the main doors opened. The loud clicking of heels took over the lobby as everyone remained focus on the individual who entered the building.
"A little birdy told me Lyla was on vacation." The person spoke, their lips curled into a smile.
"Yes, ma'am; however, Miguel already has a new secretary."
"So I've heard. I'll be heading up-"
"Sorry, but you can't. Miguel gave us strict orders to not allow you past the lobby. I'm sorry, but you must leave." The receptionist warned the woman.
"Tch, what a bother. Very well, I'll just have to bump into him or that little mouse."
As fast as the woman entered, she left. Soon, whispers filled the lobby as everyone assumed that you were in deep shit. No one but Lyla had survived that snake.
At least you lasted two weeks on your own.
---------
This was driving you crazy. Ever since that incident in the elevator, Miguel had been really handsy with you. The man oozed sex appeal and he was using every last drop of it to torment you. There had been times where you wanted to kiss him, but you couldn't.
He was your boss!
No matter how many times his hand stroked your cheek. No matter how long his hands stayed against yours. No matter how tender his grip was against your waist. No matter how close his sweet whispers were to your ear...
You couldn't.
Miguel was giving you so many mixed signals. His kind personality often confused you with his loving tone, but then...Miguel would get strict and push you away. He was so confusing and you just wanted answers. You wanted to know if it was okay for you to have these feelings for him.
"Sir, are you ready for your next appointment?" You asked, entering Miguel's office.
"I suppose. It's only going to be another fruitless venture of trying to get me to invest in a stupid plan. I don't suppose you have a way for me to avoid such troublesome idiots?" Miguel asked with a soft chuckle.
"Hm..." You pushed your lips forward as you thought, "You really shouldn't, but what if we pretended an emergency came up for your Fall Banquet?"
"Tempting."
Miguel approached you with a smile, his hand resting on your back as he led you out. You could melt against him if he let you.
"Oh, Miguel, you're tie."
You noticed his crooked tie and proceeded to fix it. As you did, you could feel your heart racing as Miguel stared at you. His hands resting against yours before bringing them to his lips. You could feel your heart in your throat.
"Aren't I lucky to have you, hm?" His voice was low.
"Ah-"
You squeaked as you tried to take a step back, but ended up tripping over your heel. You gasped as you nearly fell back, but Miguel had managed to catch you in time.
"S-Sorry-ah!" You whimpered as you tried to stand.
"Well now, I suppose this works too."
Gasping softly, you wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck as he picked you up. Your face was probably a million shades of red as he carried you out of the office.
"M-Miguel-Sir!"
"Now, now. Can't have my precious secretary injured on the job. Let me take you to first aid."
You whimpered only in protest, but proceeded to cover your face. This was embarrassing, but you couldn't help but smile. Miguel was far too good for a clumsy one like yourself.
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Miguel was impressed by his own self control. After almost kissing you in the elevator, Miguel had to hold back greatly. That still didn't stop him from touching you. Oh, how he wished for more. How he dreamt for more.
But this was enough.
Taking you to the first aid floor, Miguel was concerned for your ankle. He found you adorable whenever you would get clumsy. It wasn't like you did it on purpose, but it was so amusing. Sometimes Miguel wanted to get you riled up just so he can watch you.
A sadist sometimes, but that was just Miguel. As he stepped off the elevator, Miguel glanced down at you. Hard working as always. You were in the middle of sending an apology message to his greedy business partner for missing the meeting.
"There....hopefully they will understand." You whispered. Miguel nodded towards the nurse as he placed you down on a bed,
"Understanding or not, they have no choice. It's my business they want, so they have to wait."
"Dumb question...But where does Alchemax stand...in the business world?"
Miguel glanced up at your innocent gaze. No matter how many times you asked, Miguel loved how naïve you were. He loved the fact that you still had no care for his status as a CEO, or that of his business. You just came to do your job.
"On top of the world," Miguel hummed.
He took your heel off, chuckling towards your complaints. The nurse was busy doing other stuff, so Miguel had to take care of you. Who else would he trust with someone as precious as you?
"Ah-" You whimpered in pain as Miguel pressed against your ankle.
"Swollen, but not broken. My dear (Y/N), you must be more careful alone. Be clumsy when I'm around, alright?"
"I-I was," You stuttered in embarrassment.
Miguel resisted a chuckle as he started to massage your ankle. You could only whimper in pain as he did so. Listening to your little whimpers made Miguel's mind wander. He leaned closer to you, kissing your ankle.
"M-Mig-" You covered your mouth as your heard the nurse talk to another patient.
Miguel's gaze focused on your expression. How seductive you were as you covered your mouth while your face burned red. His kisses trailing up from your ankle to your inner thigh. It was hard for him to focus as you trembled against his touch.
Stroking his hand against your thigh, Miguel resisted a groan as he felt up your skirt ever so slightly. You laid back against the bed, closing your eyes as you withheld your whines.
Letting his dick do all the talking, Miguel climbed over you. His hands still against your thighs as he trailed his kisses against your neck this time. You moved your head to the side, shaking slightly.
"You're letting me be selfish again," Miguel whispered against your ear, "It's so hard...to hold back."
"I-I....I did....say that you could," You whimpered softly. Miguel groaned lowly,
"(Y/N)"
"Alright, next I believe I saw our CEO," The nurse spoke.
Miguel immediately got off you and sat beside the bed. He fixed his suit as the nurse opened the curtain, her head still glued to the clipboard. You quickly sat up, trying to cover your flustered expression.
"A-Actually....I may have...sprained my ankle," You said shyly.
"No worries. Let me take a look."
Miguel started to tune out as the nurse took care of you. His attention was focused on your lips. You didn't care about his status or anything, but yet you let him have his way with you. It was a no brainer that you liked him.
Hell, Miguel was falling hard for you, but even he knew that this was wrong. Miguel was taking advantage of you. He needed to stop, but at the same time, he wanted you. Miguel could see you at his side as a partner and maybe even a wife.
"Let me get an ice pack, I'll be right back." The nurse spoke before leaving.
"(Y/N), be my date for the Fall Banquet." Miguel spoke calmly, as if he wasn't about to fuck you a second ago.
"Huh? Are you sure?" You questioned. Miguel just smiled,
"No doubt in my mind would I love to have you by my side."
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Oh, his words were making you melt. How could you not share feelings with this god of a man. Perchance, this would be a good opportunity to try and kiss him? Miguel was no stranger to sharing his desires...maybe you should be brave and do so too?
"I-I would love too, then." You chirped. Miguel stood and kissed your hand,
"Then I believe we should start dress shopping. Can't have my date being outshined by anyone else."
"You...You don't have too!" Miguel was making your heart race again.
"I'm a selfish man, you know this by now. Don't you want my eyes only on you?"
Your eyes widen as you looked into Miguel's gaze. Your breathing shuddered as you bit your lower lip.
"Yes."
"Then it's settled. We shall go dress shopping as soon as your ankle heals."
"Hehe, thank you sir."
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"If Miguel won't see me, then I'll have to approach him. No one deserves the Fall Crown but me."
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Hehe, slow burn gonna eat ya'll alive.
Gonna be on a one month hiatus outta state! See you all soon!
Next Chapter
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chuuyrr · 2 days
Text
ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BOTH YOUNG WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU — NAKAHARA CHUUYA .ᐟ
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ᡣ𐭩 CW(s): f! reader, 15! chuuya (initially) but both of you grow up in the end ofc, strangers to friends to lovers trope, fluff with slight angst, inspired by howl's moving castle, not proofread
ᡣ𐭩 SYNOPSIS: in which he loved you since fifteen
ᡣ𐭩 NOW PLAYING: fearless and love story by taylor swift
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chuuya made his way through the packed streets, and it didn't take long for his sharp eyes to notice a commotion up ahead. a group of middle schoolers surrounded a lone, young girl, their taunts and jeers resonating through the air.
chuuya's brows furrowed, and his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sight. he always had a low tolerance for those who preyed on the weak, especially when they targeted someone as vulnerable as a middle schooler.
so, with a sigh, he approached the scene at hand, his presence demanding attention as those bullies fixed their sight on him.
"oi, who the hell are you?" one of them snarled, puffing out his chest in a futile attempt to appear threatening as he saw chuuya.
chuuya only smirked at the mere display of threat, his gray-blue eyes gleaming with a menacing glint, "someone who doesn't take kindly to cowards who pick on the innocent."
with that, chuuya began to glow red as he began to manipulate gravity, and the ground beneath the bullies' feet trembled, sending them falling backward in confusion and fear.
you looked up, surprised by the sight of the intriguing figure before you. you had heard stories about the sheep and their leader, but you never expected to meet him in person, let alone in the thick of your own personal turmoil at the time.
it didn't take long for those bullies to flee from the sheep king, terrified for their own lives. if you were in their shoes, you would have done exactly the same. ghe king of the sheep was someone who prowled the streets using his devastating gravity manipulation ability.
you blink quietly in astonishment as the teen's red aura stemming from his ability fades, his ginger locks falling back to frame his face as his gray-blue eyes rest on yours, softening.
"hey, you alright?" chuuya asked, his tone softer now as he turned his attention to you.
you immediately nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "y-yes, thank you."
as you stood in the dimly lighted alley, your heart was still beating from the previous encounter with the bullies, but you were pleased for his sudden appearance. you would have been done for if he hadn't been around, and your money would have been stolen again.
you couldn't help but look at him in admiration as a smile appeared on his lips, and his smile warmed your heart as he took a step closer, relieving your tension from the previous occurrences.
"err—i couldn't just stand by and watch," he admitted, his sincerity evident in his gaze as he stares at you, "are you sure you're okay?"
you nodded again, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks with a shy smile tugging on your lips, "well, i am now. that's for sure.."
his heart skipped a beat at your words, and chuuya realized he couldn't let you slip away so easily, and so he couldn't help but ask.
"so. would, uh, you... would you like me to walk you home?" he cleared his throat.
his sweet gesture sent your heart fluttering. you would never have expected the fearsome sheep king to be thus nice, given how he was usually portrayed as deadly, a force to be reckoned with. perhaps it was a reminder that, at the end of the day, he was not a king.
he was just a teenager, a child—just like you.
warmth spreads through you as you nodded your head in agreement and took his outstretched hand with a growing smile, "sure!"
as chuuya walked you home, he couldn't help but notice your middle school uniform, which served as a sharp reminder of the childhood he never had. his eyes lingered on the familiar scene, a stab of jealousy tugging at his heart as he pondered what it would have been like to go to school like any other child.
despite his envy, he developed a curious attraction. he was drawn to you, intrigued by the innocence and youth that emanated from your being, and despite the difficulties he experienced as the sheep's leader, he just couldn't resist the pull of your youthful vigor, which stood in stark contrast to the darkness that pervaded his life. there was just something.
maybe you were the one who had the ability to manipulate gravity after all, huh?
chuuya couldn't resist the impulse to strike up a conversation with you as you led him through the streets, walking directly by your side on your left as he let you take the sidewalk.
"so, uh, what's it like being a middle schooler?" he inquired, real curiosity in his voice.
you looked up at him, taken aback by his question yet ready to share your experiences regardless.
"it's... alright, i guess?" you said, a faint smile on your lips, "school can be tough sometimes, but it's nice to have friends and teachers who are there for me."
chuuya nodded, his curiosity peaked by your reply, "friends and teachers, huh? sounds like you've got a good support system," he said with a tinge of wistfulness in his tone as he whispered the last part, "must be nice.."
you agreed, a sensation of thankfulness welling up within you, "mhm, but what about you? what's it like being the leader of the sheep?"
chuuya's demeanor softened in response to the question you asked, a mixture of pride and melancholy flickering through his eyes.
"it's challenging, to say the least," he said, his voice laced with emotion, "we may not have much in the sheep, but we look out for each other, no matter what.."
as you were going to continue the talk, you observed a look of surprise on chuuya's face.
"wait... how do you know me?" he inquired, his gray blue eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you with renewed interest.
you blushed, realizing you'd accidentally disclosed your knowledge of him, as you stuttered and tried to avoid any raise of suspicion from him, "i, um, i've heard about you from some friends.. they call you the king of the sheep, but that's all i promise! i don't know much!"
chuuya's expression relaxed, and a soft smile formed at the corners of his lips upon seeing your cute stammer. it was such a sight to be hold. you looked so cute when you were nervous. it made feel some things in his chest.
"i see," he said in an amused tone, "well, i guess it's not every day that the leader of the sheep gets recognized by a (cute) middle schooler."
his response made you less tense now, and you couldn't help but smile again.
"you know, i didn't think you were this.. nice.” you said to him, fiddling with your fingers.
chuuya smiled softly in response to your statement, a touch of amusement flickering in his keen gray blue eyes, "i suppose i'm not always what people expect," he conceded, a contemplative expression crossing his face as he shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner.
you nodded, a sense of admiration rising within you as you saw chuuya in a new light. despite his profound reputation and ability, there was a tenderness and warmth about him that you had not expected.
"well, i'm glad i got to see this side of you, sheep king. it's an honor," you replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
chuuya returned your smile, and a sense of camaraderie grew between you, "likewise," he remarked, his tone sincere, "and who knows? maybe there's more to me than meets the eye."
before you head inside your house after he accompanied you, you turn around to see chuuya, a gleam of curiosity in your eyes.
"by the way, i never really got your name," you admitted, a sheepish smile playing on your lips.
chuuya's lips quirk into a smirk at your question. "ah, right. i'm nakahara chuuya," he replied, his voice warm and inviting to the soul.
"nakahara chuuya..." you repeated, the name rolling off your tongue as you commit it to memory, "thank you for walking me home, and for saving me earlier, chuuya. it was nice meeting you."
chuuya nodded, a sense of contentment settling over him, "of course," he says, his smile widening, "take care of yourself, alright?"
as chuuya turns around to leave, you sense a strong need to follow him. with a racing heart, you catch up to him from your door, reaching out to grab his arm before he disappears off into the night.
"wait, chuuya!" you called out to him, your voice tinged with urgency.
chuuya, taken aback by your unexpected gesture, turns back to face you, his gray-blue eyes widening as you embrace him. his breath catches in his throat, and his cheeks flush with surprise at the unexpected display of devotion.
for a brief moment, the world around you fades away as you cling to chuuya, the sensation of his warmth enveloping you in a soothing embrace. as you eventually pull away, a flush growing across your cheeks, you meet his stare with a mix of shyness and sincerity.
"i know i thanked you already, but i just.. wanna thank you more personally like this," you muttered softly, which made his heart skip a beat.
chuuya's heart just couldn't help but flutter in response to your words, and he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face.
"anytime," he chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate.
as you return home, the image of his flushed countenance lingers in your mind, leaving you with a smile that lasts late into the night.
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the days that followed were a haze for you, packed with the typical schedule of classes and homework from school.
despite the monotony, memories of chuuya persisted in the back of your mind, his surprising kindness leaving an indelible mark on you. you never expected the king of the sheep to be like that. you expected him to be scary just as they had depicted him to be.
"chuuya?" you called out, your voice tinged with curiosity as you approached him.
chuuya turned to face you, a sheepish smile on his lips, and greeted you with a hand on the nape of his neck, "hey, [name]. i, uh, hope you don't mind my waiting for you here.”
you shook your head, a mix of curiosity and excitement coursing through you. "oh, no! not at all. it's just unexpected to see you here. that's all," you said, tilting your head to the side, making his chest feel fuzzy at the sight.
chuuya chuckled softly, "i wanted to, uh, tell you something."
as the talk between you and chuuya progressed in the secluded area near the college gates, you developed a sensation of eagerness. finally, unable to resist your curiosity, you couldn't help but ask, "so, what did you want to talk to me about, chuuya?"
"i've been thinking.." he said, his voice trailing off briefly as he looked for the proper words.
"...i've been thinking that maybe we could spend more time together," chuuya finally continued to his words, his voice becoming more confident as he talked but he stammered, "i've loved our discussions thus far, and i’d like to get to know you better, if that's okay with you.. i-i understand if you don't want to identify yourself with me. i mean, i know i have a reputation for being the sheep kin—"
you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight flowing through you as you blurted out an excited, "of course i don't mind!" which cut him off.
chuuya's smile widened at your response, a warmth flowing through his chest and cheeks, and his freckled face turned pink as he realized you felt the same way.
"r-really?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief but excitement—genuine excitement, "how about we meet up after your classes tomorrow? we could grab a bite to eat or explore the city together. anything is cool with me."
the possibility of spending more time with chuuya piqued your interest, and you quickly nodded in accord.
and so, the next day, as the last bell rung to indicate the end of courses, you eagerly made your way to the specified meeting place where you would meet chuuya. your heart beat with excitement, wondering what experiences awaited you and chuuya as the heels of your shoes thumped against the ground.
as you neared the spot of the meeting place, you noticed chuuya waiting for you, a warm smile lighting up his face. he went forward without hesitation and embraced you tightly, surprising you but filling you with a sense of warmth and comfort.
"hey," chuuya never spoke this softly around anyone else, but you were an exception somehow as he hugged you.
returning the hug, you couldn't help but smile at him. "hey," you exhaled softly, filled with joy at the sight of him.
chuuya released you from his embrace and his touch sent a spark of electricity through as he suddenly took your hand in his, the skin to skin contact making your cheeks even warmer.
"come on, let's go," he murmured, his enthusiasm evident as he led you away from the campus gates.
before you could even question where you two were going, chuuya began sprinting, pulling you along with him as you laughed in surprise and excitement. the wind whipped past you as you sprinted side by side, your surroundings a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds.
as you raced through the streets together, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline surge through your veins, making you lose yourself in the moment as a smile etched on your lips.
chuuya abruptly came to a halt, his gray-blue eyes flashing with mischief as he turned to face you with a cheeky smirk, "quick, hold on tight."
"wha—?!"
before you could react, chuuya's hands began to glow with a faint, pulsating light, and with a flick of his wrist, he used his gravity manipulation ability as you held onto him, and in an instant, you felt lifted off the earth, weightless and free as you hovered in midair.
surprised but delighted by the sensation, you couldn't help but giggle in glee as chuuya twirled you around with ease, like you were in a ballroom made out of clouds and clear skies.
as you drifted together, floating in midair, you couldn't help but feel a sense of enchantment and wonder surround you.
and when you looked into chuuya's eyes, you felt a flood of emotions surge through you—love, excitement, and a sense of limitless possibility, and as he held you close, his touch, warm, delicate yet firm—that's when you realized you has discovered something genuinely rare too.
a love that defied gravity.
with a giggle bubbling up from within your throat, you couldn't help but wrap your arms around chuuya's neck, holding on to him as you soared over the air together.
chuuya's laughter resonated in the air around you, a sound that warmed your heart, a sound that sounded like bells to your ears, as he held you tight and guided you easily into the air.
buildings and houses went beneath you in a blur with each step, making the world below appear little and inconsequential in comparison to the limitless expanse of the sky above.
as the days went and you spent more time with chuuya, a new sense of joy and excitement entered your life. instead of going directly home from school, you found yourself drawn to his side instead, and chuuya always arrived with a bright smile and a humorous glimmer in his pretty gray blue eyes.
"ah, there she is, my queen of the sheep," he'd remark now, his voice full with warm affection as he greeted you every single time.
chuuya's adorable nickname for you warmed your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of curiosity bubbling up inside you. as the two of you went hand in hand, you looked up at him with a curious gleam in your eyes.
"me? queen of the sheep?" you asked, your tone mixed with amusement and interest as you pointed at yourself.
chuuya shrugged softly, his gaze softening as he looked at you, trying to look and sound casual as he spoke, "you're more than just a friend, alright?"
"how so?" you furrowed your brows, a smile growing on your lips as you felt him squeeze your hand in his.
chuuya leaned closer to you, and said, "you're someone special.. someone who brings light and warmth into my life, just like a queen."
chuuya's remark made your cheeks flush with even more warmth, and a faint giggle escaped your lips as you attempted to conceal your amusement of it.
"wow, chuuya.. i never thought the sheep king could be this pretty cheesy," you muttered softly, unable to hide the cute smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
chuuya laughed along with you, shaking his head side to side as he nudged you playfully in return, his voice filled with a teasing tone "i can't help it if I'm a romantic at heart, ya' know?"
your laughter resonated across the quiet streets as you teased chuuya about his unexpected surge of romanticism.
"but do tell, what's gotten into you, being all romantic all of a sudden, hmm?" you asked, a teasing grin coming over your face.
chuuya shrugged, a sheepish smile on his lips, "i guess spending time with you just brings out the cheesy side of me."
you said, nudging him lightly in return, "well, then. it's nice having my own personal romantic."
chuuya laughed and slung his arm around your shoulders as you continued your leisurely stroll across the city.
but then, it happened.
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as the days passed, you were increasingly agitated and concerned when chuuya failed to arrive at your customary after-school meeting place. days turned into weeks real quick.
you waited impatiently each afternoon, scouring the surroundings for any sign of his familiar form, but he wasn't there. you initially tried to dismiss your fears, thinking yourself that he was too busy or preoccupied with something more essential.
he belonged to the sheep, after all. not to you. a fact that you had to accept.
but when the days stretched into weeks with no trace of him, your concern grew into full-fledged anxiety.
and so with a heavy heart, you gradually accepted that chuuya would not be arriving any time soon. the once-vibrant streets way back home felt empty, and the world seemed quieter without him alongside you, and as you walked home alone every day, the weight of his absence sat heavy on your shoulders, as you silently waited for him.
the gods above seemed to have heard your prayers, because he eventually returned, and you found him waiting for you at the normal meeting point after your classes ended one day.
chuuya was dressed in a harsh black suit and formal pants, a white button-up shirt, and black gloves, and your heart sunk at his new look. something had inevitably occurred, and you could tell as the tension hung heavy in the air as you waited for him to speak.
"hey, what happened to you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
chuuya's gaze was distant, and his expression was instantly replaced by a serious expression as he looked into your eyes, "i had to take care of some business."
you could feel the weight of his words. something had changed, something important enough to dramatically alter chuuya's manner and appearance. he wasn't like this before.
a million questions raced through your head, but you held back, allowing chuuya to disclose what he was comfortable with. the stillness stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and worries, but after what seemed like a lifetime, chuuya spoke again, barely above a whisper.
"look, i’m sorry i haven't been around," he replied, his tone tinged with sadness.
chuuya's arms suddenly wrapped securely around you in a comforting embrace, and you felt a rush of emotions flow through you. uncertainty, anxiety, and, most importantly, genuine concern for him.
his words lingered in your head, each syllable laden with significance, and you couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease at the prospect of what they may imply. chuuya tightened his grip on you, as if seeking relief in your presence.
"i'm no longer a part of the sheep," he admitted all of a sudden after mustering enough courage, "things have changed, and i don't exactly know what's going to happen next."
you felt a knot form in your throat at his disclosure, the weight of his words soaking in as you attempted to grasp the enormity of what he was saying. the notion of chuuya leaving the sheep, leaving behind the only life he had ever known, made you feel uneasy and sad.
but his following comments, stated with earnestness that sent shivers down your spine, troubled you much more, "but listen to me, no matter what happens, promise me you'll wait for me," he pleaded, his voice full of desperation, "okay, [name]?"
you furrowed your brows in confusion, unable to make sense of his request, "wait for you? what do you mean, chuuya?"
"i can't explain it right now, but please, trust me," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper, "promise me you'll wait for me, no matter what. okay, [name]?"
you nodded slowly, a sensation of doom washing over you as you made the commitment, but you couldn't shake the notion that chuuya's words had a deeper significance.
as you stood there, struggling with the weight of chuuya's words and the uncertainty of the future, he unexpectedly moved in and placed his lips to yours in a loving kiss, stealing your first kiss.
for a brief minute, time appeared to stand still as your heart beat in your chest, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. his lips were warm against yours, a delicate shiver that sent thrills down your spine and triggered profound feelings within you.
chuuya drew back as fast as it had began, his gaze searching yours for any indication of understanding or reciprocation. the air crackled with tension as you met his eyes—the intensity of the moment hung heavy between you.
"chuuya?" you whispered.
and before you could say anything else, chuuya shook his head, a sorrowful smile forming on the edges of his lips.
"heh, i'm sorry for stealing your first kiss," he said softly, his voice thick with grief, "i just.. i just needed you to know how much you mean to me."
you reached out to him, your fingers quivering as they brushed against his cheek, a wordless gesture of comfort and understanding, and in that moment, words felt unnecessary as you stood together in unspoken affection.
chuuya held you tightly, his lips meeting yours in another delicate kiss, and you felt a rush of warmth travel through your body, lighting a fire deep within. his embrace was firm but delicate, as if he was attempting to express all of his love and longing in that one moment.
but as the kiss continued, you sensed a trace of regret beneath the desire, a tacit acknowledgement of the impending separation between the two of you, and chuuya's grip tightened around you, as if he was attempting to hang on for just a bit longer, unable to let go.
but he had to, and he pulled away hesitantly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of tenderness and sadness.
"i really wish i could stay," he said, just above a whisper, "but i have to leave."
you felt a twinge of sorrow at his words, the weight of his approaching departure clenching around on your poor heart.
"go where?" you asked quietly as chuuya paused for a minute, his expression anguished as he tried to find the perfect words.
"there are some things i need to take care of," he said, cryptically, "but please know that no matter what happens, i'll always carry you with me.”
tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the depth of chuuya's love and devotion for you, and the fact that he was going weighed hard on your thoughts.
"chuuya, please don't go," you begged, your voice choked with anguish, "you can't just show me a world bigger than us, then just leave."
"i know.." he whispered softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "but i swear, i’ll come back for you. just wait for me. okay? i'll come running, and i'll find you in the future. no matter what."
chuuya unwillingly released you from his embrace with one more kiss, his touch lingering on your skin as if he were imprinting himself on you and refusing to let go, and as he turned to leave, you watched him go with a heavy heart, knowing that a piece of yourself would always be with him.
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days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and finally, months into years.
despite your efforts to move on, chuuya's memories did in fact haunt you like a ghost, not just as a reminder, as you stroll through the hallway of your campus as a college student, no longer a middle schooler, you felt the emptiness that time cannot fill, and slowly you have come to realize the truth.
you've outgrown the young girl who waited for chuuya's return, and you wonder if the promise of love you previously held onto was merely a dream.
you remembered sharing your stories about your day at school with chuuya while he told you about the sheep in return, and even life was not always easy, and chuuya was there to console and be your shoulder to lean on during those difficult times.
chuuya would wipe away your tears, hug you, and encourage you as best he could. he would even take you away to an ice cream parlor to soothe your anxious mind, and those fleeting moments left an indelible mark on your heart. he always made sure you came home smiling.
and now, lost in thought, you're wandering through the city streets on your way home from campus. chuuya left seven years ago. he was just fifteen and you were fourteen when you first met, and you still wonder how much he has changed.
suddenly, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. you turn around to see no one which alerted you, but the moment you turn back, you felt like you saw a ghost. the ghost whose memories had always been haunting your mind for years.
he grew his hair long, but those red locks still frame his face the way you remember them, and his gray blue eyes meet yours with such intensity that your pulse skips a beat, sending a rush of nostalgia through your veins, reminding you of how young you were when you first saw each other.
sharper features and cheekbones, a more mature build now dressed in a formal suit, vest, and tie, as well as a coat and hat, and you in a college uniform, different hair and style, but even after time, even if you both were no longer kids, the heart and soul knows and recalls, and will always do.
"i’ve been looking everywhere for you," he says.
you blink, hardly believing it as you utter a soft spoken, "chuuya?"
he steps closer, eyes locked on yours. "you know, i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says quietly with a soft chuckle, "of course i had to find you. i needed to know you were okay."
tears well up in your eyes. you never thought you’d see him again, but here he is, right in front of you, like a fever dream.
"chuuya!" you find yourself crying out his name as you run straight into his arms, the same way you would back then whenever you'd see him waiting for you after school.
chuuya reaches out, catching you in his arms, a constant, and gently cups your cheek, "god, i’m sorry i took so long," he says, smiling at you, "but i’m here now, yeah?"
you let out tearful sniffles and hiccups as you held onto him, clinging to the fabric of his shirt, burying your face in his embrace; his ever-present scent mixed with a rich cologne will forever remind you of home; after all, he was your home, and you were finally home after all these years.
"shh, i'm here, i'm here now i'm so sorry, love," he whispers softly against your face, his warm breath bringing warmth and comfort as he hugs you close to his chest, scared you'll slip away from him again.
"i got tired of waiting, wondering if you'd come back, and wondering if you'd forgotten about me.. i thought you were really gone," you sob, unable to breathe through your tears as you pour your heart out to him, "i kept waiting, and waiting, but you never came.." you continue as he rubs your back.
chuuya's heart clenched, and your tears filled him with guilt. he knows how much everything has taken its toll on you, and he knows he has a lot to catch up on and make up for, so he cups your face in his hands, catching your tears with his thumbs as he rests his forehead against yours before capturing your lips in a tender, longing kiss.
a kiss that is no longer a bittersweet goodbye, but rather a lovely hello.
"we were both young when i first you, but time will never allow me to forget you. i love you, and i love you more than ever," he says with such love in his eyes and he finds himself falling in love all over again, falling in love harder even.
and chuuya kisses you for the second, third, and fourth time, keeping the promise of love he made to you back to when you were both young.
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ᡣ𐭩 A.N.: for some odd reason, and i swear ya'll. this was all way better in my head but hey it's finally done !! ( ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ) ♡
ᡣ𐭩 TAGS: @cheriiyaya @atomi-mi @walking-simp @little-miss-chaoss @soleelia @rainbowsalt0412 @tinypuppyparadise @iheart-nana @velvetyvoyage @lilyzenick @hellkaiserinphoenix
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