#Awakening Sun. [Mr. Mind] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamersworldduh · 5 months ago

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HIS AWAKENING

• NATE JACOBS x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Nate Jacobs embodies the quintessential all-American quarterback—athletic, commanding, and effortlessly attractive. Beneath the surface, however, lies a man riddled with inner conflict. His outward bravado conceals a fragile core shaped by toxic societal expectations, a broken family dynamic, and a deep struggle with his own identity. Nate's carefully constructed image masks a storm of repressed emotions, his intimidating presence serving as both armor and a warning to those who might venture too close.

That is, until Y/N entered his life. Strikingly handsome and unapologetically bold, Y/N exudes a magnetic confidence that demands attention the moment he walks into a room. His blend of charisma, sass, and fearless energy challenges everything Nate thought he knew about himself—and about the walls he's built to keep others out.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 10.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Sorry for the delay—this is quite a long fic that I had to break into two parts. Now, I know some people feel about the immensely complicated Nate Jacobs, however, I wanted to show a different side of him and give his gay awakening.

NEXT PART! HIS AWAKENING — PART 2

The late afternoon sun bathed the campus in a golden hue, casting long, uneven shadows across the pathways. Y/N stepped out of the administrative building, a folder clutched tightly in his hands, filled with room and board information, dormitory rules, and a map of the sprawling university grounds. His mind buzzed with anticipation and a hint of nervousness as he mentally ticked off the steps to get settled. The day had been a whirlwind of check-ins and introductions, and all he wanted now was to find his dorm, unpack, and get a moment to breathe.

Lost in his thoughts, Y/N barely noticed the bustling crowd of students around him until it was too late.

Without warning, he collided with what felt like a brick wall. The impact sent his folder slipping from his grip, papers scattering onto the ground.

"I'm so sorry—" Y/N began, crouching to gather his things, but his apology was cut short by a sharp, irritated voice.

"Maybe you should watch where you're standing," the stranger snapped, his tone clipped and unforgiving.

Y/N froze mid-reach, his gaze snapping upward to meet the source of the hostility. He was greeted by the sight of a towering figure, broad-shouldered and radiating a palpable air of arrogance. The guy was wearing a football jersey, the bold number on his chest practically screaming athlete. His jaw was set, and the way he loomed over Y/N gave off a distinctly entitled vibe.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, straightening up slowly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Didn't realize this was your sidewalk, Mr. Quarterback. Want me to bow next time you grace it with your royal cleats?"

The guy's face darkened, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. His jaw tightened as he took a small step forward, towering over Y/N even more. "What's your problem, man?"

"No problem," Y/N replied smoothly, his tone calm but laced with amusement. He dusted off his papers and tucked them back into the folder before glancing back up. "Just don't appreciate being plowed into like I'm part of your warm-up drills. Or is that how you flirt?"

That comment landed like a slap, throwing the quarterback off balance. His brows furrowed, and his mouth opened slightly as if to retort, but he hesitated. Finally, he muttered, "Yeah, not interested, thanks."

Y/N smirked, unbothered, his sharp eyes scanning the guy with calculated precision. There was something about his tightly wound demeanor, the tension in his shoulders, the barely contained frustration in his voice. It was fascinating in a way that made Y/N want to push a little further.

"Relax, big guy. You're not my type either," Y/N said, his smirk widening. "Too much bottled-up rage under all those muscles. But hey, therapy exists for a reason."

The quarterback growled under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "You don't even know me," he bit out, his voice low and simmering with frustration.

Y/N shrugged, already stepping to the side as if to end the encounter. "Don't have to. You've got 'walking anger issues' written all over you." He turned back briefly to add, his tone almost lighthearted, "Oh, and next time you want to storm through a crowd, maybe pick someone who won't call you out."

The quarterback's patience snapped, his voice lowering into a growl as he took a step forward. "What makes you think I won't—?"

Y/N didn't miss a beat, spinning on his heel to face him again, his smirk sharp and dripping with confidence. "Fight me? Go ahead, QB. But fair warning—I fight dirty. And I don't lose."

For a moment, the two stood there, tension crackling between them like a live wire. The quarterback's fists remained clenched, but he didn't move. There was something flickering in his eyes—something unreadable, caught between frustration and intrigue.

Without waiting for a response, Y/N turned on his heel and walked away, his steps confident as he rejoined his waiting parents by the car.

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd, the quarterback remained rooted to the spot, watching him go. His fists slowly unclenched, but his mind raced, replaying the encounter over and over.

What Y/N didn't know, as he laughed with his parents and carried his things to the dormitory, was that the guy he had just clashed with was none other than Nate Jacobs—his soon-to-be roommate.

The dormitory hall buzzed with the energy of move-in day, a cacophony of shuffling boxes, shouted instructions, and the occasional crash of something fragile being dropped. Parents bickered over furniture placement, wide-eyed freshmen struggled to find their rooms, and the air smelled faintly of fresh paint and sweat. Y/N navigated through the chaos with a box tucked under his arm, its contents rattling with every step. His other hand gripped the edges tightly—his track gear was in there, and he wasn't about to let it spill everywhere.

When he reached the door to his room, he paused, his gaze sweeping over the space. It was compact, the two beds crammed against opposite walls, a small shared desk wedged between, and a closet barely big enough to hold his shoes, let alone his wardrobe. Functional, sure, but it was far from luxurious. Still, Y/N's mind was already buzzing with ideas for rearranging the space as he crossed the threshold and set his box down near one of the beds.

"Guess this'll have to do," he muttered to himself, surveying the drab beige walls with mild disinterest.

As he began unpacking, the sound of heavy footsteps thudding down the hallway pulled his attention. The steps grew louder, and then the door creaked open wider behind him. Y/N turned, his curiosity fading into sharp recognition when he saw who was standing there.

Nate Jacobs.

The guy from earlier—the walking brick wall in a football jersey. He stood in the doorway with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his sharp features framed by the dim light from the hallway. His hoodie hung loosely over his broad frame, but the edge of his jersey peeked out, making it impossible not to identify him as "QB." Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither said anything.

"Oh, great," Y/N said, breaking the silence as he dropped a shirt onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh. "It's you."

Nate's brow furrowed, his face twisting in mild disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath as he stepped inside. He dropped his bag with a heavy thud onto the empty bed opposite Y/N's, rubbing the back of his neck. "Of all the people on campus..."

Y/N leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms as his lips curved into a smirk. "Didn't think the universe hated me enough to make you my roommate, but hey, here we are."

Nate shot him a look, his irritation obvious. "Trust me, I'm not thrilled either. Last thing I need is to share a room with some loudmouth track star who doesn't know when to shut up."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Loudmouth? Big talk coming from the guy who growled at me like a pissed-off grizzly bear earlier."

"You were the one running your mouth first," Nate countered, his jaw tightening as he crossed his arms.

Y/N straightened up, walking to his stack of boxes with a casual air. "Right," he said, tossing a look over his shoulder. "And you were just minding your own business, Mr. 'Maybe you should watch where you're standing.'"

Nate scoffed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Look, let's just get through this without killing each other, alright? I've got enough on my plate without you adding to it."

Y/N paused, one hand resting on the box he was about to open. For a moment, his smirk softened into something more contemplative. "Fine by me," he said lightly. "As long as you don't turn this place into a football locker room, we're good."

"Deal," Nate replied, though his tone carried the faintest hint of skepticism.

Satisfied, Y/N returned to his unpacking, pulling out a stack of books and arranging them on the small shelf above his desk. "You're not gonna do the whole 'alpha male' thing in here, are you?" he asked without looking up.

Nate frowned, clearly caught off guard by the question. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You know," Y/N said, waving a hand in Nate's direction without turning around. "All the posturing, random yelling, punching walls when your team loses. That sort of thing."

Nate's glare could have cut through steel. "Do I look like the kind of guy who punches walls?"

Y/N turned to face him, his gaze raking over Nate's broad frame. "Honestly? Yeah, you kinda do."

Nate opened his mouth to argue but stopped, clearly deciding it wasn't worth the effort. With a low growl, he turned back to his duffel, pulling out a stack of neatly folded shirts.

Y/N chuckled under his breath as he returned to his own unpacking. "Relax, QB," he said with a grin. "I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine. Fair enough?"

Nate didn't look up from his bag, but his response was low and clipped. "Fair enough."

For a while, the room was filled with the sound of zippers, rustling papers, and shuffling clothes. The tension between them hadn't disappeared, but it had simmered down enough for them to coexist—for now.

As Y/N placed a framed photo on his desk, he threw a sly glance in Nate's direction. "By the way," he added, his tone casual but teasing, "you should work on your comebacks. 'Loudmouth track star' isn't exactly cutting it."

Nate's jaw tightened again, his hands pausing mid-fold. But this time, he didn't rise to the bait.

"Welcome to the dorm, Nate," Y/N said with a grin, leaning back against his desk. "This is gonna be... fun."

Nate didn't respond, but as he turned back to his bag, the faintest twitch of a smirk crossed his lips—though it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

The sun hung high in the sky, its relentless heat radiating off the manicured grass of the university's sports complex. Sweat clung to the air, sticking to every athlete who dared brave the afternoon heat. The track team had just wrapped up their grueling practice session, their laughter and chatter filling the space near the bleachers.

Y/N stood in the center of his group, casually stretching out his legs. His running shorts were impossibly short, exposing the full expanse of his toned thighs, every muscle seemingly sculpted to perfection. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, catching the sunlight as he leaned into a stretch, completely unbothered by the attention his appearance drew. Y/N was always confident, effortlessly commanding the room—or in this case, the field—without even trying.

Not far away, the football team was mid-drill, their coach barking orders as they ran through their routines. The rhythmic thuds of cleats on turf filled the air, accompanied by the occasional grunt of effort. During a water break, Jake and Ryan, two of Nate's teammates, wandered toward the sideline, their eyes drifting to the scene by the bleachers.

Jake nudged Ryan, nodding toward Y/N. "Man, look at those shorts," he said with a snicker. "I swear, are those even legal? Dude's got more leg on display than half the cheer squad."

Ryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Right? He's just out here showing off. Like, we get it—you've got legs. Congrats or whatever."

Standing a few feet away, Nate overheard the exchange. He rolled his eyes, tossing a football absently into the air and catching it. Normally, he tuned out their locker-room banter, but today, for some reason, he couldn't resist chiming in.

"Maybe he thinks the shorts make him faster," Nate said, his tone deadpan as he spun the football in his hand. "Aerodynamics or something."

Jake laughed, emboldened by Nate's comment. "Yeah, or he just likes the attention. Look at him. Bet he spends more time flexing in the mirror than running on the track."

Unbeknownst to the trio, Y/N's sharp ears had picked up every word of their conversation. His smirk widened as he straightened up, casually brushing a hand over his shorts as he turned to face them.

"Aw," Y/N called out, his voice sweetly mocking as he strode toward them with deliberate ease. "I didn't realize the football team was so interested in my thighs. Should I start charging for the view, or are compliments enough?"

Jake and Ryan froze mid-laugh, their faces flushing with embarrassment. They exchanged panicked glances, unsure how to respond.

Jake stammered first, trying to recover. "W-We weren't—"

"Oh no, please," Y/N interrupted, holding up a hand as he stepped closer, his smirk wicked. "Don't stop. It's flattering, really. I had no idea my legs were such a hot topic. Maybe next time, though, you could focus on your drills instead of gossiping like high school mean girls."

Ryan muttered defensively, "We weren't gossiping—"

"Sure you weren't," Y/N cut in smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "By the way, if you're gonna talk about someone, maybe be a little less obvious. Your whispers are about as subtle as a marching band."

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He looked like a fish gasping for air, which only made Y/N's smirk grow.

Finally, Y/N's attention shifted to Nate, who was still standing there, the football frozen in his hand. "And you," Y/N said, his tone growing sharper as he cocked his head. "I'm surprised, QB. You had a whole two cents to throw in, but it's funny—I don't remember asking for your opinion."

Nate blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He wasn't used to being directly challenged, especially not by someone like Y/N. His faint smirk faded into a defensive glare. "I didn't say anything worse than what they said."

Y/N tilted his head, pretending to consider this. "True. But unlike them, I thought you had a spine. Guess I was wrong."

Behind Y/N, the track team, who had been watching the interaction unfold with barely contained glee, erupted into muffled laughter. Jake and Ryan didn't dare respond, their embarrassment palpable.

Satisfied with their stunned silence, Y/N tossed one last smirk over his shoulder as he sauntered back toward his team. "Don't worry, boys," he called out breezily. "Not everyone can pull off confidence and shorts. Better luck next time."

Jake muttered under his breath, "Dude's savage."

Nate didn't respond, though his grip on the football tightened. His gaze lingered on Y/N as he rejoined his group, laughing easily with his teammates as if nothing had happened.

Something about Y/N got under Nate's skin, and it wasn't just the sass. It was the sharp wit, the unapologetic confidence, and the way Y/N had absolutely no fear of putting him in his place. It irritated Nate—but it also intrigued him, in a way he couldn't quite shake.

"Jacobs!" the coach yelled, jolting Nate from his thoughts. "Back on the field!"

Nate turned sharply, tossing the football to a teammate with more force than necessary. But as he jogged back to join the drills, his mind stayed stubbornly stuck on Y/N, replaying the encounter over and over.

The silence between Y/N and Nate had become suffocating, stretching across days with no sign of breaking. The tension hung heavy in their shared dorm room, in the classrooms, even on the fields where they practiced their respective sports. Y/N had made it abundantly clear—he wasn't interested in speaking to Nate, or even acknowledging his existence.

For Nate, the lack of interaction was an unfamiliar and deeply unsettling feeling. He wasn't used to being ignored, especially not like this. It gnawed at him in ways he couldn't fully explain, like a splinter lodged too deep to reach but impossible to forget.

It started off as the first rays of dawn spilled into the room, bathing it in a warm orange glow. Nate lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying their last conversation on the field. Y/N, as usual, was up early, moving quietly around the room as he pulled on a fitted t-shirt over his toned frame. His movements were precise, methodical, and entirely devoid of unnecessary noise—a courtesy Nate was beginning to resent.

As Y/N grabbed his backpack and water bottle from the desk, he glanced briefly at his phone, scrolling through notifications. He didn't so much as glance in Nate's direction.

"Morning," Nate offered, his voice low and tentative, breaking the stillness.

Y/N didn't respond. The only sound that followed was the click of the door as it shut behind him.

Nate sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. It was going to be another long day.

By the time class started, the lecture hall buzzed with muted chatter as students trickled in, taking their seats and pulling out notebooks or laptops. Nate entered behind Jake and Ryan, scanning the rows instinctively until his eyes landed on Y/N. He was seated a few rows ahead, angled slightly toward a classmate he was chatting with.

Without realizing it, Nate chose a seat a few rows back, perfectly positioned for an unobstructed view.

Y/N sat with one leg crossed over the other, his notebook balanced on his knee as he scribbled notes in the margins. Every now and then, he leaned toward the person next to him, whispering something that earned a quiet laugh. Nate couldn't hear the words, but he didn't need to. The easy smile on Y/N's face, the relaxed way he carried himself—it was a stark contrast to the cold shoulder he'd been giving Nate.

Nate's eyes lingered. The way Y/N tapped his pen against the desk, the slight furrow of his brow when he focused, the unconscious habit of brushing his fingers through his hair when he stretched—it was all maddeningly distracting.

"You okay, man?" Jake asked, nudging Nate's elbow.

"Yeah," Nate muttered, tearing his gaze away and forcing himself to focus on the professor's droning voice. But even as he tried to take notes, his eyes kept drifting back to Y/N.

As the heat of the afternoon sun bore down on the sports complex, baking the grass and filling the air with the faint scent of sweat and turf. Nate was supposed to be focused on running passing drills, but his attention kept slipping to the track just beyond the field.

Y/N was sprinting, his powerful strides eating up the distance effortlessly. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, and the way he slowed to a stop after his lap left Nate momentarily frozen.

"Jacobs!" the coach's voice barked, snapping Nate out of his thoughts.

"Focus!"

"Yeah, sorry, Coach," Nate muttered, catching the football mid-air and throwing it with a little more force than necessary.

As he jogged back into position, his eyes darted toward the track again. Y/N was standing by his team, his chest heaving as he took a long swig from his water bottle. One of his teammates said something that made him laugh—a loud, easy sound that made Nate's chest tighten.

It was infuriating how completely oblivious Y/N seemed to his presence.

By the two made into the dorm, it was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words. Y/N entered first, tossing his bag onto his bed without so much as a glance in Nate's direction. Nate followed, shutting the door behind him with a little more force than necessary.

For a while, the only sound was the faint rustling of Y/N unpacking his gear. Nate leaned against the door, his eyes fixed on him. The silence was unbearable.

"Are you ever gonna talk to me again?" Nate asked finally, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife.

Y/N didn't even pause. "Didn't think there was anything left to say."

Nate's jaw tightened. "You're really this pissed about what I said on the field?"

Y/N snapped his head up, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Pissed? No, Nate. I'm disappointed. I thought you were at least capable of being decent, but clearly, I overestimated you."

Nate frowned, stepping closer. "I was joking!"

Y/N shook his head, his voice calm but biting. "Oh, I got the joke. It's just not funny coming from someone who doesn't know the first thing about respect."

Nate opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Y/N had already turned away, pulling a fresh shirt from his drawer and pointedly ignoring him.

A knock on the door broke the tension. Y/N walked past Nate to open it, revealing one of their neighbors leaning casually against the frame.

"Hey, you two coming to the frat party tonight?" the guy asked.

Y/N glanced over his shoulder at Nate, his tone dismissive. "I'll be there," he said. "Can't say about him."

Nate bristled. "I'm coming too," he said firmly, stepping forward.

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to the neighbor with a small smirk. "Guess we'll see you there."

The door closed, leaving them alone again. Y/N grabbed his things and left without another word, the silence in the room now suffocating. Nate stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, wrestling with his frustration—and something far more complicated that he couldn't quite name.

The bass reverberated through the cramped frat house, shaking the walls and drowning out any chance of meaningful conversation. The air was thick with the mingling scents of cheap beer, sweat, and an overzealous amount of cologne. Multicolored lights pulsed in time with the music, casting flickering shadows over the packed rooms. People were crammed into every corner, laughing, drinking, and dancing, their movements chaotic but full of life.

In the middle of it all, Y/N commanded the makeshift dance floor in the living room. He wore a cropped black graphic tee emblazoned with a bold design, the hem cutting off just enough to reveal his toned stomach. His low-waist black jeans hugged his hips perfectly, emphasizing his every movement. The outfit, combined with his easy confidence, made it impossible not to watch him.

Y/N moved like the music was a part of him, his arms swaying above his head, his hips rolling effortlessly in time with the beat. His friends surrounded him, hyping him up with loud cheers and playful shouts as he spun and struck teasing poses. A playful grin danced on his lips as he leaned into the energy, the kind of carefree charisma that lit up the entire room.

Across the space, Nate stood with a group of his football teammates near the beer pong table. A red Solo cup dangled from his hand, barely touched, as his gaze kept drifting toward the dance floor. Specifically, toward Y/N.

"What's got you so distracted, man?" Jake nudged Nate's arm, his voice cutting through the din.

"Nothing," Nate muttered, his tone clipped, though his eyes remained locked on Y/N.

Jake smirked but didn't press.

The situation shifted suddenly when a tall guy with dyed hair and a silver chain stepped confidently into Y/N's circle. The stranger's movements were smooth, his intentions clear as he joined Y/N in the rhythm of the music. He leaned closer, his hand brushing Y/N's hip as their steps aligned.

Nate's grip on his cup tightened, the cheap plastic creaking under the pressure.

Jake, noticing, glanced toward the dance floor. "Looks like your roommate's got himself an admirer," he said with a teasing grin.

Nate didn't respond, but his jaw clenched as he watched the stranger say something to Y/N, earning a laugh. Y/N threw his head back, his carefree laugh cutting through the music as he spun into the guy's arms. Their faces were close now—too close.

An unfamiliar irritation churned in Nate's chest, sharp and insistent. It wasn't jealousy. It couldn't be. He didn't even like Y/N like that. So why did seeing him with someone else feel like a punch to the gut?

"You good, man?" Jake asked again, his tone more curious now.

"I'm fine," Nate said shortly, his voice harsh as he tore his gaze away. He tipped his cup back and took a long swig, trying to focus on anything else.

But his resolve faltered almost immediately. His eyes found their way back to the dance floor, where Y/N now had his hands in the air, his body leaning into the guy's. Their movements were perfectly synced, like they'd been dancing together for years. The crowd around them seemed to blur, leaving only the two of them in Nate's focus.

"What's your problem with him, anyway?" Ryan chimed in, noticing Nate's growing tension. "You've been weird about Y/N since day one."

"I don't have a problem," Nate snapped, the words coming out sharper than intended.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Right. And the way you're glaring at that guy right now is totally normal."

Nate scowled, his knuckles whitening around his cup. "I'm not glaring."

"Sure," Ryan said with a smirk. "Whatever you say, QB."

Nate ignored them, his attention snapping back to Y/N just as he threw his arms around the stranger's neck, laughing again. The easy intimacy of it—the way Y/N could just be himself, confident and unbothered—grated on Nate's nerves.

It wasn't just the dance. It was the way someone else was getting Y/N's attention, his laughter, his energy. It was the way Nate couldn't seem to draw that out of him anymore, no matter how hard he tried.

Before he could stop himself, Nate muttered under his breath, "What's so great about that guy, anyway?"

Jake burst out laughing. "Oh, this is gold. Jacobs is jealous."

"Shut up," Nate growled, shoving Jake lightly, though his flushed face betrayed him.

Jake kept laughing, but Nate didn't care. His focus was entirely on Y/N, who seemed to sense Nate's eyes on him. Y/N glanced up, his gaze locking with Nate's for the briefest moment.

Y/N's expression was unreadable, but the smirk that tugged at his lips wasn't. It was sly, teasing, and far too knowing, as if Y/N could see right through him.

Nate's stomach twisted.

Y/N turned back to his dance partner, but not before throwing Nate a look that seemed to say, I see you watching.

Scowling, Nate tipped his cup back again, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He tried for the rest of the night to focus on his teammates, on the beer pong game, on anything other than Y/N. But no matter what he did, his thoughts kept circling back to him.

And that damn smirk.

Soon the party had shifted into its final stages, the once-deafening music now muted, replaced by the hum of lingering conversations and occasional bursts of laughter. The crowd had thinned, but pockets of energy still buzzed throughout the house. In the corner near the door, Y/N leaned heavily against the wall, his cheeks flushed, his eyes slightly glassy from one too many drinks. Despite his clear intoxication, he retained that magnetic, carefree air, laughing easily at something the guy next to him said.

The guy—a tall, confident-looking student with a cocky smirk—leaned in close, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered something that made Y/N giggle. Y/N swayed slightly, his balance unsteady, and the guy placed an arm around his waist, guiding him with ease. Y/N leaned into the touch, his body language loose and trusting as the guy began steering him toward the front door.

From a few feet away, Nate watched the scene unfold, his grip tightening on the edge of his Solo cup. For the past ten minutes, he had been quietly observing, his irritation building with every second. Jake and Ryan stood nearby, but their banter barely registered as Nate's attention remained fixed on Y/N.

When he saw the guy's arm slide more firmly around Y/N's waist, something inside Nate snapped.

"Where are you going?" Nate's voice cut through the air as he stepped forward, his tone sharp and commanding.

Both Y/N and the guy turned to face him, the sudden interruption catching them off guard. Y/N blinked, momentarily confused, before a lazy smirk spread across his face. "Hey, QB. Didn't know you cared," he drawled, his words slurred just enough to betray how drunk he was. He leaned more heavily against the guy, his body swaying slightly.

Nate ignored Y/N's teasing and turned his full attention to the other guy, his piercing gaze hard and unwavering. "You can leave," Nate said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "He's not going anywhere with you."

The guy frowned, holding up his hands defensively. "What's your problem, man? We're just leaving. It's not a big deal."

"It is if he's drunk," Nate snapped back, stepping closer. His voice was low and edged with a quiet intensity that made the guy falter. "Find someone else to bother."

Y/N chuckled, clearly amused by the exchange. "Relax, Nate," he said, his voice thick with amusement and alcohol. "I can handle myself. Not my first rodeo."

"You're wasted," Nate retorted, his eyes narrowing as he reached out and gently but firmly pulled Y/N away from the guy's hold. His hand rested on Y/N's arm, steadying him as Y/N stumbled slightly. "You don't even know this dude."

Y/N looked up at Nate, his expression shifting to one of annoyance and mild curiosity. "Wow," he said, his tone biting. "Since when are you my babysitter?"

"I'm not," Nate shot back through gritted teeth. "But I'm also not letting you do something stupid."

The guy, clearly irritated now, stepped forward. "Look, man, it's none of your business—"

"It is now," Nate interrupted, his voice dangerously low. His glare alone was enough to make the guy hesitate. "Go."

The guy looked between Nate and Y/N, his frustration evident, before scoffing and throwing up his hands. "Whatever, dude. Your problem now." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the thinning crowd.

Y/N pulled his arm free from Nate's grip, his movements unsteady but deliberate as he glared at him. "Seriously, what is your deal?" he demanded. "I was having fun."

"You call that fun?" Nate shot back, crossing his arms. "Getting blackout drunk and going home with some random guy?"

Y/N smirked, but it was weaker now, less sure. "Jealous, QB?" he teased, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Nate's jaw tightened, his gaze darting away for a moment as he struggled to find the right words. "No," he said finally, though even to himself, it sounded unconvincing. "I just don't want to deal with you getting into trouble and me having to explain it to the RA."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as his smirk returned, sharper this time. "Right. Totally about the RA," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "and not because you can't stand seeing me with someone else."

Nate's eyes snapped back to Y/N's, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, the silence stretching between them thick with tension.

"You're drunk," Nate said finally, his voice softer now, almost reluctant. "Let's just get you back to the dorm."

Y/N sighed heavily, leaning back against the wall. "Fine, QB," he muttered. "But only because these shoes are killing me."

Nate rolled his eyes but stepped closer, steadying Y/N with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Come on."

As they made their way out of the frat house, Y/N mumbled something incoherent about his shoes and the terrible music, his head lolling slightly against Nate's shoulder. Nate kept his grip steady, his chest tightening in a way he couldn't quite explain.

It wasn't about the RA. He knew that much.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop pretending otherwise.

The dormitory door slammed open with a loud bang, the sound echoing down the quiet hallway as Nate strode inside, his steps purposeful and heavy. Draped over his broad shoulder like an unruly sack of potatoes was Y/N, who groaned loudly, his legs kicking weakly in protest. Despite his best efforts to wriggle free, Nate held him firmly, his strength making any escape attempts laughable.

Y/N had made a valiant, if poorly coordinated, attempt to run away halfway back to the dorm, weaving unsteadily down the sidewalk in a way that had Nate's patience snapping. Without a word, Nate had hoisted him up with an ease that left no room for negotiation.

"Put me down, Nate!" Y/N shouted, his voice muffled against Nate's back as he bounced slightly with each determined step. "I don't need your help!"

"You're drunk," Nate replied flatly, his tone devoid of amusement as he kicked the dorm room door shut behind them with a sharp thud. "And you almost ran into traffic, so yeah, you kinda do."

Y/N let out an exaggerated groan, his fists weakly thudding against Nate's back in a half-hearted attempt to protest. "I hate you," he grumbled, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol still coursing through his system.

"Sure you do," Nate replied dryly, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he moved across the room. Despite his curt tone, he lowered Y/N onto his bed with far more care than he wanted to admit, making sure the other boy landed softly.

Y/N sat up almost immediately, swaying slightly as he jabbed a wobbly finger in Nate's direction. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and defiance, though his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes robbed it of any real weight. "I don't need your hero complex right now, okay? I can take care of myself."

Nate crossed his arms, his broad frame looming over Y/N as he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Really? You couldn't even walk in a straight line five minutes ago."

Y/N scowled, his hands fumbling with the hem of his crop top as he attempted to smooth it out and reclaim some semblance of dignity. "Doesn't mean I needed you to carry me like I'm some damsel in distress," he shot back, his voice petulant. "I'm fine."

"Fine?" Nate repeated, his tone heavy with disbelief. He stepped closer, leaning down until they were at eye level. His piercing gaze locked onto Y/N's, refusing to let him look away. "You're a sweaty, drunk mess who tried to ditch me in the middle of the street. That's not fine, Y/N."

Y/N opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. The closeness between them was almost suffocating, the intensity in Nate's expression enough to leave him momentarily speechless.

"Exactly," Nate said after a beat, his voice softer but no less firm. "Now sit still and stop trying to act like you've got this handled."

Y/N opened his mouth, ready to fire back with another slurred but defiant retort, but before he could get a word out, Nate moved. In one swift motion, he reached forward and tugged Y/N's crop top over his head, leaving the smaller boy momentarily stunned.

"Hey!" Y/N squawked, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to grab the shirt back. His movements were clumsy and ineffective, his balance still shaky from the alcohol. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting you out of this," Nate replied matter-of-factly, his tone steady and unbothered. He held the damp, sweat-soaked crop top between two fingers as if it were offensive before tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor. "You're gonna feel like crap in the morning if you stay in it."

For a moment, Y/N could only blink at him, his brain scrambling to process what had just happened. He crossed his arms over his now-bare chest, his cheeks flushing a deep pink—not entirely from the alcohol. "You could've asked, you know," he muttered, his tone more flustered than annoyed.

Nate smirked faintly, crossing the room to rummage through Y/N's drawer. "Yeah, because you totally would've cooperated," he shot back, pulling out an oversized t-shirt that looked soft and well-worn.

Y/N glared at him, the heat in his cheeks only intensifying as Nate approached with the clean shirt. "I could've done it myself," he muttered, but the bite in his tone was weak.

"Sure you could've," Nate replied dryly, kneeling slightly to pull the shirt over Y/N's head with surprising gentleness. His hands brushed against Y/N's skin as he adjusted the hem, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N froze for a split second, his heart racing inexplicably as Nate leaned back to survey his work.

"There," Nate said, straightening up. His tone was softer now, almost satisfied. "Better."

Y/N shifted on the bed, his arms dropping to his sides as he glanced down at the oversized tee now hanging loosely on his frame. He tried to ignore the way his pulse was pounding, instead narrowing his eyes at Nate in an attempt to regain some semblance of control.

"Great," he muttered sarcastically, crossing his arms again. "You've played dress-up. Now leave me alone."

But the way his voice wavered slightly at the end betrayed him, and Nate's smirk deepened just enough for Y/N to notice.

Nate ignored Y/N's protests, dropping to a crouch at the foot of the bed and reaching for his shoes. The laces were tangled, no doubt from Y/N's stumbling attempts to leave the party earlier. Nate tugged at the knots, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, his expression calm despite the grumbled complaints coming from above.

"Seriously?" Y/N said, his tone a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. He tried to sit up straighter, wobbling slightly as he propped himself up on his elbows. "I can handle that."

"Uh-huh," Nate replied without looking up, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he slipped off one shoe, followed quickly by the other.

Y/N scowled, his brows knitting together. "I'm not completely useless, you know," he muttered.

Nate finally glanced up, his piercing eyes locking on Y/N's. "Right. Because you've been handling everything so well tonight," he quipped, his tone dry. Then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, he added, "Do you wanna try taking your pants off yourself, or are you gonna make me do that too?"

Y/N's face turned a deep scarlet, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he sputtered, his voice pitching higher than usual.

"Relax," Nate said, rolling his eyes as he reached for Y/N's legs, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed with little effort. "It's not like that."

Y/N froze, momentarily too stunned to respond as Nate's hands moved to the waistband of his jeans. With a flick of his fingers, Nate unbuttoned them, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Nate worked with practiced efficiency, sliding the jeans down Y/N's legs and tossing them aside in one smooth motion. Left in nothing but his snug boxer briefs, Y/N instinctively crossed his legs, his flushed cheeks now impossibly red.

"Happy now?" Y/N muttered, avoiding Nate's gaze as he tugged at the hem of the oversized shirt Nate had put on him earlier.

Nate didn't respond immediately. He stood, his full height towering over Y/N, and for a moment, his gaze lingered. It wasn't just exasperation anymore—there was something softer in his expression, something unspoken that made Y/N's heart stutter in his chest.

"There," Nate said finally, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. "You're good."

Y/N looked up at him, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tried to ignore the heat rising in his face. "You're really annoying, you know that?" he mumbled, though there was no real malice in his tone.

Nate smirked, taking a small step closer. The corner of his mouth quirked up in that infuriatingly confident way, but his voice carried a hint of warmth. "Yeah," he said, his tone low, "but you'll thank me in the morning."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting Nate's gaze for the first time. "Doubt it," he shot back, his voice softer than he intended.

For a moment, the air between them shifted. The playful tension from earlier dissolved into something heavier, more charged. Nate didn't move, and neither did Y/N, their eyes locked in a silent exchange that seemed to stretch on forever.

The sound of Nate's steady breathing filled the small space between them, his presence overwhelming. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from him, his own pulse racing as he fought to keep his expression neutral.

Nate leaned forward slightly, his smirk softening into something more tentative, more vulnerable. Y/N held his breath, his gaze flickering to Nate's lips before quickly snapping back to his eyes.

But then Nate straightened, stepping back with a barely audible sigh. "Get some sleep," he said, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

Y/N didn't respond, his heart still pounding as he watched Nate retreat to his side of the room. The unspoken tension hung in the air long after the moment passed, leaving Y/N staring at the ceiling and wondering why he couldn't shake the way Nate had looked at him.

The dormitory bathroom was dimly lit, its harsh fluorescent lights buzzing faintly in the stillness. The quiet was broken only by the sound of Y/N brushing his teeth, the rhythmic scrape of bristles against enamel filling the otherwise empty space. He leaned lazily against the sink, still groggy from the remnants of sleep and the unsettling memory of a strange, vivid dream he couldn't quite shake.

After rinsing his mouth, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear the lingering haze in his mind. Grabbing a towel, he dabbed at his skin, his thoughts elsewhere. When he turned to leave, he froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat.

Nate stood in the doorway, his broad figure filling the frame, one shoulder casually propped against the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, the muscles in his forearms tense, and his expression unreadable. He didn't move, blocking the exit as his piercing eyes bore into Y/N.

"Jesus, Nate," Y/N said, his voice muffled as he tossed the towel aside onto the counter. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing here?"

Nate shrugged, his eyes flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto Y/N. "Bathroom's on the way to my room," he said casually, his voice steady but lacking its usual bite. "Didn't know I needed permission to stand here."

Y/N narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the sink. "Right. Because loitering outside the bathroom at midnight is totally normal behavior."

Nate didn't reply immediately. Instead, he studied Y/N with an intensity that made the air between them feel heavier. The silence lingered too long, his gaze dipping slightly before snapping back up.

Y/N's expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he straightened slightly. The teasing edge in his voice was gone when he spoke again. "Alright, spill. Why did you really stop me from leaving with that guy at the party?"

Nate's posture stiffened, his arms dropping slightly as he stood up straighter. His jaw worked for a moment before he finally spoke. "I already told you," he said, his voice clipped. "You were drunk. You could've done something stupid."

"Uh-huh," Y/N said slowly, tilting his head as if trying to see through Nate's words. His tone was skeptical, almost mocking. "And I'm supposed to believe it had nothing to do with... jealousy?"

Nate let out a bark of laughter, but it sounded forced, too sharp to be genuine. "Jealousy?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Trust me, I wasn't jealous. You're not that special."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at that, his lips curving into a sly smirk. "Oh, really?" he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Then why were you staring daggers at him all night?"

"I wasn't," Nate snapped, his response too quick, too defensive.

Y/N pushed off the sink, taking a step closer. The distance between them was shrinking, and with it, the tension in the room thickened. "You sure about that, QB?" Y/N asked, his voice low, teasing. "Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like the idea of me with someone else."

Nate's jaw tightened further, his fists flexing at his sides as if he were trying to keep them still. "Don't flatter yourself," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm straight, okay? You're not my type. At all."

Y/N paused, studying him closely, his smirk fading into something softer, more curious. His eyes searched Nate's face, lingering on the tight line of his mouth and the tension in his brow. "Right," Y/N said finally, his tone quieter but no less pointed. "You're straight. That's why you've been acting weird around me since day one."

Nate stepped forward, his height casting a shadow over Y/N as he closed the remaining space between them. "I'm not acting weird," he said firmly, his voice lowering. "You're the one making this into something it's not."

Y/N didn't back down, his chin tilting slightly as he met Nate's gaze head-on. For a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the charged silence pressing in on both of them.

"Okay," Y/N said finally, his voice calm but tinged with something knowing. "If that's what you need to tell yourself." He moved past Nate, his shoulder brushing against him as he stopped at the doorway. Y/N paused, glancing over his shoulder with a faint, almost teasing smile. "But just so you know, people who are totally straight don't usually get this worked up over their 'not-my-type' roommate."

Nate didn't move, his fists clenching at his sides as he watched Y/N disappear down the hall. His chest felt tight, each breath harder to take as Y/N's words echoed in his head.

I'm straight, he told himself, gripping the edge of the counter as he turned toward the mirror.

But as he stared at his own reflection, the doubt that flickered in his eyes told a different story. For the first time, Nate wasn't sure what he believed anymore.

The countertops were cluttered with stray utensils and empty mugs, evidence of late nights and hurried mornings. The air was thick with the mingling aroma of freshly brewed coffee and whatever leftovers Nate had just pulled from the fridge.

Y/N stood by the counter, the picture of effortless ease. He leaned back casually, his mug cradled in one hand as steam curled lazily upward. His other hand drummed a slow, steady rhythm against the counter's edge, as though he had all the time in the world. His eyes flicked to Nate, who was bent over, half inside the fridge, rummaging noisily.

"Move," Nate said abruptly, his tone more gruff than polite as he turned, balancing a carton of milk and an apple in one hand. His shoulder bumped Y/N's in an impatient nudge.

Y/N, unfazed, merely smirked. He didn't shift an inch. "Say 'please,'" he drawled, his voice teasing, laced with just enough challenge to be infuriating.

Nate huffed audibly, clearly not in the mood for games. He stepped closer without hesitation, closing the already minimal gap between them. His broad chest brushed against Y/N's back as he reached over the counter to grab the half-empty box of cereal perched precariously near the edge.

The contact was brief but electric. Y/N's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly, a small hitch in his breath betraying him before he quickly smoothed over the moment with a practiced veneer of nonchalance. He tilted his head just slightly, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Careful, QB," Y/N said lightly, his tone deliberately playful. "Buy me dinner first."

Nate recoiled as if burned, retreating a step too quickly. "You're annoying," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and clipped. He kept his gaze fixed on the counter, avoiding Y/N's eyes entirely as he busied himself pouring cereal into a bowl with far more focus than the task required.

But the flush creeping up Nate's neck was impossible to miss. A faint pink dusted his cheeks, standing out against his otherwise stoic expression.

Y/N noticed, of course. He always noticed. A slow, self-satisfied grin spread across his face as he turned back to his coffee, taking a deliberate sip. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he pretended not to notice Nate's embarrassment.

The gym was quieter than usual, its usual cacophony of clanging weights and rhythmic grunts reduced to a distant hum. The faint smell of rubber mats and chalk lingered in the air, mingling with the sharper scent of sweat. Y/N lay stretched out on the bench press, his fingers curling around the cold metal bar, the plates on either side gleaming faintly under the fluorescent lights.

Nate's shadow loomed over him, breaking his focus. "Need a spot?" he asked, his tone casual but carrying a slight edge, the way it always did when he was talking to Y/N.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His lips quirked into a lazy smirk. "Didn't know you cared."

Nate crossed his arms, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't drop the bar on your face," he shot back, stepping closer. His hands hovered just above the bar, ready but not intrusive.

With a small huff of amusement, Y/N settled back into position and began his reps. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, muscles contracting and releasing as he powered through each press. The bar creaked faintly under the strain, but Y/N's focus didn't waver. Nate, however, wasn't as disciplined.

Despite himself, Nate's gaze kept slipping—drifting over the line of Y/N's arms, the way his biceps flexed with each upward thrust, the tautness of his shoulders under the weight. The faint sheen of sweat on Y/N's skin caught the light, highlighting the sharp lines and curves of his body. It was distracting, far more than Nate would ever admit, even to himself.

"You gonna stare all day, or are you actually spotting me?" Y/N teased, his voice breathless but carrying that familiar sharpness. He didn't even look up, but the smirk in his tone was unmistakable.

Nate jerked slightly, caught off guard. A faint flush crept up his neck, and he quickly averted his eyes, his focus snapping back to the bar. "Focus on the bar," he muttered, his voice tighter than usual.

Y/N chuckled, a low, knowing sound that Nate found both infuriating and—he'd never admit it—amusing. With a controlled motion, Y/N lowered the bar back onto the rack, the clanging sound reverberating through the gym. He sat up, rolling his shoulders and reaching for his water bottle, his grin still firmly in place.

"Whatever you say, coach," Y/N said, the words dripping with playful mockery.

Nate didn't reply right away, his jaw tightening as he busied himself adjusting a nearby weight. He could still feel the heat creeping up his face and silently cursed himself for it. Meanwhile, Y/N leaned back against the bench, casually stretching his arms overhead, his grin widening as he watched Nate's back stiffen ever so slightly. The unspoken tension between them hung in the air, heavy but electric, as Nate fought to maintain his composure.

"You done admiring me, or should I grab the dumbbells next?" Y/N quipped, breaking the silence with another laugh.

"Shut up, Y/N," Nate muttered, but his voice lacked the usual bite, and Y/N only laughed harder.

The library was nearly deserted, the silence broken only by the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of paper. Rows of bookshelves stretched out in every direction, casting long shadows across the polished wood floors. At one of the large study tables near the back, Y/N and Nate sat side by side, an unintentional arrangement born from choosing the same spot at nearly the same time. Neither had moved, both too stubborn to concede the table to the other.

Y/N was sprawled comfortably in his chair, a picture of effortless confidence. A few loose papers and an open notebook were scattered in front of him, but he wasn't exactly focused on them. Instead, he leaned forward to grab a book from the far corner of the table, the movement causing his cropped hoodie to ride up just enough to expose a strip of skin along his waist.

Nate noticed. He hadn't meant to, but his eyes flicked downward, caught for a moment too long on the sliver of skin and the faint shadow of muscle underneath. His jaw tightened as he quickly looked away, his fingers tapping out a random rhythm against the keyboard of his laptop, but it was too late.

Y/N straightened up slowly, his sharp eyes catching Nate's fleeting glance. A smirk spread across his lips, equal parts amusement and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, the motion making his shirt ride even higher.

"See something you like?" Y/N asked, his voice low and teasing, the tone carrying just enough edge to make Nate freeze.

Nate's ears turned bright red, a telltale sign he was flustered despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. "Your shirt's just... short," he mumbled, awkwardly gesturing toward it with one hand, his eyes resolutely fixed on the table now.

Y/N's smirk only deepened. He tilted his head, leaning slightly toward Nate as if to close the already narrow space between them. "Yeah? Guess that's why you can't stop staring." His tone was light, almost casual, but there was a deliberate weight behind his words that made Nate's discomfort palpable.

Nate cleared his throat, his fingers suddenly flying across his keyboard with an intensity that suggested he was trying to summon every ounce of focus he could muster. "Focus on your work," he muttered, his voice gruff. He didn't look up, but the slight jiggling of his leg under the table gave him away, a nervous tell he couldn't quite control.

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound barely louder than a whisper in the quiet library. "Whatever you say, Nate," he drawled, leaning back even farther in his chair, his arms still crossed. He watched Nate out of the corner of his eye, clearly enjoying the way the quarterback's posture grew more rigid with every passing second.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Nate stepped into the room, steam trailing after him like a veil. His hair was damp, darkened by water, and clinging messily to his forehead. A towel sat low on his hips, barely secured, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones and the lean muscle of his torso. Droplets of water traced erratic paths down his chest and abs, glinting under the soft glow of the desk lamp in the dim dorm room.

Y/N, seated at his desk with his laptop open, barely registered the movement at first. But as Nate leaned casually against the doorframe, the sudden presence was impossible to ignore. Y/N's gaze flicked up instinctively, his eyebrows shooting upward in a mixture of surprise and exasperation.

"What?" Nate asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence, though the smirk curling at his lips betrayed him. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning more comfortably against the doorframe, the motion emphasizing the play of muscle under his skin. "Never seen someone fresh out of the shower before?"

Y/N scoffed, forcing his attention back to his screen even as his ears burned. "Boy, please. You could... put some clothes on," he said, his voice coming out more strained than he intended.

Nate didn't miss the tension. His smirk widened, and he pushed off the doorframe with deliberate slowness, walking across the room to his side. Each step seemed to echo, purposeful, and exaggerated.

"Oh, what's the matter, Y/N?" he drawled, his tone rich with teasing. "Afraid you'll see something you like?" His voice dipped just enough to make the words hang in the air, playful but laced with challenge.

Y/N didn't look up, his fingers hovering over his keyboard as if pretending to type. His shoulders were stiff, his neck tense, and his face was turning a shade of red that Nate couldn't help but notice.

"Shut up," Y/N growled, the words coming out more flustered than threatening. His eyes stayed glued to his laptop screen, though his focus was clearly elsewhere.

Nate chuckled, the sound low and satisfied, as he finally pulled open his dresser drawer. He took his time grabbing clothes, moving as if he had all the time in the world. Every so often, he threw a glance over his shoulder, catching the way Y/N's jaw tightened, the way his hands fidgeted in his lap.

Revenge had never tasted this sweet. For all the teasing Y/N had put him through, Nate was finally getting his moment, and he was enjoying it far too much.

"I'm just saying," Nate added, his voice light and casual, "if it bothers you that much, you could always move to another room."

Y/N didn't respond. His screen was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, though the pink flush creeping down his neck gave him away.

Nate grinned to himself as he pulled a shirt over his head, the satisfaction of his victory lingering in the air like the faint mist from his shower.

However, victories can only last so long.

The music pounded through the packed frat house, the bass vibrating through the floor and reverberating in Y/N's chest. The dim, colorful lights shifted and spun, casting the room in flashes of blue and red as bodies swayed to the rhythm. Y/N was in the center of the makeshift dance floor, moving effortlessly to the beat, his hips rolling with a confidence that was impossible to ignore.

His low-waist jeans clung perfectly to his figure, dipping low enough to reveal the faintest hint of skin between the waistband and his cropped graphic tee. The shirt, short enough to tease his toned stomach, shimmered slightly under the lights. Every movement, every turn of his body, seemed to draw eyes his way.

Across from him, a frat guy stepped closer, emboldened by Y/N's easy energy. His hands inched toward Y/N's waist, a sly grin on his face as he leaned in. Y/N let it happen, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as he played along, his movements slowing to match the guy's. The moment lingered, electrified by the heat of the crowd and the pull of the music.

But from the edge of the room, Nate stood frozen, his grip on the Solo cup in his hand tightening with every second. He hadn't touched the drink in over ten minutes, his focus entirely on the scene unfolding in front of him. His jaw was set, his chest rising and falling as he fought the growing frustration gnawing at him.

When the frat guy leaned in even closer, his hand brushing against Y/N's hip, Nate's patience snapped.

He pushed through the throng of dancers, his broad shoulders cutting a path as he moved toward Y/N. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed Y/N's wrist, his grip firm but not rough.

"Hey—what the hell?" Y/N yelped, stumbling slightly as Nate yanked him away from the dance floor.

Ignoring the frat guy's startled protests and Y/N's struggles, Nate dragged him through the crowd and up the stairs. The music faded to a dull thrum as they reached the second floor, the noise from the party below muffled behind closed doors. Nate shoved open the door to an empty room, pulling Y/N inside before slamming it shut behind them.

The sudden silence was jarring, broken only by Y/N's heavy breathing as he wrenched his arm free.

"Seriously, Nate? Again?" Y/N snapped, spinning to face him. His chest was still heaving from dancing, his hair slightly damp from the heat of the room. "What is your problem?"

Nate stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes dark and unreadable as they bore into Y/N. "What the hell were you doing with that guy?" he demanded, his voice low and strained.

Y/N scoffed, throwing his hands up. "Dancing? Flirting? Having fun? You know, normal things people do at parties?"

"That guy wasn't—" Nate started, his voice rising, but Y/N cut him off.

"Oh, don't even start," Y/N said, stepping closer and jabbing a finger at Nate's chest. His voice was sharp, each word like a dagger. "Straight people don't get to interfere in their gay roommate's love life just because they're feeling territorial. You've got no right to—"

"Shut up!" Nate barked, his voice rough and cracking at the edges.

Y/N froze for a beat, his eyes narrowing. "No. You shut up, Nate," he snapped back, his tone fierce. "I don't know what's got you so wound up, but I'm not gonna let you treat me like I'm some kind of—"

"I don't know what I'm doing, alright?" Nate interrupted, his voice suddenly softer, almost desperate. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room in agitated strides. "I don't—this isn't normal for me. I've never felt like this before."

"Felt like what?" Y/N asked, his voice losing some of its bite as he crossed his arms.

"Like this!" Nate snapped, stopping abruptly to face Y/N. His eyes were raw with emotion, his composure slipping with every word. "About a guy. About you."

The confession hung in the air like a thunderclap, the weight of it pressing down on both of them. Y/N stared at Nate, his expression softening but his guard still firmly in place.

"You're kidding," Y/N said finally, his voice quieter but still edged with disbelief. "You, Mr. I'm-Straight-As-An-Arrow, have feelings for me?"

Nate exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging as he looked away. "I don't know what this is," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "I didn't let myself think about it."

"Think about what?" Y/N pressed, his tone gentler now, the anger replaced by curiosity.

Nate's gaze snapped back to Y/N's, and for the first time, his vulnerability was laid bare. "You," he said simply. "How you make me feel. How much it pisses me off to see you with someone else. How I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how much I try."

Y/N blinked, stunned into silence as the words sunk in. For the first time, he didn't have a quick comeback.

Before he could respond, Nate crossed the room in a single step, his hands cupping Y/N's face as he leaned in.

The kiss was hesitant at first, almost unsure, but the moment their lips met, everything else fell away. Y/N's hands instinctively found the front of Nate's hoodie, gripping the fabric as he kissed back. The hesitation dissolved into something more certain, the kiss deepening as weeks of tension and unspoken feelings spilled out between them.

It was messy and unpracticed, their movements slightly clumsy but real. When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they struggled to process what had just happened.

"Wow," Y/N murmured after a beat, his voice soft but tinged with amusement. "Didn't think you had it in you, QB."

Nate let out a shaky laugh, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Yeah. Me neither."

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x male reader #x male reader #euphoria #gay #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x male reader

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tomriddleslovergirl · 7 months ago

Text

The Guest of Riddle Manor

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, past trauma, mentions of war, semi-public sex

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Sent off to stay at Riddle Manor after your home was destroyed, you meet the enigmatic Tom Riddle.

Riddle Manor towered above you. It’s been a while since you’d seen a house so untorn from the consequences of war, and so, you couldn’t help but just stand there and take it in.

In your hand, you held a suitcase. Almost all of your belongings rested there. Your family's business had been going through a rather rough time, and so many of your dresses and other luxuries had been sold off to keep afloat. This saddened you greatly but it had to be done.

The reason for you being at Riddle Manor was because your neighborhood was one of the many victims of the bombings. It was horrible! For a great many days afterwards, you could not sleep without the fear of a repeat of the incident looming over you, and you would now also awaken at the smallest of sounds. Hearing of the violent news, Mr. Riddle so kindly sent out a letter to your family. In it, he had written of welcoming your family as guests at Riddle Manor.

Your family’s business had been doing rather well, and you had a small inkling that Mr. Riddle thought that by welcoming your family as guests to his home, your parents and Riddle’s already strong friendship would become even stronger, and that once your parents got over the current rough patch in their company’s sales, they might reward him handsomely.

You had arrived at Little Hangleton late in the evening, and the shadows of the setting sun made the building look almost haunting.

Walking towards the front door of Riddle Manor, a strange and sudden ache spread itself through your mind. You brought your free hand up to your head to massage your temples. The train ride to Little Hangleton must have taken an ever bigger toll on you than you had thought.

Just then, you had gotten the feeling that you were being observed. Almost as if your body had a separate mind to your own, you looked up. In one of the many windows, a pale face looked down at you. Your eyes locked with his before he quickly hid behind the curtains.

You thought it was rather strange but brushed it off.

You knocked on the front door, and after a few moments an old woman opened the door. Her hair was cut into a bob and it was of the colour grey. The woman’s wrinkled face wore a look of annoyance. She wore a maids uniform.

She gave you a look over before speaking, “Mr. Riddle has been expecting you, girl. I’ll take you to him.” She turned around and added: “Don’t bother with taking your shoes off.”

Stopping inside the foyer, you shut the door behind yourself, and rubbed your shoes on the carpet so as not to track in any dirt.

The maid led you to the drawing room, where a man who looked to be in his early forties sat. He was a rather attractive man, and though he was older, there was not one grey hair on his head. His skin was pale and a kind contrast against this dark hair and eyes.

Mr. Riddle got up from where he was seated. “Oh, how lovely it is to finally meet you!” He grabbed your hand with his own gloved one and gave it a quick shake.

“And it is nice to meet you, Mr. Riddle.” Your hand limply fell back to your side once Mr. Riddle let go of it.

He looked you up and down. Though you tried to look your best so you could make a good first impression, you could not help but feel embarrassment creep upon you under his intense gaze.

“As it happens, you’re right on time,” said Mr. Riddle. He gestured for the maid to take you luggage. She grabbed it and left to place it in what you presumed to be your bedroom. “My son – Tom – and I were just about to have dinner. You can eat and then go up to the room you will be staying in to unpack.”

“That sounds nice,” You agreed.

“Yes, it does. Now, follow me.” Mr. Riddle led you out of the drawing room and into the Manor’s halls. You tried not to gawk at the various paintings hung upon the vast walls, but it was rather difficult not to. In each one was a handsome, pale skinned man or woman, with dark hair and eyes to match. They were similar to that of Mr. Riddle, so you thought they must have been his ancestors.

Once you reached the dining room, your gaze landed on a boy around your age. He sat with perfect posture, with a small, leatherbound book in one of his hands that he must have been reading before you and Mr. Riddle barged in. He placed the book down on the table.

Mr. Riddle pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down. Your seat was across from his son’s. Mr. Riddle sat at the head of the table.

“My name is Tom. What might yours be?” the boy – whose name you just discovered – asked.

You told him your name.

The food arrived, and though you tried not to stare at Tom over the course of the meal, you couldn’t help but notice his beauty. He looked very similar to his father, and the fact that they were kin was undeniable. If Mr. Riddle were any younger they could have passed for twins.

“I do hope you will like it here,” said Mr. Riddle after swallowing a forkful of vegetables.

“I’m sure I will.”

Dinner was tense, to say the least. Tom and Mr. Riddle didn’t speak much to each other, which you had found strange because they were father and son.

After you were done eating, Mr Riddle excused you. The maid from before led you to the room you would be staying in.

Before leaving you to settle in, she gifted you with a warning: “It’s best not to leave your room at night. Who knows what one can be up to at the wee hours of the night.”

The warning left you confused, but you didn’t linger on it for too long. You chalked it up to the maid not wanting to have any additional messes she would have to clean up in the morning.

You spent the next little while unpacking your suitcase. You hung your clothing in the mahogany wardrobe, and placed the several books and stationary you brought with you on the desk.

Afterwards, you took a warm bath, changed into a baby pink nightgown, and tried to go to sleep.

Though you were quite exhausted by the day's happenings, you didn’t fall asleep as quickly as you wished to. The fear of waking up to a crushed house overcame you, and you had to pace around the room for what could have been hours just to come yourself down. You were safe now… is what you kept telling yourself. Eventually, you tired yourself down enough so that you could fall asleep.

The knocking of the door was what awoke you the next morning. An agitated groan passed through your lips; You had just finally fallen asleep! You now didn’t wish to get out of bed.

“I don’t mean to be a burden, but I must insist you open the door, Miss.”

Your eyes cracked open in horror. It was Mr. Riddle’s son!

You cleared your throat before replying: “One moment!” You grabbed a robe from your wardrobe and threw it on.

Opening the door, you were faced with Tom. Though it was early in the morning, Tom was impeccably dressed. He wore a crisp, grey suit with a white button down shirt along with a dark green tie. His dark hair was styled with gel to hold it in place, similarly to how his father wore it the day before. If one saw you next to him, they must have thought you to be the toad and him the prince.

“Is there something I could help you with?”

“Perhaps.” A soft sigh passed through his lips. "I am to show you around Riddle Manor so that you know your way around.”

“So early in the morning?” You couldn’t help but question him on his choice of timing. You heard no birds chirping to pull you out of the hypnotism dreams put one under, and no sun agitated your eyes into opening.

“It’s best to get certain things finished as soon as possible rather than wait around.” His tone left no room for argument, and so the desire to have an extra bit of sleep was diminished.

“Am I allowed to get ready for the day, or would you rather not be kept waiting?” you couldn’t help but tease the boy. You never spoke much to boys, but the ones from your past neighborhood that had you grown up with never acted so refined.

Tom pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’ll wait.”

Casting one final glance at Tom, you shut the door.

Quickly, you brushed your teeth, and put on a fine, navy blue dress. You handled your hair with not as much care as you usually would, but you were in a rush.

After you were done with focusing on your beauty, you re–opened the door.

“I’m ready.”

Tom inhaled through his nose. “This will be quick.”

You followed behind Tom as he led you around the manor.

“You won’t be needing to go through many of these doors. I presume you already know where both the drawing room and the dining room are… I am not sure why my father put me up to this, as you shouldn’t be leaving the room much unless it was to eat.”

Your eyes widened at this. “Excuse me?”

Tom down at you blankly. “Where else would you go?”

You shrugged your shoulders. You hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.

“Well, we do have a library, if that interests you,” said Tom.

You nodded in delight. “I love to read.”

“Good.”

You followed Tom as he led you to the library. Once entering there, you couldn’t help but be amazed. At Least you wouldn’t have to read the several books you brought along with you repeatedly over the course of your stay.

“What kind of books does your family own?” You ran your fingers down a shelf of books as you walked down one of the aisles, looking for something that peaked your interest.

“I’m not quite sure. None of the books here have held my interest since I was a young boy,” Tom answered honestly.

You stopped at that, and looked over at him. Yet again, you were reminded of his beauty. He looked like the kind of man one would watch in the pictures. He matched the aesthetic of an academic quite well, as he looked to be quite an elegant man; One who would spend his free time studying the pages of the books held in this vast room.

“But I saw you reading yesterday at dinner,” the words slipped through your mouth with no reason other than wishing to continue the conversation. You resumed exploring the shelves, with Tom following behind you like a mother hen who didn’t wish for her chick to wander off and get lost.

“Yes,” Tom’s melodic voice was closer behind you than you had expected it to be, “I was.” After a pause, he resumed: “It’s a book related to my school studies.”

You frown, and stop walking, turning around to face him “But it’s summer! It is the time given for one to relax.”

“I find myself quite entranced by my university studies,” he replied simply.

“I suppose that is a good thing.” You were happy with Tom’s answer, and so let him be.

Soon, you and Tom made your way to the dining room to have breakfast.

There was not much talk during the meal, besides Mr. Riddle asked Tom if he’d given me a tour of the manor, to which he replied with a simple: “Yes, I have. She’s taken an interest in the library.”

“Well,” Mr. Riddle started, after swallowing a strawberry, “That is good to hear… Now, I will be departing tonight. I have a business trip I must go on. I’ll only be gone for a little over a week, so not too long. I trust you two will behave yourself?” Mr. Riddle gave Tom and you a pointed look.

“Yes, Father,” answered Tom.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Good, good.” Mr. Riddle looked over at you. “I truly hadn’t expected to leave so early on into your visit, I do hope you don’t think I’m trying to escape my duties as a host?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “Of course not.”

Mr. Riddle left in the middle of the night, while you slept.

The next day was a bore. You ate breakfast, and Tom didn’t seem keen on making any conversation.

You spent the rest of the waking hours catching up on lost sleep, and when night fell, you still found that you were exhausted, but were unable to sleep. Having missed dinner, you were also hungry.

Laying in bed for a few moments, you listened to the heavy rain patter against the windows. You may have found it calming, if it didn’t remind you of that night… It had been raining quite a bit the day your house was destroyed, and so memories of that time spread across your mind, like a river that never ended.

Rain, crying, smoke… It was all too much for you.

You got out of bed and decided to grab a book from the library to entertain yourself and a snack from the kitchen.

Barefoot, you snuck out of your room, and made your way to the library. Thunder could be heard through the thick walls, making a chill go down your spine. You entered the library and explored the shelfs. Some of the books were about business; Nothing that held much of your interest. Soon enough, you found the shelves for fiction. There, you snatched up a hardback copy of Frankenstein. You had heard a bit about it, and tonight was the night you would finally allow yourself to be consumed by the piece of literature.

The next part of your plan was to get a snack from the kitchen to eat while you read in bed. Oh… how you couldn’t wait to do so. Tonight would be as calm a night as you could make it.

You tiptoed down the hall when you suddenly bumped into Tom. A scream of surprise tore through your throat and you dropped your book onto the ground. You clutched your clothed chest as you took in a few breaths of air to calm yourself.

“You scared me, Tom!”

“As I can see…” Tom crouched down and picked up your book, before standing up and holding it out for you. You stared down at his pale hand for a moment – noting its beauty just like the rest of him – before grabbing the novel.

“Thank you.” You held the book to your chest.

“You shouldn’t be up so late,” his voice was crisp, and reminded you of that of a teacher’s.

“But you are up, or am I speaking with a ghost who imitates others?” You quirked a brow.

Tom looked you up and down. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed before his dark eyes looked back into yours. You were suddenly aware that you were just in your nightgown.

He held his hands behind his back. “And I suppose you’re going back to bed?”

You shake your head. “No… I was hoping to grab a snack from the kitchen.”

Tom’s shoulders sagged, if only just a little bit. “I’ll join you.”

Tom took the lead, and you both made your way to the kitchen. First, you grabbed a glass and filled it with some water; Your little adventure left you dehydrated. Then, you rummaged through the cabinets, until you found a jar of cookies. You placed a few in a bowl.

“Would you like some tea with them?” Tom asked. He’s been watching you the entire time. “It would help you fall asleep.”

Before you could answer, Tom rolled up his sleeves – he wasn’t even dressed for bed yet – and turned on the stove. As you both waited for the kettle to heat the water, you cracked open your book, leaned your front against the counter, and began reading: “You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings…”

Tom’s warm presence was felt behind you. Perhaps he too wished to entertain himself while the water heated. He was so close to you that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. In all honesty, you did not despise his closeness. You would actually like it if you and Tom were to become close…

Soon, the tea was ready, and Tom and you sat in one of the living rooms. The book lay between you both to read. The rain beat against the wall and the fire crackled. Tom and you were so close that your breaths almost became one. You could smell the tea on his lips.

Soon, you had dozed off and no nightmares haunted you that night.

You never did find out why Tom was roaming around the halls of Riddle Manor so late at night…

You awoke in bed the next day with no memory of how you had gotten there. Your book laid upon the nightstand, with a dark feather stuck between the pages you and Tom had last left off on.

“I would like to show you something,” Tom’s voice broke you out of your trance. You had spent the entire day reading Frankenstein, and finished it just moments before, and now you could not keep your mind off of it.

“Hm?” You blinked. “Show me what?”

“The gardens in the backyard. They’re beautiful when the night falls.” Tom looked at you, expecting your acceptance.

You gave it to him. “I would like that.”

“It’s a nice reading spot as well. You could bring your book there to read.”

A smile graced your lips. “So, we could read? Oh, but I’ve already finished the book, Tom! But I suppose I could grab a new novel from the library.”

A small smile made its way to Tom’s face, almost like you were doing everything he had ever wanted from a person. He spooned a bit of soup and brought it to his lips.

Dinner passed, and you made your way to the library. Your eyes the books on the shelves until a short novel grasped your attention. It was named “Carmilla.” It was a short book; A piece of writing one could begin and finish reading in a night.

You then went up to your room and shrugged on your coat. Though it was summer, the nights recently were cold. While waiting for Tom to collect you, you wrote a letter to your parents, informing them of how your stay at Riddle Manor has been so far.

Just as you finished writing, there was a knock at your door. You placed your feathered pen into the pot of ink and answered the door.

There, Tom stood. “Are you reading to come with me?”

“One moment.” You went back to your desk, grabbed your book and shoved it into your coat pocket. You made your way back to Tom. “Now? Yes, I am.”

You and Tom made your way to the backdoor. The pair of you slipped outside, revealing yourselves for the moon and stars to gaze upon. Unfortunately, their light would not be enough to aid in reading the words of Carmilla.

“We need a light.”

Tom grabbed a strange stick from out of his pocket, and muttered a word you had never before heard under his breath: “Lumos.” The strange stick produced a light.

A small gasp passed through your lips at the trick, and you couldn’t help but clap your hands together. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s almost like magic.”

A peculiar expression masked Tom’s usual face. A strange feeling spread through your stomach, but you decided to ignore it. It must have been the night's cold that was making you feel strange.

“Come. Follow me.” With that, Tom turned around, and walked towards the labyrinth of bushes. Tom clearly seemed to know which way he was going, and so your anxiousness faded away, until you could not even remember that you had felt such a thing in Tom’s presence.

You must have reached what you assumed to be the centre of the Maze. There, a beautiful fountain was placed in the middle. You made your way over to it, staring down at the water.

Tom’s reflection in the water showed that he stood right next to you. Strangely enough, his reflection had crimson coloured eyes… You quickly glanced at Tom’s face, but no, his eyes were as dark as ever. Perhaps, you were mistaken. Maybe, your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark properly… Yes, it must have been because of the dark.

You sat down at the edge of the fountain, and Tom joined you. You both listened to the sound of the water for a little while. You could hear the hoot of an owl, and the croaks of frogs, hidden in the bushes. The sound of crickets calmed you.

Tom’s voice broke the silence. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath softly hit your cheek. Tom traced your jaw with that strange stick of his. He seemed to be contemplating something, as if his brain was warring with multiple ideas of what to do with you.

Tom leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, and you let him. You shut your eyes. His lips molded against your own, and a note of pleasure passed through you, making you press closer to him.

Tom wrapped one of his hands around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other pressed against your jaw, positioning you so that you faced him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, but you soon very quickly parted on account of needing air.

Tom helped you out of your jacket. He grabbed your hand and kissed up your shoulder until he made it up to the area your shoulder and neck connected. There, he sucked on the flesh. A pleasure you had never in your life before felt coursed through you. A moan passed through your lips.

Once Tom was satisfied, he made his way down to your collarbone, where he left a trail of kisses. He unlaced your dress and a small gasp passed through you as you finally became aware of the night's cold touch. But Tom’s touch was warmer.

You wore no bra and so Tom gently grasped your hardened nub between two fingers and tugged on it. A gasp passed through your lips. No one but yourself had ever touched you in such a way, and it felt so different from one’s own hands.

Tom kissed at your neck as he rubbed his fingers rubbed at your nub, causing your back to arch. Tom was all too aware of how your legs spread as pleasure coursed through you.

Tom dropped onto his knees on the grass and pushed up your skirt. Oh… You had read about such things in the romance books you had hidden under your bed at your past home.

Tom tugged your underwear off and slipped it into his pants pocket so it would not get dirty.

Legs spread for him, Tom settled his head between our thighs. His tongue experimentally poked at your genitals, and quickly found your clit. Tom ravished you like a man starved. One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other held onto the edge of the fountain as he gifted you with a pleasure that was all too familiar yet foreign at the same time.

Just as you were nearing your end, Tom stole away your satisfaction. He pulled his head away from your vagina, and littered your thighs with kisses, so as to tell you: ‘Good. Now, keep being good for me.’

Tom stood, and helped you up. Your legs shook with what could have been, as Tom pressed you against one of the labyrinth walls.

“Tom… Oh, Tom…” You called out for him, your body’s need for him taking over all your other senses.

Tom pressed a kiss to your lips, silencing you in what you found to be the most kindest of ways.

Finally, Tom pressed his sex against yours. Your head fell back, your mouth open in a soundless gasp. Tom wrapped one of his arms around your hip, while his other hand pressed against the wall behind you.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, he paused. His lips pressed against your neck, his warm breath hit your neck, a contrast to the cold night, causing you to shiver.

The movement caused a small hiss to escape between Tom’s teeth.

“Please, move,” You begged, and so Tom did.

He pulled his cock out before pressing back into you again. You both moaned at the same time, pleasure overtaking you both.

The pair of you pushed your hips against the others, trying to maximize the amount of pleasure the other could feel. Skin slapped against skin, moans freed themselves from the throat, and sweat dripped down flesh.

As your bodies neared the end of being one, Tom brough one of his lithe hands down to rub at your clit. You tensed as you finally finished, before relaxing altogether. Tom was right behind you nearing the end of his pleasure, and once he finally did, he embraced you warmly.

The only reason you hadn’t fallen yet was because of Tom’s hold on you. Tom shyly nosed at your neck. For a moment, you were surrounded only by Tom. His body and scent consumed you whole, and you never wanted it to be any different.

a/n: Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, as they are motivating! :) divider creds: @saradika

Tom Riddle Masterlist

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stellarsecrets86 · 5 months ago

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Synastry Aspects That Feel Like Fate Whispering

Valentine's Readings are Open.Here

🍒 Lilith square Venus – "She’s a nightmare, dressed like a daydream." – Gone Girl (2014)

🍒 Sun conjunct Moon – "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." – Wuthering Heights (1992)

🍒Psyche conjunct Sun – "You and I are meant to be together. Period. The end." – Grey’s Anatomy

🍒Juno conjunct Moon – "I found my home in you." – Dear John (2010)

🍒 Venus conjunct Mars – "Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time." – Casablanca (1942)

🍒Chiron trine Venus – "Loving you is like touching the sun—beautiful, but dangerous." – Great Expectations (1998)

🍒 Pluto square Venus – "I wish I knew how to quit you." – Brokeback Mountain (2005)

🍒Eros trine Mars – "We were made of fire and chaos, but I wouldn't have it any other way." – Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005)

🍒Nessus opposite Sun – "You destroy me and I love you for it." – Revolutionary Road (2008)

🍒Mercury conjunct Mercury – "You had me at hello." – Jerry Maguire (1996)

🍒Mars opposite Moon – "Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without." – Meet Joe Black (1998)

🍒Neptune trine Venus – "They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops." – Big Fish (2003)

🍒Saturn conjunct Moon – "You make me want to be a better man." – As Good as It Gets (1997)

🍒Jupiter opposite Sun – "To me, you are perfect." – Love Actually (2003)

🍒Uranus square Venus – "I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her." – Notting Hill (1999)

🍒Pluto conjunct Sun – "Our love is like the wind. I can't see it, but I can feel it." – A Walk to Remember (2002)

🍒Mars conjunct Descendant – "I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day." – The Notebook (2004)

🍒Saturn square Venus – "I gave you my heart, and you gave it back in pieces." – Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

🍒Mercury opposite Mars – "You’re the first boy I ever kissed… and I want you to be the last." – Sweet Home Alabama (2002)

🍒Psyche trine Neptune – "You are my dream and my reality colliding." – Inception (2010)

🍒Eros opposite Pluto – "You pulled me into your gravity, and now I can't escape." – Twilight (2008)

🍒Juno trine Sun – "If my soul had a name, it would be yours." – Before Sunrise (1995)

🍒Pluto opposite Moon – "No matter what occurs, I will find you." – The Last of the Mohicans (1992)

🍒Neptune square Mercury – "It’s like in that moment, the whole universe existed just to bring us together." – Serendipity (2001)

🍒Chiron opposite Moon – "You saw all my scars and chose to stay." – Good Will Hunting (1997)

🍒 Venus square Mars – "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." – Dirty Dancing (1987)

🍒Chiron conjunct Moon – "It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you." – The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

🍒Juno conjunct Venus – "I don’t need the world, just your hand in mine." – Me Before You (2016)

🍒Lilith opposite Mars – "Your darkness speaks the same language as mine." – The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

🍒Jupiter conjunct Moon – "Life’s not the amount of breaths you take, it’s the moments that take your breath away." – Hitch (2005)

🍒Nessus trine Venus – "The love that hurts the most is the one that never truly dies." – Blue Valentine (2010)

🍒Eros conjunct Venus – "You make my heart race in a way I never knew was possible." – Moulin Rouge! (2001)

🍒Psyche conjunct Mercury – "You speak, and I hear a melody only my soul understands." – The Age of Adaline (2015)

🍒Lilith square Moon – "You awaken something wild in me, something I was told to tame." – Maleficent (2014)

🍒Eros sextile Neptune – "You feel like a dream I never want to wake up from." – Romeo + Juliet (1996)

🍒Juno opposite Pluto – "If love is a battlefield, then you are both my war and my peace." – Pride & Prejudice (2005)

🐝✨

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #birth chart #horoscope #synastry #synastry observations #synastry aspects #sun in synastry #moon in astrology #moon in synastry #venus in astrology #venus in synastry #asteroid #asteroids #lilith #random observations

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hypnobeauty · 5 months ago

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A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 5)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! bigger chapter for you guys! some more background on our girl and other people in her life. next chapter is the date. i'm currently on a trip with friends, so posting schedule might be crazy. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 5. nerves and anticipation

hyun-ju’s eyes opened before her alarm buzzed—a habit she hadn’t been able to shake even after leaving the military. twelve years of structure and discipline didn’t disappear in a matter of months. the steady rhythm of her mornings was a comfort, even now.

she swung her legs off the bed, her muscles stiff but familiar with the motion. stretching her arms over her head, she felt the faint pull of her shoulders, then stood to stretch her legs. the sheets were swiftly pulled taut and tucked neatly, her bed transformed with military precision.

padding to the bathroom, hyun-ju caught her reflection in the mirror. she stared for a beat longer than usual, then peeled off her clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before stepping into the shower, turning the knob toward the coldest setting. the icy water shocked her system into wakefulness, a ritual born of her time in the military. in those days, mornings had started early—often before the sun had risen. as a sergeant first class, she had been responsible for overseeing her unit’s readiness and welfare. she would lead them in grueling physical training sessions at dawn, barking commands through frosted air as their breaths formed clouds.

by midmorning, her time would be consumed by inspections, briefings, and tactical drills. she had thrived on the structure, finding solace in the rhythm of endless tasks. between training her soldiers and mentoring junior officers, she had carved out time to pursue a degree in business administration at the korea military academy. the balance was precarious, but hyun-ju had been proud of the way she managed it all, even if the exhaustion had been bone-deep.

but it wasn’t all discipline and grit. she’d been a mentor, too—a steady presence for her team. her soldiers had come to her with everything from strategic questions to personal fears. she’d thrived on the structure and camaraderie, even as it tested her limits. now, the rigor of those days was a memory, but her mornings remained sacred.

after drying off and wrapping herself in a towel, she began her skincare routine, methodically layering products while her mind wandered. teeth brushed, hair brushed, oiled and tied, she returned to her bedroom to pull on her favorite sports bra, loose joggers, and an oversized shirt. she was sitting to put on her socks when the alarm on her phone buzzed.

6:30 a.m., right on schedule.

in the kitchen, she boiled water for black coffee and set out her pills for the day—vitamins, hormone supplements, phytoestrogens, collagen. beside them were her gym staples: creatine and bcaa powder. after swallowing the pills with a gulp of water and sipping her coffee, hyun-ju laced up her sneakers, grabbed her phone and headphones, and headed out.

the faint hum of seoul awakening surrounded her—bakers pulling down shutters, early commuters shuffling to the bus stop. she greeted mr. soo, the building janitor, with a polite nod before breaking into a light jog. her pace quickened as her muscles warmed, the steady rhythm of her feet striking the pavement grounding her in the present. by the time she reached the gym, she was ready for the burn of leg day. the familiar ache in her quads and calves was like an old friend, a reminder of what her body could endure.

after her session, hyun-ju walked home, stopping by a fruit vendor to grab an apple. she peeled the sticker off absentmindedly as she walked, biting into the crisp sweetness and savoring the small indulgence. back in her apartment, she showered again, made a quick breakfast, and settled at her desk with her laptop.

job hunting had become a necessary part of her routine, though not one she enjoyed. she scrolled through listings, tailoring her résumé to each one. she wasn’t applying for anything lofty—assistant positions, entry-level management roles—but the rejection emails piled up all the same.

it wasn’t her qualifications. she knew that. her degree spoke for itself. her twelve years in the military had taught her leadership, logistics, and discipline. she could oversee teams, conduct training, handle logistics, and more. but none of that seemed to matter.

hyun-ju suspected why. the truth was, being trans made her an easy target for rejection. employers didn’t say it outright, but she saw it in their hesitation, the way their smiles faltered when they met her in person.

the thought stung, but she pushed it aside. she had other things to focus on today.

the rest of her morning passed in small, familiar rhythms: emails, light cleaning, and a quick lunch. by early afternoon, she was heading out again for her endocrinologist appointment. the check-in on her hormone levels was routine but reassuring—a reminder that her body was aligning more closely with her sense of self.

from there, she walked to her therapist’s office, the quiet space a sanctuary from the noise of her thoughts.

“i still feel stuck,” she admitted, her hands gripping her knees. “like i’m not moving fast enough. not doing enough.”

her therapist’s voice was calm and measured. “you’re doing what you can, hyun-ju. progress isn’t about speed—it’s about showing up for yourself, day by day.”

the words echoed in her mind as she left, the late afternoon sunlight painting long shadows on the pavement.

with time to spare before her evening support group, hyun-ju headed to her favorite café. the scent of roasted coffee beans and the low murmur of voices welcomed her as she settled into a corner seat with her laptop.

she had planned to work on budgeting for her next surgery, but your laugh caught her attention first, light and easy as you chatted with the barista. when your eyes met, her pulse quickened.

the conversation that followed was natural, though hyun-ju felt a mix of relief and guilt. you’d teased her gently about her unread messages, and she’d explained, hesitantly, how much she had overthought replying.

by the time you left, her heart felt lighter. the warmth of your presence stayed with her, your parting words—“see you tomorrow”—echoing in her mind.

hyun-ju lingered at the café long after you had left, her laptop open in front of her but forgotten. the noise of the café—the soft murmur of conversations, the occasional hiss of the espresso machine—faded into the background as her thoughts took over. she had tried to focus on her spreadsheet, crunching numbers for her next surgery, but her mind kept drifting back to you.

you had been kind, patient even after weeks of her silence. your teasing had been gentle, and your warmth felt genuine. it was disarming. hyun-ju wasn’t used to people like you—people who stayed, even when she gave them every reason to walk away.

she closed her laptop and stared out the window. the evening light stretched shadows across the pavement, and she wondered if she was finally ready to let someone into her carefully constructed world.

her thoughts drifted to the support group and the friends who had helped her get this far. she hadn’t been looking for a support group when she found it, but it had become a cornerstone of her routine, every thursday evening. the meetings were an anchor, a place where she could exhale and be herself without fear of judgment.

hyuk, one of the first friends she’d made there, was impossible to miss. his energy filled every room he entered, his sharp humor often breaking the tension during heavy discussions. hyuk was a dj—loud, lively, and unapologetically himself. he had once shown her a gallery on his phone of all the noise complaints he’d received from neighbors.

“what can i say?” he’d joked. “some people just can’t handle the bass.”

his girlfriend, mina, was his opposite in many ways—soft-spoken, with a melancholic air that balanced hyuk’s boldness. she attended the group occasionally, offering her perspective as the partner of a trans man. mina’s kindness was unassuming, but her insights often stayed with hyun-ju long after the meetings ended.

hyun-ju had other friends there, too. autumn, an american, and jaidee, a thai woman whose stories of her homeland painted vivid pictures in hyun-ju’s mind. through jaidee, hyun-ju had learned about the strides thailand had made in lgbtq+ acceptance. she dreamed of visiting one day, maybe even moving there to find the kind of freedom she longed for.

the group was a patchwork of stories and identities, each person carrying their own struggles and triumphs. for hyun-ju, it was a reminder that she wasn’t alone—that there were people who understood, even if the rest of the world didn’t.

a week ago, after a meeting, hyuk and mina had pulled her aside. the support group meeting had just wrapped up, and hyun-ju lingered by the snack table, fiddling with the edge of a biscuit. across the room, mina caught hyun-ju’s eye and waved. hyuk followed her gaze and grinned.

“you’re not sneaking out without talking to me, are you?” hyuk called as they approached.

“i wasn’t sneaking,” hyun-ju said, though her tone lacked conviction.

“you absolutely were,” hyuk teased, gesturing to a pair of empty chairs in the corner. “c’mon. spill it.”

mina offered her a cup of tea. “peppermint. figured you’d like it.”

“thanks,” hyun-ju said, cupping the warm drink and trying not to meet hyuk’s expectant gaze.

hyun-ju hesitated but followed them, sinking into one of the chairs as mina sat on hyuk’s lap, her legs crossed neatly.

“so, what’s got you looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world?” hyuk asked, leaning back with his typical grin.

mina gave hyun-ju a kind smile, her soft brown eyes full of curiosity. “if he’s being too pushy, just tell me. i’ll rein him in.”

“no, it’s fine,” hyun-ju said quickly, her fingers tightening around her tea. “i just… i think i messed something up.”

hyuk tilted his head, his grin fading slightly. “with who?”

hyun-ju hesitated, glancing between them. “there’s this girl. she helped me after my surgery—got me home and everything. she gave me her number, but… i haven’t replied to her messages. it’s been weeks.”

mina leaned forward slightly. “that’s really sweet of her. why haven’t you replied?”

“i don’t know what to say,” hyun-ju admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “and what if i say the wrong thing? or what if she doesn’t actually like me that way, and i’m just reading into things?”

hyuk blinked at her. “how many messages?”

hyun-ju pulled out her phone and reluctantly handed it over. hyuk’s eyes widened as he scrolled through the unread texts. “hyun-ju, this is brutal. she’s practically writing you a novel.”

mina peeked over his shoulder, wincing. “oof. yeah, this isn’t great.”

hyuk grinned, holding the phone up like it was evidence in a trial. “you’re leaving her hanging like this? no wonder you’re fidgety. the guilt must be eating you alive.”

“it is,” hyun-ju admitted, burying her face in her hands.

mina reached out, patting her arm. “it’s okay. you can fix this.”

hyuk let out a soft snort. “you’re overthinking this. she wouldn’t have given you her number or sent all those messages if she didn’t care. you think she’s texting you for fun?”

“hyuk,” mina said gently, placing a hand on his arm before turning to hyun-ju. “what he means is, she sounds like someone who genuinely wanted to connect with you. what’s stopping you from reaching out?”

hyun-ju shrugged, staring at her tea. “i don’t think i’m ready.”

mina tilted her head. “ready for what? a relationship? a conversation? something more?”

hyun-ju opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know,” she said finally. “sometimes it feels like… like i’m not enough yet. like i need to be further along before anyone would really want me.”

hyuk let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “hyun-ju, listen to me. i have been there before, okay? you’re enough right now. not next year, not after your next surgery, not when you feel like you’ve checked all the boxes. right now.” he frowned and sighed before continuing.

“sorry, but that’s crap, and you know it. you’re enough right now. you don’t have to hit some magical milestone to deserve to be happy.”

“oh, absolutely,” mina said dryly, rolling her eyes. “but seriously, hyun-ju, the right person isn’t going to care about where you are in your journey. they’ll care about you.”

hyun-ju blinked, her eyes stinging. “but what if i ruin it? what if i say the wrong thing, and she decides i’m not worth it?”

hyuk gave her a pointed look. “and what if you say the right thing, and it turns into something amazing? you’re too busy focusing on the worst-case scenario to see the best one.”

mina reached over, her voice warm. “hyun-ju, it’s okay to be scared. but don’t let that fear make decisions for you. even if she doesn’t feel the same way, at least you’ll know. and if she does… well, isn’t that worth the risk?”

hyun-ju exhaled shakily, the knot in her chest loosening just slightly. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“take your time,” mina said, her smile kind. “but don’t wait so long that you lose the chance.”

hyuk grinned, leaning back in his chair. “and when you do text her, let me know. i want updates.”

hyun-ju laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “thanks, both of you.”

“anytime,” mina said, standing and brushing off her skirt. “now, we’ve got a party to drag you to this weekend, so get ready.” hyun-ju groaned, but the smile lingering on her lips was genuine.

so when hyun-ju walked into her support group later that evening and locked eyes with hyuk smiling, he gave her a grin and a knowing look.

“well?” he asked, crossing his arms.

hyun-ju smiled. “we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

“finally,” he said, clapping her on the back. “now don’t mess it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” hyun-ju said dryly, but her smile lingered.

the following night, the weight of the day began to shift. therapy had left hyun-ju with a lot to think about, and the memory of her conversation with you at the café lingered in her mind like a warm ember. the way you’d smiled at her, the light teasing in your tone, the easy way you’d leaned across the table as though the space between you didn’t exist—it had all felt surreal.

now, standing in front of her wardrobe, hyun-ju realized she was nervous.

she wasn’t the type to get flustered easily. growing up, she’d been the one to speak up first, the one who led the charge in games and group projects. even in the military, she’d been confident and self-assured, her voice steady as she commanded her unit. but this—getting ready for a date with you—felt entirely different.

her fingers trailed over the hangers, her eyes scanning the options. most of her wardrobe was practical—clothes meant for comfort or the gym. but tonight wasn’t about practicality. tonight was about showing you a side of herself she rarely let others see.

she settled on a sleek black turtleneck that hugged her figure without feeling too tight and a pair of loose black trousers that tapered neatly at the ankles. simple, understated, but polished.

after laying the outfit on her bed, she turned to the mirror. her hair had grown longer over the past month, the ends now brushing her shoulders. she brushed it carefully, smoothing out any tangles, and debated whether to leave it down or tie it back. after a moment’s hesitation, she decided to leave it loose, the straight strands framing her face.

her makeup routine was straightforward—just enough to enhance her features. a touch of foundation, a hint of blush, a swipe of eyeliner to accentuate her eyes. she paused when she reached for her lipstick, her mind flashing back to the way your gaze had lingered on her lips at the café. she chose a soft, rosy shade, something subtle but noticeable.

by the time she was dressed, her nerves had settled into a quiet hum of anticipation. she checked her reflection one last time, smoothing the fabric of her turtleneck and adjusting her hair.

her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she smiled when she saw your message:

“just finished getting ready. heading out soon. see you at 7!”

hyun-ju’s heart skipped a beat. she typed back quickly:

“can’t wait. i’m on my way now. i’ll share my location with you.”

she grabbed her coat—a long, dark wool one that had been a gift from her mother two winters ago—and wrapped her blue scarf around her neck. the scarf was soft and worn, the kind of item that carried memories with it.

as she stepped out of her apartment, her breath visible in the crisp evening air, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. the last time she’d let herself hope for something like this, it hadn’t ended well. but tonight, she wanted to believe.

your apartment was a flurry of activity as you got ready, ha-neul sprawled on your bed, her face stuck in her phone, offering unsolicited advice.

“can i crash over tonight?” ha-neul asked “viktor is going to mine to get his stuff, i don't want to see his fugly face.”

“yes.” you said from your place on the floor in front of the mirror, where you finished your makeup.

“are you really going to wear that?” she teased, pointing at the outfit you’d laid out.

“yes,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “it’s a date, not a fashion show.”

ha-neul sat up, smirking. “but it’s your first date with her. you have to make an impression.”

“i think she’ll survive if i don’t show up looking like i stepped out of a magazine,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

ha-neul raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. and yet, you’ve tried on three different pairs of boots in the last ten minutes.”

you threw a pillow at her, laughing despite yourself. “fine, maybe i’m a little nervous.”

“a little?” ha-neul said, dodging the pillow. “you’ve been talking about her nonstop since the yesterday.”

you paused, your cheeks warming. it was true—you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about hyun-ju. the way she’d apologized for not replying to your messages, the softness in her voice when she said your name, the way her dark eyes seemed to hold a thousand unspoken thoughts.

“she’s… different,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

ha-neul’s teasing expression softened. “i know. that’s why i’m rooting for you.”

you smiled, turning back to the mirror. your outfit was simple but flattering—a fitted coat over a sweater dress, paired with tights and heeled boots that added just enough height to make you feel confident. you added a pair of earrings, small and understated, and ran a hand through your hair.

when your phone buzzed with hyun-ju’s message, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“can’t wait. i’m on my way now. i’ll share my location with you.”

“she’s on her way,” you said, glancing at ha-neul.

ha-neul let out a dramatic cheer. “look at you, all giddy. go get her, tiger!”

“shut up,” you said, laughing as you grabbed your bag.

as you headed out the door, your phone buzzed again. this time, it was hyun-ju sharing her location. you opened the map, watching the small icon that marked her position move steadily toward the restaurant.

in the backseat of the uber, you snapped a quick selfie, angling the camera to catch your best side. the photo was playful, your lips curved into a soft smile, your eyes bright with anticipation.

“on my way,” you captioned it, hitting send before you could overthink it.

her reply came quickly:

“you look amazing. i’m waiting inside. it’s too cold to stay out.”

you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. hyun-ju’s straightforwardness was one of the things you liked most about her.

when hyun-ju saw your selfie, her heart skipped a beat. you looked radiant, your smile soft and inviting, your confidence practically leaping off the screen. she stared at the photo for a moment longer than necessary before typing her reply.

inside the restaurant, she sat at a corner table, her hands resting lightly on the surface. the room was warm and inviting, the soft hum of conversation and the faint clinking of glasses creating a cozy atmosphere. she glanced toward the door every few minutes, her anticipation building with each passing second.

when you finally walked in, hyun-ju stood, her breath catching as your eyes met. you smiled, your face lighting up in a way that made her chest tighten.

and just like that, the nervousness melted away.

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thesirencult · 2 years ago

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Pick A Card : Your Inner Goddess

"How would you behave if you knew you were a God or Goddess? How would you treat yourself, how would you treat others? What kind of consciousness would you hold about your smallest actions if you knew their effects influenced the rest of creation? If your awakenings could bring joy to the multitudes? What kind of mindfulness would that inspire?"

- Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind: Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self

Within each woman there lies a Goddess. Within you there lies a force to be reckoned with.

She awaits the moment you find her and she awakes.

Take the messages with a grain of salt. First and foremost trust your intuition and your inner Goddess...

Within each pile you will find what your inner goddess craves, how you can service her and what's holding her back.

Pile 1

The Hierophant, The Sun, The Empress

Your inner Goddess is craving warmth and care. A daring little lady she is. She reminds me of P!nk in the music video of U+Ur Hand.

She is sitting pretty with her book and she is not easily impressed. Maybe because she can do EVERYTHING she puts her heart and soul into. Very wise and commanding, yet feminine and seductive.

Your inner Goddess wants you to realize that you deserve abundance and happiness. You need to work on your Solar Plexus. I get that I should also talk to you about your adrenals. You have been hustling for a long time and the Goddess wants you to sit your pretty booty down and take a moment to breathe and realize that you are right on time. Go get it panther!

Pile 2

The Fool, The Star

Wow. This is a very airy energy. Your inner Goddess is here to see and experience everything. She loves being vulnerable and wants to push you out of your comfort zone.

She dares to dream about a better future and she wants to tell you that if you don't dream it and belive it you mights as well not even try.

Just do it, she says, and dives straight out the cliff. She always manages to survive and those negative voices feel jealous that the "naive" Goddess makes the best decisions right on the spot. Trust your intuition and inner Wisdom.

Pile 3

3 Of Cups, The Star, 10 Of Swords, Queen Of Wands

I don't know why, but your inner Goddess gives me "black cat energy" or Scorpio energy. She is that seductive voice that whispers "do it now, analyze it later".

She is affectionate and loves a good foot rub. Your inner Goddess has been through it. She has been accompanying you for SEVERAL lifetimes and she could have been the black cat to your Cleopatra back in ancient Egypt.

I feel like we should not play around with this one cause she might whip us up. Lol. Your inner Goddess comes out during "playtime" if you know what I mean. Look at your Lilith cause she is a lot like that placement in your chart. Alien yet homely. She can be either a storm or a beautiful river. Beware, she scratches anyone that dares hurt you. Payback's a bitch, so is Mrs. Catwoman here.

P.S. Get that sexy leather bra and that rose tattoo. Tie up your man/woman and have fun ! xoxo.

Pile 4

4 Of Cups, The Chariot

Hello brat! No worries, we can all be brats sometimes *wink,wink*.

Little lady, your inner Goddess is FED UP. She is a go getter and she is done watching you be a pessimist. She wants you to get some fuel into this fire.

Your Venus sign can be indicative of what your inner Goddess is like. She is pretty private and this can indicate issues with how you express her energy. All in all, she comes up when you think of what makes you grateful ! Feed her!

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #level up journey #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #seduction #innergoddess #sacred feminine #divine feminine #female worship #feminine energy

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electric-guillotines · 20 days ago

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In The Wake of Fire - Pt.2

"Like Heroes Do"

WandaNat x F!OC Summary: The Avengers respond to a devastating attack in Boston, working with first responders to save as many lives as they can. When it seems like there's no one left to find, Wanda feels the awakening of one more survivor right at ground zero where no one should have survived...

Content: Inferred child death, brief descriptions of finding bodies in rubble Words: 4, 480

Can also be read over on [Ao3]

Taglist: @bishovapls

<<Start | <Back || Index || Forward> | End>>

Boston, MA 3:00 pm

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time Nick asked them for help with disaster relief, but as they touched down and got to work they all knew it was going to be bad. First responders rushed back and forth like ant columns through rows upon rows of shattered buildings, organising staging areas and trauma aid stations, tending to the wounded, fighting what fires they could and desperately searching the wreckage of buildings for signs of life.

Police directed the walking wounded to safety, working with the National Guard to lock down the roads so only emergency services could enter the disaster zone.

Despite the efforts of firefighters, smoke filled the sky, turning the sun a bloody orange as ash trickled down like grey snow, coating everything.

The air held a desperate sort of tension to it, the sound of people barking orders, wailing sirens, and fearful cries mixing together in a familiar chorus.

The Avengers organised quickly, making themselves available. Some split off to help with the injured, there were more every minute, crushed by falling buildings, hit by flying debris, or burned by the fires started when mains broke and wires tore. Others worked quickly to help combat the flames, stopping it from spreading either by cutting it off at the source or creating fire breaks.

Those who could help find people in the rubble by digging them out and holding up heavy debris to make space, or sense where they were in the first place, were quickly put to work by the S&R teams.

For her part, Natasha kept an eye out for anyone she could help while gathering intel, either talking to survivors who were able to give her something coherent or looking at the bodies of those already dead.

One man in particular, a Mr Eddie Muller, managed to paint the clearest picture of what happened thus far, sitting on a bollard and holding a cold pack to his brow, dishevelled and bloody, but alive.

“I’d just finished some work, boss has been riding my ass wicked hard the last few weeks so I figured I’d go to the café for lunch, treat myself to something sweet, you know?” he recalled, frowning in concentration. “I see this girl sitting outside with something metal in her hands looking like she didn’t know what it was either, and mind you, I’m a married man, I weren’t looking at her like that but she stood out, one of them alt types.”

“Alt types?” Natasha interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Can you describe her more for me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she was… I wanna say early to mid-twenties looking? Black hair, ears full of piercings, had one of her face too.” Eddie paused to demonstrate by placing his index and thumb below the corners of his mouth. “Think they call ‘em snake bites? Anyway, black hair, piercings, almost Italian look to her, you know, the skin, the nose–I thinkher eyes were blue but I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

“What was she wearing?”

“Cargo pants and a light jacket, black, and dark blue with those hi-vis stripes. Didn’t see what kinda shoes.”

Natasha nodded slowly. “And what about the object she was holding?”

A nauseous look crossed his face and he took in a breath, swallowing hard. “Fuck, sorry, I can do this,” he said, clearing his throat. “Pardon my language, miss.”

She smiled, offering as disarming a look as she could. “You know who I am, you don’t think I’ve said and heard worse?”

Eddie laughed a little. “I believe that but Ma would kill me for swearing in front of a lady.”

“I think she’ll forgive you today.”

“I hope so. Today… today sucked.”

She gave him another moment to collect himself, breathing until the nausea passed.

With a resolute shake of his head, Eddie continued. “I don’t know what it was, but like I said she didn’t seem to know either, looking at it like an alien gave it to her or something. Looked like two pyramids stuck together.”

He swallowed, voice tightening. “That’s uh… that’s when it started glowing. She got up from her chair and it looked like she was trying to kick it off, like it was stuck to her, I guess?”

“Then what?”

“She got up on the table and started yelling that she had a bomb.”

The words settled on her like a lead blanket.

Natasha remained outwardly neutral as she asked, “you’re sure she couldn’t drop it?”

Eddie looked at her, nodding fervently. “She tried to get it off her hands! Had her foot against it and everything, pushed so hard I thought she was gonna pop a joint. I didn’t know what the hell was happening, what I was looking at, I…” he trailed off, face pinching in guilt. “I should have helped her, I could see she was struggling with something, but I just watched. Then she was yelling, and people started to panic and run away from her.”

His lips pressed into a thin, tight line. “And so did I. I ran and ended up in a little basement store down the way. I don’t know what happened to her.��

Pushing the implications to the back of her mind, Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder. “People freeze, Mr Muller. When something unknown or overwhelming happens, we don’t always know how to respond.”

Eddie laughed weakly, his eyes watery as he looked up at her. “You going to tell me superheroes freeze too?”

Natasha smiled sadly at him. “More than we’d like to admit. We’re not invulnerable, we’re just doing our best, and so are you. You survived, and I’m sure your family would love to know that.”

Nodding, Eddie got to his feet with a slight wobble. “Thank you, ma’am. Stay safe out there, you hear?”

She nodded and let him go, watching him disappear into the throng of moving bodies.

There was someone at the centre of the blast, a girl who warned people to get away from her after failing to remove an unknown device from her hands. The implications were many, with razor fine edges dipped in a corrosive sort of poison.

An unwilling victim to a horrific crime.

Breathing deeply, Natasha continued her work with iron-clad professionalism.

No one else gave her quite as much as Mr Muller, people who were close enough to witness the girl and still be alive were vanishingly rare, but those she could find corroborated his story. A girl, a device, and screamed warnings. Those far from the source reported a dome of energy that swelled outward like a bubble, engulfing buildings and people alike only to stop and abruptly collapse in on itself.

Every little detail, including Muller’s comments, she relayed back to her team as she picked through the buildings, shifting heavy rubble herself when she could safely do so, and calling out when she needed more hands. Her serum wasn’t quite the same as Steve’s but that never slowed her down before and she wasn’t about to start now.

Between the living and the dead, the latter troubled her more. People were easy enough to pick apart but a corpse was its own silent puzzle and despite seeing more than most ever would, Natasha found many of them perplexing.

The COD for some was obvious, taken out by debris, impaled or struck in the head, crushed by rubble. Those she moved on from quickly. It was the bodies that had no clear answer that she lingered on, counting each one she came across and creating a mental map of their locations. As she counted, winding her way through the shattered streets with calm, purposeful steps over glass, brick, and blood, Natasha came to the realization that the strange corpses grew more frequent the closer they fell to the source of the blast.

She opened the team comms. “Coming across a lot of fatalities without a clear sign of what killed them,” she said, keeping her tone low. “More of them the closer I get to ground zero. Sam, what can you see up there?”

“Less than I’d like,” he responded. “Respirator’s keeping me in the clear but visibility is bad. Just a sec.”

Sam’s winged form flew overhead, passing over the broken streets and downhill towards the source of the explosion. From her vantage, Natasha could see that Massachusetts General Hospital had lost a few of its buildings in the blast, but most of it was still intact.

Not that it meant much for the people in the collapsed buildings. A hotel, a paediatric hospital, multiple centres that specialized in different diseases and research–the loss was catastrophic.

She tried not to think about the children, hoping that some would be found and rescued from the rubble but hoping more than anything that if they did die, they died quickly.

Sam’s voice came over comms. “I see more bodies closer to the crater.”

His tone was clipped, pensive.

“What are you thinking, Sergeant?” asked Rhodey.

After a moment, Sam spoke again. “The crater is too big. I hate to say this, but there should be more destruction, way more. It’s about as wide as a football field. Almost looks like it’s broken into rings like a tree trunk. And it’s glowing like they said.”

Nick updated them on the way over, passing on any new intel that could prepare them for what was on the ground. The only real info on ground zero was the eerie blue glow it emitted.

“Don’t get too close there, Hotwings,” said Tony, his light tone underpinned by the warning, “I’m still trying to get a read on the energy we’re dealing with and I’d prefer you didn’t sterilise yourself.”

Sam chuckled, a little bit of levity in the otherwise serious conversation. “Yeah, I’d prefer that too, good call.”

The hours ticked by slowly, blurring together in a wash of smoke and human suffering as the team worked to find and save as many lives as they could, but the number of dead climbed fast, easily entering the thousands as more and more they found only limp, broken limbs and empty eyes. The whine of distressed rescue dogs slowly grew as the living steadily trickled from the area and left only the lifeless behind.

As night set in, emergency flood lights lit the streets in stark, sterile blooms, cables snaking everywhere from triage tents to command posts to checkpoints, ensuring visibility.

Finally making her way to the team’s rallying point, the Beacon Hill Monument, Natasha allowed some of the day’s weight to slip off her shoulders once she saw the tent set up for them. Inside, everyone was in the same state, long, tired faces, suits smudged by dust, ash, blood, and sweat as they sat scattered around the tent in various states of exhaustion.

Tony saw her first, his suit standing empty at the head of the table in the middle. He was looking at a holographic projection of the area, littered with different coloured regions and dots, each labelled in clear language to show body locations, dangerous buildings, and areas already searched.

He grabbed a bottle from the table and threw it at her with a worn smile. “You look like crap, Romanoff.”

She caught it easily, eyeing the cloudy fluid. “Thanks, so do you,” she said easily. “What flavour?”

He refocused on the map with a little snap of his fingers. “Lemon lime.”

She shrugged, moving to stand beside him as she took a long drink of much needed electrolytes, downing half the bottle and feeling slightly more human for it. “Could be worse,” she said, replacing the cap. “You could’ve ordered blueberry again.”

“I don’t understand how you screw up the taste of blueberries like that, it should be illegal. I should make it illegal!”

“The sanctity of blueberries, the true battle of our time.”

He laughed at that, and Natasha allowed herself to laugh with him, a tiny reprieve from the weight of everything they’d seen and done today.

Sighing, Tony sobered and adjusted a region on the map. “It’s bad,” he said, quiet, contemplative, as if saying it too loudly would make it true. His mind had worked out the numbers faster than anyone, figuring out how many people lived in the affected area on the flight over, the average pedestrian traffic in the area, the busiest days of each store in the area–combined with the numbers they had so far and they were looking at tens of thousands of casualties.

Natasha crossed her arms, taking in every detail on the map. “Yeah,” she said, “it is. But we’re doing what we can, Tony.”

He inhaled sharply, throwing her a tight smile. “What we can,” he echoed, “yeah.”

Clearing his throat, Tony pointed at the crater region on the map. “Wilson was right. To make a crater like that you’d need to drop at least five-six kilotons. Our strongest non-nuclear ordnance comes up to 0.015 kilotons. This should have flattened West End andBeacon Hill. We should be looking at about 40,000 dead, 100,000 injured, at minimum.” He gestured wide to the surrounding area, “everything that can burn in this region should have, but the fires were from broken gas lines, damaged electrics, not thermal radiation because there wasn’t any.”

He paused, his jaw flexing, eyes boring into the map as if it would tell him something he didn’t already know.

Natasha didn’t say anything, waiting on Tony’s mind to work its way back. She could see the gears turning in his head, the tension in his shoulders, the subtle but insistent shadow of guilt as he measured the weight of his history against the good he could do now.

Tony shook his head, shifting the map until it centred the crater.

Wetting his lips, he continued his thought. “Fury had the right idea, it was an energy blast but more than that I think the energy itself was just a by-product of what was really happening.”

He picked up his tablet from the table, bringing up an array of graphs showing different readings. “I believe what this ‘bomb’ actually did was anchor its immediate surroundings, what is now the crater, to another dimension.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

Tony glanced at her. “Yeah, I know how it sounds,” he sighed. “I need more time to study it but the ground down there is different, like something charged it with energy, and the energy itself is electromagnetic radiation, but I’ve never seen it like this. The frequency fluctuates, sometimes it's radio waves, sometimes it's ultraviolet, but the change is steady, rhythmic, like a heartbeat, or breathing.”

“That sounds disturbingly alive, Tony.”

“I don’t like it either.”

She smiled drily at him. “You’ll figure it out. You love mysteries.”

A small but genuine smile reached his face. “I do love a good mystery,” he echoed, nodding sagely. “Banner and I will figure it out. We’re gonna need to take samples of the ground.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he gestured deeper into the sectioned tent. “Maximoff’s through there, by the way, came back about ten minutes ago with Rogers.”

“She had one of these yet?”

“Gave her one when she came in.”

Natasha thanked him and made her way through, finding Steve and Wanda sitting and talking quietly, both of them holding empty water bottles.

They looked up at her arrival and Wanda smiled, her shoulders dropping in relief. She stood and quickly approached, pulling Natasha into a tight hug that threatened to crush the air from her body.

Something hard and tangled finally loosened in her chest and Natasha sighed, winding her arms around Wanda and closing her eyes, sinking into the closeness, letting herself feel the weight of Wanda’s body in her arms. Sweat stuck to them both but the faint scent of lavender, verbena and white tea leaves still valiantly clung to Wanda, putting a smile on Natasha’s face.

Finally pulling away, Wanda brushed some loose hair out of Natasha’s eyes. She opened her mouth but closed it quickly, her brow pinching, cracks showing through the mask of stability she wore.

Natasha pressed their brows together, “I know, detka (babe),” she whispered.

A mission like this was bound to bring up memories, a devastated cityscape, civilians caught in the middle, the cries of the dead and dying echoing through the shattered streets until only the chatter of first responders remained.

Wanda nodded with a weak smile, acknowledging the silent question in Natasha’s eyes; are you okay?

Sighing, Natasha leaned just far enough to see Steve sitting in polite silence, the lower half of his face a mess of soot and sweat lines. A thin line of it ringed his eyes.

“I’m not here,” he said lightly, a teasing smile on his face as he held up his hands.

Despite the attempt at levity, he looked just as worn out. She knew he would be out there again soon, searching, digging, trying to beat the odds, trying to make a difference like a man who had something to make up for when she knew damn well he didn’t.

Natasha smirked, sitting down with Wanda beside her. “You look like shit, Rogers.”

A bark of laughter slipped out of him. “Wait, I’ve learned,” he said, lifting a hand.

He reached into a pant pocket and pulled out a palm mirror, holding it up to her. “Look who’s talking.”

Amused, she tilted her head to see her reflection. She was just as streaked with ash and sweat as the rest of them and her braid was markedly messier than when they landed. She shrugged, smiling at him, “I’ve looked worse.”

He chuckled, putting the mirror away. “Fair.”

Glancing at Wanda, he said, “you should really get some rest. A lot of people wouldn’t have been found if not for you, you’ve done enough.”

Frustration tightened Wanda’s jaw. “I know. I want to do more but,” she paused, struggling with something bitter. “I would do more but we’ve been at this for hours and there’s barely anyone left alive now.”

The words hit like a hammer to the chest, solid and shattering.

Wanda winced, not looking at either of them, though her hand tightened on Natasha’s. “I want to do one more sweep for Tony’s map, I just don’t expect to find anyone else to rescue.”

Steve nodded slowly, rising from his chair. He put a hand on her shoulder and waited until she looked at him. “Then we, all of us, have done what we can. Right?” he said, eyes flicking to Natasha.

She squeezed Wanda’s hand. “Like he said, there are people alive now who wouldn’t be otherwise. We’ve done our best, the next part is figuring out who did this and how to stop them from doing it again.”

The words took a moment to sink in, to dislodge the unearned guilt of not doing enough, but eventually Wanda nodded, grateful for them both.

Closing her eyes, Wanda focused on reaching out one last time, stretching the filaments of her consciousness in search of others like roots seeking water.

The flash gave them only a second’s warning before a deafening crack of thunder broke the air over their heads.

Natasha leapt to her feet.

Steve shoved his helmet back on.

It wasn’t followed by more flashes so much as a bright blue persistent glow, the crack becoming a vibrating roar that rattled in their chests.

Wanda jerked backwards as if struck, her eyes flying open with a look of horror. “The crater!” she gasped. “There’s someone down there!”

The team mobilized quickly, rushing down to the crater’s edge where a storm of lightning bellowed like the roar of a wounded dragon. It coiled and twisted, flickering through the air and bleeding in and out of the ground where cracks gave way to a strange, crystalline sheen and a cold blue light.

Shattered infrastructure surrounded the crater in all directions, a dark line of carbonised material splitting the crater itself into rings. Water sprayed into the air from broken pipes, cars lay wrecked and half buried in rubble, and the bodies of too many people were still yet to be collected, empty and alone amidst the destruction.

Wanda couldn’t let herself dwell on any of that, narrowing her attention to the source of the storm, a figure wreathed in crackling light at the centre of ground zero. A girl, hovering just a foot in the air.

“You know who would be great right now?” said Tony, a little exasperated, “Thor.”

“Hey, spending time with family is important,” Clint fired back, staring at the storm with more than a little apprehension. “Especially with siblings like his.”

Steve threw a questioning glance over at Bruce who slowly shook his head.

“I mean,” he started, anxiously watching each arc of lightning crash against the ground. “I really don’t think I want to find out what happens when Hulk convulses, do you?”

“Tranquiliser probably won’t even make it through,” said Sam, hand to his visor as he analysed the conditions at the centre. “You see gravity doing weird shit down there, Stark?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I sure do.”

Wanda could feel Natasha’s eyes on her, quiet and guarded, and all too familiar with the way she thought.

“I can do it,” she said, loud and firm so they heard her over the din. “I can reach her.”

The rest of the team turned to face her, each of them looking concerned. She squared her shoulders, hands already glowing with a second skin of shimmering scarlet.

All she had to do was protect herself long enough to reach the girl and either force her asleep or bring her down gently if possible.

Steve levelled a serious look at her. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Wanda answered him with a voice like iron. “Yes.”

Something unspoken passed between them, a quiet understanding; one more life saved, another difference made.

He nodded. “Alright, we’ll be ready to follow you in when it stops.”

Tony chimed in, “on the plus side, exposure shouldn’t give us more than a sunburn. Wavelength still hasn’t gone any higher than UV but… don’t linger. Just in case.”

With that settled, Wanda turned to find Natasha watching her with arms folded, spine straight and face schooled into its usual neutrality. She knew better, of course, and she stole precious seconds to bring Natasha’s brow to her own.

“Just come back to me, alright?” Natasha said, almost lost in the noise.

Wanda pulled away from her with a tender kiss, a meaningful smile on her lips. “I will, always.”

Descending into the crater was a slow, arduous march. As soon as she entered, Wanda could feel the very air itself pushing against her presence, prickling her skin like static, the overwhelming chemical tang of ozone rising from the ground. It almost felt like the ground itself growled at her passage, thin tendrils of electricity arcing out of glowing wounds and probing at her defences, biting, stinging, a thousand little wasps harrying her beneath the thunderous assault from above.

But she held firm.

She had to.

There was still one more life to save.

And so, with inexorable will, Wanda crossed the ravaged earth, each step in defiance of the storm that wanted to obliterate her, crashing down in waves.

By the time she reached the centre she was drenched in sweat, her focus unwavering even as the storm grew thicker.

Wanda could see the girl clearly now, caught in a silent scream, her body taut, eyes wide in terror and completely lost in the glow.

She reached out, her magic flaring as she brought their minds together.

The wave of fear almost knocked her off-balance.

MAKE IT STOP PLEASE MAKE IT STOP PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Sharp and efficient, Wanda swept her hands out in a horizontal arc, subduing the girl’s consciousness until her eyes rolled and her body slackened.

The storm broke.

Silence rushed in and Wanda lunged forward, dropping to her knees as the girl fell to the ground, limp and unconscious, and alive. The girl was a mess of tattered clothes, ash, blood, and burns, thin sparks of electricity jumping between her twitching fingers.

She should be dead.

Hurried footsteps brought Wanda out of her thoughts and she finally dropped her magic, exhaustion setting in fast.

Medics pulled the girl onto a stretcher and Natasha helped her stand, knowing she would want to follow.

With Natasha by her side, Wanda settled on some rubble near where the medics worked and allowed herself to breathe, blinking back some clarity now that she wasn’t focused on keeping the storm at bay.

Natasha pulled a sachet of energy gel from her utility belt and held it out wordlessly, her eyes intent.

Warmth bloomed in Wanda’s chest and she took the sachet, pressing a kiss to the back of Natasha’s hand. “Thank you, mila (sweetheart).”

A faint flush crept across Natasha’s face. “You were amazing,” she said quietly, like a secret, “terrifying, but amazing. I’m proud of you.”

The words settled into her like a hug, firm and unyielding, carrying the admiration Natasha held for her always but especially when Wanda did something impressive with her powers.

It was her turn to blush and Wanda smiled, a hint of mischief brightening her eyes. “Flattery will get you far, Agent Romanoff.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of Natasha’s mouth, the tease hanging between them for a second before she sighed and turned her attention back to the medics.

Wanda made short work of the gel, grateful for the boost.

The medics worked diligently, though they seemed to have trouble touching the girl, pulling their hands back as if shocked and shaking the feeling back into them. Nonetheless they worked as best they could, treating her like any other patient.

Wanda took the time to actually look at the girl while they worked, noting her black hair, pierced ears, snake bite, and roman nose.

Natasha sighed. “She matches the description.”

“Then we’ll need to talk to her.”

“Steve and I will go to the hospital with her, we can’t let her out of our sight, especially if she sparks off like that again. But you need to rest.”

Wanda had opened her mouth to protest but relented at the subtle worry on Natasha’s face, letting her head drop. “You’re impossible,” she muttered fondly.

Natasha sat down next to her. “And yet,” she teased.

The smile came easy and warm and Wanda playfully nudged her shoulder against Natasha’s. “And yet,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

Sam’s voice came over comms. “Working on sample collection right now. How’s the kid?”

Natasha responded smoothly. “Alive and holding steady by the looks of it. Steve, we’re going with her when the medics are done. I’ll let Fury know where to meet us.”

Steve came through with a steady, “roger that.”

One of the EMTs approached them, a young man who looked bone tired despite the resolute set of his jaw.

“We have Jane Doe ready for transport to Mass General if any of you are planning to come with us.”

Wanda blinked, a flicker of recognition running through her. “Kassidy MacGrath,” she corrected, soft and distant as she plucked the thought like a feather. “When I connected with her there was a lot of noise, but that is her name.”

He frowned slightly, confused, but relayed that to his colleagues. “Don’t suppose you caught her medical history too?” he joked weakly, sobering when she shook her head. “Figures.”

Steve approached from the crater, nodding to them. “Good to go?”

They both stood, Wanda kissing Natasha’s hand one more time before they parted. “I’ll head back to the point,” she said, “don’t get into trouble without me.”

Natasha smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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#wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #wandanat #marvel cinematic universe #wanda x oc #natasha romanoff #mcu #avengers #mcu fanfiction #lesbian #wlw fanfic #Natasha x oc #fic: in the wake of fire

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shiorimakibawrites · 11 months ago

Text

Relax (Daredevil Fan Fic)

Inspired by the above gif and that shower scene in the leaked Daredevil: Born Again trailer. Then given life by the enabling of Murdock's Tuna Team.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: ~3500 Warnings: Black Suit Daredevil, Explicit sexual content including shower sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexual fantasies (binding, male receiving oral sex, edging, p in v sex), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, clothed sex (one partner naked), marking Summary: After a long day, you tried to relax in the shower. General Masterlist / Matt Murdock Masterlist Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @sleepysleepymom, @bellaxgiornata, @yarrystyleeza AO3 Link

Relax

You closed the door behind you. It was such a relief to be home. Your day had been terrible. The computer at work kept having problems. To the point that you had been sorely tempted to throw it out the window. Your office was five stories up. It would make a very satisfying crash when it hit the ground . . . well, satisfying until you got fired for destroying office property.

Your boss wasn’t very sympathetic about the delays. And that was putting it mildly. It soon became just as tempting to defenestrate her along with the computer. After all, you knew a really good lawyer . . . But in the end, you gritted your teeth and restrained yourself.

At least you weren’t the only one she had been an absolute nightmare to. The poor kid from IT had also gotten it from barrels.

It eventually got fixed but not before you had to cancel your lunch plans with Matt. Had to warn him that you were probably working late.

And you had. Not as late as you feared but late enough that you were certain that you had missed Matt. Again.

The journey home after work did nothing to improve your mood. Today had been unbearably hot and humid. The sun might have gone down but the temperature hadn’t. It didn’t take long to start sweating. Not for the first time, you wished your office didn’t have such a strict dress code. Even your lightest weight suit was too warm for this weather.

As expected, the apartment was empty and silent. But you couldn’t say that Matt’s absence from the apartment wasn’t a disappointment. You wanted a hug. You had a shitty day. You were tired. You were frustrated. Your feet hurt. You felt the pressure in your temples that signaled an oncoming migraine. You could really use the comfort of having Matt’s strong arms around you, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

Or dirty promises, your mind suggested. Your husband was equally good at both. But what made his dirty promises so effective was that you knew they weren’t idle boosting. He always delivered. You vividly remembered the one he had made on your wedding night.

What I want, Mrs. Murdock, is for you to ruin these sheets. So I’m going to bury my face in that beautiful pussy until you can’t walk tomorrow.

And he had. To this day, you have no idea how many orgasms it was. There were at least four but after that it started to get hazy.

You squeezed your thighs together. Just the memory of that night was enough to awaken a familiar ache between your legs. If Matt was here, he’d be giving you that knowing smirk.

Assuming the reek of drying sweat didn’t put him off entirely. Maybe you should take a shower . . . Yeah, a shower sounded good. It would help relax you after such a terrible day and you wouldn’t stink when your husband returned. Win-win.

You kicked off your heels, nudging them under the bench next to Matt’s leather shoes with your foot. Your briefcase and purse, you just dropped onto one of the living room chairs. The one that had the jacket and tie Matt had worn this morning draped across the back. It was joined by your own suit jacket, then you made a beeline for the bathroom.

You turned on the water, then adjusted the temperature to your preference. Peeling off your clothes was so satisfying . . . especially your bra. Taking off your bra was usually one of the best things about coming home but today? Getting the sweaty thing off felt particularly good. You dropped it in with the rest of your clothes piled in the corner. Another thing to tidy up later.

You groaned in relief when you stepped under the spray. The heat immediately began seeping into your muscles. You hadn’t realized just how tighter you were in your neck and upper back until it started to loosen. Truly, hot water on tap was one of human civilization’s greatest luxuries.

You had ignored your earlier arousal while you washed but afterward, your cunt reminded you that it had been a while you and Matt had had sex. Well, a while for the two of you. Technically a week wasn’t all that long. But it sure felt like it to your cunt which had gotten used to regular attention.

Inevitably your mind slipped back to the last time you had gotten that attention. Sunday morning, just before things decided to get hectic. You had woken up to Matt kissing your neck. You rolled over and kissed him. The kiss was soft despite the very eager cock pressed tightly against your ass. His hands had been just as gentle, almost reverent in their exploration. Slowly building the heat until he slide inside you with one of those beautiful moans. His pace remained unhurried, slowly fucking . . . no, making love to you until you were almost sobbing. There was no almost about it, when he ate you out afterward.

Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing. It wanted Matt . . . but Matt wasn’t here . . . . you could wait for his return but who knows when that would be . . . sometimes Matt was out there until the wee hours of the morning. You couldn’t wait that long. You needed some relief now.

The decision to slip your hand between your thighs wasn’t hard. You moaned at the feeling. It had been a long time since you had last touched yourself. Matt was more than happy to take care of your needs . . . And it seemed like every time you touched yourself in front of him, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself for long . . . maybe you should tie him up . . .

You worked a single finger into yourself . . . it was a pretty picture. Matt spread out on the bed, naked save for the ropes binding his hands above his head. Unable to touch you while you did whatever you wanted to him. You could trace every muscle, first with your fingertips, then with your mouth, slowly making your way to his cock.

Or maybe, you thought biting your lip as you worked in another finger, maybe you wouldn’t touch him at all. You would touch yourself. Drive Matt crazy with the scent of your arousal, the sounds of your pleasure . . . Past attempts trying this had always ended when Matt couldn’t stay away. Sweetheart, you smell so good. I need to taste you.

But maybe if you tied him down, you’d get him begging. Then maybe you would untie him. Or maybe you would just ride him. Turn him into the same moaning mess he made you . . .

You let out a stuttering moan at the image, increasing the movement of your fingers in and out. Close, you were getting close . . .

The bathroom door opened. You let out a shriek, your fingers slipping out of you. Heart pounding with sudden fear, you whirled around to face the intruder . . .

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

Matt . . . the fear drained out of you. “Fuck, Matt.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Unlike all the times that he had startled you to amuse himself, he sounded genuinely remorseful. You turned to look at him and had another surprise. He was wearing the black suit. You weren’t expecting that. And neither was your cunt.

You had always had a weakness for the black suit. You couldn’t really explain why. The red suit was just as tight. Just as sexy in its own way. Could get you all hot and bothered. But there was something about the black suit. It was different. And that undefinable difference made you feel feral.

Especially, you squinted through the steam, when said suit was soaking wet. Turning the already tight clothing into something painted on. You could see every ridge and crevice of his torso and abdominals. And the outline of his cock . . . already erect . . . your cunt clenched again, desperately aching for him to be inside you again.

Add in the beard Matt had started growing, a beard lightly peppered with gray . . . if you hadn’t been wet before, you certainly would be now.

And Matt knew it. You could see it in that smug, little smirk that replaced the contrite look. He started removing his gloves.

“Hey, babe,” You said, trying to play it cool. With limited success. “You’re home early. Got too wet?”

The smirk only grew. “No but I think someone here is.”

You felt warmth spread across your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Sweetheart, do you think I can’t smell how wet you are?” He moved closer. Even barefoot, that predatory slink sent shivers down your spine.

But not from fear.

He herded you toward the back. You gasped at the bite of the cool tiles but your attention was rapidly pulled back to the man in front of you. His hands were braced on the wall either side of your head, boxing you in. He leaned in close, put his mouth right by your ear.

“Because I can.” His voice was deep as it went, a low rumble like thunder. You squirmed, your breath hitching. You had heard his Devil voice before. Matt had very quickly figured that you found his voice a turn on, his Devil even more so. But you hadn’t heard him using the Devil voice while wearing the black suit. The combination was dizzyingly hot. “I smelled your pussy and how thoroughly drenched it is the second I walked in the door.”

“I heard those breathy little moans as you touched yourself from a block away. I heard you panting out my name when you started fingering yourself.” He nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing against a sensitive spot. You felt your skin pebble and you shivered at the sensation. “Has my sweet girl been missing me?”

“Yes,” you said. Your voice had gone breathy. “I’ve barely even seen you this week, Matty.”

Matt made a thoughtful humming noise, kissing your neck. “And then I ruined your orgasm. Let’s fix that.”

He punctuated that promise with a gentle nip. You shuddered, your breath hitching as his mouth continued to work that part of your neck with his lips, teeth, and tongue. It was a sensitive spot. Matt always paid it some attention, sometimes leaving a mark.

Today seemed to be one of those times.

His hands didn’t remain idle. One reached down to cup your left breast, kneading the soft flesh. You couldn’t have contained that breathy moan if you wanted to. It felt so good to have his hands back on you. It really had been too long since he touched you. A second, louder moan spilled out of your mouth when his fingers gently pinched the stiff nipple, then started rolling it between his fingers.

The other hand continued its downward journey until it was cupping your mound. You gasped, your head thrown back against the tile as a single finger slipped between your folds. He slid through your folds a few times, coating his finger in your slick. Before slipping down to trace your entrance. A deep, feral noise rumbled out of his chest.

“You are so fucking wet,” Matt growled into your neck. “All this mine?”

“Y-yes,” You said, your voice rising in pitch as his finger slid inside you. It felt so good. Matt’s fingers were longer and thicker than yours. Not quite as thick as two of your fingers. You bite your lip. You needed more. And because Matt knew your body inside and out, he didn’t need to be told to start working in a second finger. Now you could feel the stretch, the fullness that had been missing before. You threw your head back against the tile, moaning.

“Just like that, sweet girl,” he said. “Give me those beautiful sounds.”

The wave had already begun to build but it climbed higher and higher with each thrust of his fingers, each brush of that spongy spot deep inside that you couldn’t reach with your own fingers. The whines you let out when his hand abandoned your breast rapidly turned into whimpers when his fingers began rubbing circles on your clit.

The little nub was already swollen and sensitive from your almost orgasm. It didn’t take much attention to it for that wave to crest, toppling over into bliss. Bliss that

The little nub was already sensitive from your almost orgasm. It didn’t take much for that wave to crest, topple over as you came. Waves of bliss that rippled through your body as Matt’s hands continued their work. Not stopping until your inner walls stopped squeezing tight on his fingers. Only then did his fingers slip out of you and away from your clit.

Panting, you slumped back against the tile wall. Your shaky legs couldn’t hold your body upright without the help. The shaking only got worse when Matt lifted his head. Even with his mask still on, you knew that look. That feral hunger. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you against the wall.

Then he sank down to his knees.

You bite your bottom lip, barely managing to swallow an embarrassingly loud moan. Because that . . . the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen kneeling between your legs as the shower continued to pour water down on you . . . Despite just having an orgasm, your cunt throbbed with need. Need that only swelled when Matt grabbed one leg and hoisted over his shoulder, leaving you open to him.

Matt ignored your eager cunt in favor of your inner thigh. Another sensitive spot that he loved leaving marks on. No one but you would ever see it but he knew you liked the physical reminder of his ardor, enjoyed the slight sting when something brushed the mark. Lately that secret pleasure has increased with the addition of beard burn. Your panting picked up as he lighty bit down on that spot. It felt good. It felt so, so good.

But it wasn’t what you needed.

“Matt,” you whined, trying to squirm but held still by the hands gripping your hips. “Please.”

“Hmmm? Does my sweet girl want something?” he asked, only lifting his head enough to speak. The teasing brush of his lips against already sensitive skin only increased your attempts to squirm. But you couldn’t. All you could do was dig the heel of your foot against his back.

To no avail. He was clearly content to wait for you to break. It didn’t take long.

“Your mouth,” you begged. “Please Matty, eat me out.”

“One condition.”

“Anything!”

You could more feel than see the smirk on his face. “You better not swallow any more noises. I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“But the neighbors . . .”

“Fuck the neighbors,” he growled into your thigh. “I want to hear you scream.”

Then his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked. You cried out, hands scrambling on the tile. The pleasure was so intense that it bordered on painful. But Matt was merciless, not letting up on the pressure until you were screaming his name as you came for the second time.

“Matt,” you whimpered when his mouth lowered down to lap noisily at your soaked entrance with his usual enthusiasm, sending sparks of white-hot pleasure up your spine. It was so good. It was too much. You didn’t know if you wanted to push your cunt closer to his mouth or pull away.

Eventually he was satisfied that he had gotten every drop. Carefully lifting one hand away from your hips to lower your trembling leg off his shoulder. The hand returned to your hips. Good thing as his hands were the only thing keeping you from sliding down the shower floor. A shift, then he was rising back to his feet.

He kissed you. It was a hungry thing, devouring you like he intended to eat you from the mouth down. You could taste the tang of yourself on his tongue. He pressed himself against you, swallowing all your whimpers as he rutted his clothed cock against your bare cunt. Good, it felt so good . . .

His hands shifted again until his arm was under your ass. Then he was lifting you up. Your legs dangled on either side of him, still too wobbly to wrap around his waist. You had a moment of worry that he would slip but your husband was cat-like in his grace as ever. And so strong. Even knowing him for as long as you had, sometimes his strength still surprised you. He effortlessly carried you out of the shower. Not even pausing and shifting your weight to one arm in order to turn off the shower caused him any difficulty.

You thought that he might carry you into the bedroom but apparently Matt was feeling impatient. He plopped you down on the bathroom counter. Then his hands reached down and hurriedly undid his belt buckle. The zipper came down next, Matt letting out a soft sigh of pleasure. With a little difficulty, he pushed down his pants and boxers far enough to free his cock.

Your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing. That particular body part should have been sated but it wasn’t. Not while it was so empty. Not when his cock was right there, long and thick and hard. Not when you could be getting fucked by your Devil.

“Do you want me to be gentle?” He asked, his hands gripping your thighs.

“No.”

He roughly pulled you forward by your thighs until you were on the edge of the counter, then used that same hold to spread your legs wide. You felt him sliding against you, then he was inside you. Sliding all the way in without pausing. You gasped. Even with two orgasms and the earlier fingering, it was still a tight squeeze. Not enough to hurt but you would be feeling this later.

Good. You liked waking up like that, feeling the pleasant ache of your and Matt’s passion for each other.

Before he could even ask, you were demanding, begging. “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

He drew out part way, then back in, and after that there was nothing but his cock inside you. His thrusts were hard and fast, pumping into you with a relentless pace. Just like you asked. All you could do was hang on, hands clinging to his shoulders. One of your legs regained enough strength to wrap around his bare ass.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh and his grunts as he fucked into you seemed oddly loud, ringing with the faint echoiness of the bathroom. Your own cries of pleasure were only slightly muffled by his neck where you had buried your face. You had to bite down on his neck to contain your screams when with a slight adjustment of his hips, he began hitting that spot deep inside you that brought you so much pleasure. He groaned at the press of your teeth into his flesh. Matty loved a bit of pain with his pleasure.

A third wave of pleasure grew, swelled until it became a raging torrent. You could not help but be swept away. You came, wrenching your mouth away from his neck to scream out his name again and again. Your nails dug deep into his shoulder, then he slammed hard into you, pushing himself impossibly. And he came with a beautiful groan, spilling his release inside you.

You had no idea how long you both remained right where you were, breathing hard with his cock still buried deep inside you as he could be. You could feel it twitching as your cunt continued to flutter around it. But gradually the fluttering and the twitching slowed, then stopped. You reached up, hooked your fingers under the edge and pulled off his mask.

You loved your Devil but you also loved your Matt. And you haven't seen much of him this week either.

A sentiment Matt seemed to share, smiling at you. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” you said, smiling back. It was impossible not when he had that dopey, slightly crooked smile on his face. It was almost impossible not to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Which only grew that blissful, peaceful look on his face.

“Our water bill this month is going to be outrageous.”

“Worth it.”

Matt hissed a little when he pulled his cock out. But so did you when he helped clean you up, more than a little sensitive. But you wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. As Matt just said, worth it.

He finally peeled off his sopping wet clothes, hanging them up to dry. Your body tried to muster up the energy for a fourth round after seeing his naked body. But you were too tired. Probably just as well. Your legs were limp noodles. For which Matt lightly teased you as he carried you to the bed.

As you lay snuggled across his side, you said softly, “I love you.”

You never let a day pass without telling Matt that. You never wanted him to doubt that. It had taken too long for you to convince him that you weren’t going anywhere. That you were here to say. That you loved him for him.

“I love you, too,” Matt said, his voice just as soft.

Just as you were about to drift off, an idea floated to the top of your mind.

“Hey Matt?”

A questioning sleepy hum.

“How do you feel about being tied up?”

To be continued . . . in Bound

#daredevil #fan fiction #fan fic #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #a03 link

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lostintransist · 4 days ago

Text

Chiseled Heart | Part 10

When a Heart Hates

AO3 | Part 1

Waking to the sounds of birds, and the quiet shifting of other living things, is one of the most gentle awakenings you have ever experienced. The warmth still lingered in your flesh from König’s hold on you from the fire pit last night. He had delivered you to your room with such soft strength it took so much energy not to cry right into his shoulder that you loved him. The famous line from Mr. Darcy drifted through your mind now, “I never wish to be parted from you from this day.”

Alcohol turned you into such a sap. You couldn’t chance bleeding all over him if he didn’t feel the same. Losing the incandescent joy of his friendship? Unthinkable. All you needed was a sign, something to push you violently into the wind. Hope to god you can fly.

A knock sounds at the door.

Pushing out of bed you shuffle to the door. Pulling it open you find König dressed in slacks and a relaxed-fit long-sleeved t-shirt. He glances up and down your bedtime leggings and overlarge tee slipping off one shoulder and folding his arms. Staring pointedly at his tits and not yours, he speaks.

“Walk?”

“I could use a short walk.” You rub both hands over your face as you say more, “If we handle breakfast today we don’t need to make food again for another two days. That work for you?”

“Ja.”

Blinking the clarity back into your vision you find König’s face is red and still staring at his arms across his chest.

“I need maybe ten minutes. Should I meet you downstairs or knock on your door?”

With a sigh that brought to mind a put-upon pup, König muttered something you thought was downstairs. It didn’t matter though because he turned around and silently walked to the stairs.

Fighting back the giggle tugging at your lips you do your best to meet the timeline you gave yourself. Hair settled, as much as is possible with hair, sunscreen applied, workout clothes on, and shoes in hand you find König waiting for you on the porch. Someone must have dragged a few chairs from the fire pit because you didn’t remember seeing them on your way in yesterday.

Sitting next to him in the cool balm of the morning sun you tie your laces and stand with a stretch. He watches. The scrape of his eyes on the sliver of your soft bits sends shivers down your arms. Okay, body. Enough of that. You have another week before ovulation hits, knock it off.

Turning you offer him a hand.

“Ready to go and look for cool bugs?”

König sighs, a smile toying at his lips, as he settles his hand in yours. It should be noted that several cool bugs were found on the walk.

Breakfast of omelets came together easily and the small touches you could sneak in? Spectacular. König manned the stove and the pan. You would rest a hand on his back and lean around his side to set a bowl of chosen ingredients for the next one being made. Might as well take advantage of the stationary man.

He gets you back though. Him and those fucking pecs.

After breakfast is cleaned up everyone heads to their rooms to change and grab towels and head to the lake. Amara and you chat on the way down the stairs and out the back door. When you make it to the back porch you set your towel along the rail and turn at the exact right moment to get a show.

König, standing alone and closer to the fire pit, takes off his shirt. Your jaw drops.

Firm muscles ripple under scar-littered skin. His back is broader than any of his semi-tight shirts led you to believe. You could stand behind him as he knelt and hid the width of your hips in his shadow. Watching his arm flex as he lifted a bottle of sunblock nearly had your eyes popping from your skull to bark after him like a dog.

Amara is giving you a hard side-eye. “You’re drooling.”

“You’re damn right I’m drooling, you can see him right?” The wide-eyed glace you send between those biteable back muscles has the drool pooling harder.

Danielle appears, leaning across her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Gotta say the lack of ass is a bit of a put-off for me,” she prods casually.

“Good thing he’s not into polyamory then huh?” You stick your tongue out with a glare before moving to join him near the chairs.

You offer to spray his back. König smiles, the scar on his cheek pulling all your attention. Sticking to him like the sunblock you blast over his spine, the morning slips away. He helped you into your life vest after you buckle it wrong three times trying to figure out where each strap went after it disappeared behind your back. He did not require help for his life vest. Granted, he did bring his own.

The two of you were the first ones dragged behind the boat. And the first ones launched nearly into space before hitting water that turned to concrete. The distance between you meant you couldn’t chat. You waved and blew König a kiss instead. Then panicked when he went face down in the water for several long seconds. He doesn’t answer your question when you are both settled on the boat.

He bumps your head lightly with his while muttering something in German you choose to take as ‘don’t worry about it.’

The morning slips away with laughter and the alternating experience of shockingly cold water and baking in the sun. When lunch finally rolls around everyone from the boat changes places with the group of late risers. König is limping. You know he has a bad knee and only now realize he shouldn’t have gotten on the tubes with you.

“Hey, let’s get you some painkillers and a nap, yeah?” You slot yourself under his arm, pulling him close with a hand on his other hip.

“That,” he winced as he shifted his weight forward, “might be wise.”

Settling him in bed after hearing his grunts and groans of changing out of his swimsuit settled something in your chest that ached at his struggle.

Letting your fingers drift over his cheek, you whispered to his already-closing eyes.

“Sleep well.”

The silent ‘I love you’ stayed in your chest, thrashing like a trapped songbird.

König freezes, hand on the doorknob, as your voice drifts in from the porch’s open window. He did not nap often and only managed an hour of rest. You did not know he was awake.

“König? I really like him.”

Your words are full of soft meaning that slaps at him; beating against his skin like the hands of the children who would laugh and pinch him. Even when he was small he had been too big.

“What about him though?” It’s your friend, Danielle, “While, yes, he is built, he doesn’t say much.”

“He seems to treat you well. I guess what we are saying is that we are concerned. He is nothing like your usual type and I want to be sure this isn’t a rebound.” That is Amara, Danielle’s girlfriend.

His hand is starting to cramp around the round knob. He relaxes his hold—nothing in life was built with him in mind. König knows he should move, leave, make his presence known, something. The deepest parts of him, those bits hidden that would flourish if only a spare drop of love could find its way down, made him stay silent and still. No one else had been in the house when he’d woken to use the restroom. The openness of the floor plan would alert him to anyone entering the back door. And so, he stayed.

An annoyed huff leaves your mouth as you must shift in your chair, cloth shifting against the wood. He can imagine you, arms folded tight as you force your shoulders down.

“He is kind, and not only to me. Mara, just yesterday he paid for a stranger’s tank of gas when we stopped to fill up. I hopped out to use the bathroom. There was someone in there so I happened to glance outside and see him getting hugged by a sobbing man with his hand still pressing something to the machine. The two receipts for gas confirmed what happened. He buys gift cards every time he goes to the grocery store and leaves them with the cashier to use for the next needy person who has to put things away.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.

“My usual type is pretty. But pretty men only bring pain. König isn’t pretty.”

König had been stabbed several times, your words punched him with the same force. He shifted his weight to move away, deepest soul shriveling further at the imaginings of your harsh words.

“Have you ever had someone become beautiful before your eyes?”

Your friend must nod or respond in some way he can’t see because you go on.

“He is striking. König’s face is my favorite thing to look at because every time I look he has become more beautiful to me. There is a scar here,” you must be pointing somewhere on your face. Lord knows how many scars he has mapping the landscape of his. It is one of the reasons that he wears a mask even now, though leaving it at home this weekend had been a personal challenge. “That whites out when he smiles big. It’s beautiful.”

Something unfurls in his chest, a desert plant tasting rain.

Danielle again, “But this isn’t a rebound?”

“I don’t see how it can be? He doesn’t know I like him this much; honestly, I would be happy being his friend. If he got a girlfriend I would sob myself to sleep for a few weeks as I make friends with her,” you sniff and clear your throat.

“Ah, hun,” Amara croons at you, “You’ve got it bad for him.”

The watery laugh you let out trails König as he slips away to the front door and away from the private conversation.

Your apartment is empty. Seething rage fills him. It wasn’t supposed to be empty. Your calendar had you home. Home. Home. HOME.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HOME.

The shattering of glass pulls him back. A plant has been sacrificed to his rage. Adding to the insult of your missing presence he pees all over the soil and your plant. Should teach you to not update your calendar like you should.

Masterlist | Chiseled Heart Masterlist | Taglist

Dividers

@ang3lc @warlike-morning @demothers-empty-blog @comat0se @littlelovebug98 @adriennepoison @MedievalPersephone2 @fool-0nthehill @ohdearestmimi

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #konig x female reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig x reader #lostintransist #lostintransit writing #chiseled heart #retired!König #Artist!König #Sculptor!König #female reader

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cccceclipse-askblog · 3 months ago

Note

OOOOO YOU'RE SO IN LOOVVEEEEE OOOHHHH YUOU LOOOVVEEE EACH OTHER OOOHOHOHHOHOH YOU WANNA KISS SO BBAADDDDD AND GET MARRIIEEEEDDDD AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTERRRRRRR OOOOOOOOOOH

#//they’re very love dovey in private but they are both very tsundere in public and i will stand on this hill till the day i die #Slumbering Moon. (Resident Heart)#Awakening Sun. [Mr. Mind]#Dawning Eclipse. ([H&M])#🫐🪻#🏵️🎗️#chonny jash #cjshipping #cj eclipse #jashshipping #cccc eclipse #cj solar eclipse #cccc solar eclipse #too lazy 2 tag #cccc #cj heart #cj mind #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny's charming chaos compendium

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ramp-it-up · 2 years ago

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The Gentleman Returns

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader

Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk. Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap), b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”

Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down.

It had been a long two weeks away.

You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America.

Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.

That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.

He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out.

No.

Absolutely not.

Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house.

He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.

Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.

-------

Two weeks earlier...

Good morning Doctor. How are you?

The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was.

Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.

Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.

Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.

Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness.

You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed.

You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.

“Hello?”

Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.

“Hullo.”

You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty.

“I am perfectly fine.”

You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.

“What happened to your mouth?”

Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.

“… I split my lip when I… “

You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.

“I split my lip on you.”

Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes.

Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.

“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”

Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips.

“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”

Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.

“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”

He watched you blush and had an idea.

“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…”

He panned down to his lap.

“Don’t…please.”

Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.

“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”

When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.

“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”

You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh.

“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”

You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.

“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”

Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.

“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”

He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.

“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”

Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants.

“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?”

Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.

“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”

You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.

“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?”

You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.

Couldn’t he?

With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.

“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”

He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need.

“Oh… Hen-ry…”

Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.

“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”

“Y-yessssss.”

The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.

“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”

Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away.

“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”

“F-f-fuck…!”

You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl.

“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”

You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath.

“H-h-henryyyy!”

Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead.

Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.

“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”

You hummed.

“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”

Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.

“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”

Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“Right.”

Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.

“What was that?”

“I mean, No Sir.”

Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.

“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”

“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”

Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.

You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.

—--

Three days later….

The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.

It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.

“What’s that Hen?”

Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.

“What?”

“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.”

Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.

“Who is it?”

Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little.

Henry’s face lit up.

“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”

Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you.

When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”

Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.

Corey whistled.

“There’s a looker!”

He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.

“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”

Henry grinned.

“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”

Corey was quick to catch him.

“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”

Henry blanched.

“What?...No… we only just…”

“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”

Henry looked around the restaurant.

“Where? No…”

“She’s right there!”

Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.

“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”

Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.

“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”

Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.

“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”

“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”

Henry shared a laugh with his friends.

“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”

—

Later that night:

Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.

“I am so not your type, Henry.”

Henry sighed.

“What are you on about?”

I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”

“How much?”

“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Henry….”

“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”

“So you’re chicken?”

“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”

“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”

“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”

Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.

“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”

You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.

“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”

“See you soon, Doctor.”

—-----

Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.

Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.

You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his.

Damn, you’d missed his face.

Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”

Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”

Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago.

His?

Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two.

You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.

“S-sorry.”

“No problem at all, Doctor.”

You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.

“D’you want some water?”

Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.

“You’ve read my mind.”

The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.

You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.

“Doctor, we need to talk.”

Your heart dropped. You knew it.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”

Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.

“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”

Now you were angry.

“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”

“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”

You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.

Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.

You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly

“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”

He moved again and you stayed put.

“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”

Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him.

“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”

You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you.

“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”

Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.

Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.

“What?”

“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“No. Didn’t want to.”

He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.

“This perfect specimen of a body?”

You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you.

You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.

“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”

Henry cleared his throat.

“Yes.”

Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.

“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”

You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.

“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”

You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.

“But how can you know?”

“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”

“Oh, Henry…”

You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.

“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”

You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.

“What if I take you out?”

Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.

“I- I …” Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’

You looked up at him, determined now.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”

“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!”

Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you.

“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”

Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.

“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”

You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.

Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.

“Please Henry, Give!”

He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide.

“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”

Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.

“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”

You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.

After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.

Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”

Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.

“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”

“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”

Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.

“Take this off…There we go.”

He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.

“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”

“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”

You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.

“Want my cock?”

You shook your head.

“No. Need it.”

And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.

Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.

“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”

You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip.

“Let me…”

The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again.

“…Slide into this warm…”

“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”

He cut you off.

“Shit! Love how you take it.”

“Oh god!”

You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.

“I feel you inside me.”

“D’you feel it getting bigger?”

You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.

“Stretching you out. So, so good.”

“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”

“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”

Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”

“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”

He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.

“Love it when you take it all.”

He smacked you again.

“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.

“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”

Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.

“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”

You did as you were told, your legs shaking.

“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Henry smacked your ass yet again.

“Now keep it up.”

The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.

“Henry…”

Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.

“M’ gonna fuck you….”

Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.

“Oh god!”

You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.

“There…”

Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.

“Please…”

You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.

“…Just…. there…”

Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.

“Oh yeah I like that.”

He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.

“Oh I feel it Henry.”

“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”

“Oh Godddddd!”

Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits.

“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.”

Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.

“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”

“You’re so fucking big….”

Henry grinned into your neck.

“Feel it Doctor…”

Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.

“Look at that cream.”

The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.

“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”

The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.

“Cum… now Doctor…”

Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.

You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.

“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”

He bent you over again.

“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”

He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.

“Am I fucking you properly?”

You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.

“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”

“Oh, shit…sssssss!”

Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls.

“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”

“M…Me toooo!”

—-

You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.

“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”

Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.

“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”

“A sexual muse, hunh.”

Henry pulled you closer to him.

“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”

You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.

“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”

“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”

You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.

——

If you liked it, reblog and let me know!

#henry cavill #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill imagine

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in4ra-e1enora · 1 month ago

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Hamburr Bodyswap!

so, someone asked for a hamburr bodyswap fic… and i thought, oh! i used write fics, and im on a hamilton kick! so, here we are? btw this is only part 1…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun slowly began to rise over New York City, the sky changing colors from purple to pink to red to yellow and so forth. Everyone sleeping contentedly in their homes, with their wives resting next to them. It was a silence that was rare in Hamilton’s mind. With all the work and stress their new president has put onto him, his mind was always loud. Filled with the personal and the political.

He snapped out of his little trance and sat up, stretching to relieve his muscles. Strange. He thought, I don’t remember wearing silk pajamas to bed? His confusion grew as when he scanned the room he was in, it was his own. Was this a prank?

He stood up from the bed and turned around to see if Eliza was there next to him… Oh, shit. His mind immediately went to the most logical thing, I’ve slept with Burr’s wife.

His breath became steady, I’ll be dead if anyone finds out. He rushed to the bathroom and washed his face, but when he got a good look in the mirror, he almost screamed.

That wasn’t Hamilton. Hamilton was a short man with thick black hair and glasses, not a bald bitch whose only life’s purpose is to ruin Hamilton’s… everything.

“I-I’m Burr?” Hamilton said under his breath, not wanting to break the silence.

He shook his head, this had to be a dream. If I’m in Burr’s body… than who’s-

Burr slept quietly in an unfamiliar bed, silence running through his mind, a comfortable silence, that still felt quite strange. His train of thought was broken by a tap on his shoulder.

He yawned, looking up to see…

“What the fuck!?” Burr yelled, sitting up as he was awakened by Eliza Hamilton, standing over him.

“Why are you in-“ He searched the room, “Why am I in your house…?”

Eliza chuckled. “Alexander,” She said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “We don’t have time for jokes, the kids will be up soon.” She kissed his cheek then walked out of the room.

Burr sat there, flabbergasted.

What in the world…? He looked down at his hands, they weren’t his. He looked at his clothes, they weren’t his. He looked at his hair? Definitely wasn’t his.

He sucked in a breath. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t real, it had to be. He stood up and paced the room, thinking of a solution.

Ha! I’m drunk, that’s it! No, that’s not like Burr to get drunk. Am I… high? No, that’s also quite unrealistic.

Some strange magic had occurred, one that made Burr turn into Hamilton and Hamilton… Where is he?

Burr got himself- well, Hamilton dressed and rushed out the door without a word. He had to find his body, he just had to.

Hamilton still sat in the bathroom, curled up into a ball. “Shit, shit, shit!” He whispered, trying to stay calm. The truth was: he had a meeting today, an important one with Washington, Jefferson, and Madison, the kind you couldn’t miss.

Just then, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Aaron, dear?” Theodosia said, voice full of sympathy, “Are you alright in there?”

Hamilton choked, “Y-yes, just a minute!” He grabbed the nearest clothes he could find and got Burr dressed. He never did have good fashion choices…

“Aaron, you have a visitor!” Theososia yelled from the other room.

Hamilton walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. “Who is it?”

“Your friend Alexander,” She said smiling.

Friend? Does Burr think I’m… wait! Body swap, gotta go!

Hamilton ran to the door and opened it slowly. “My god…”

Standing in front of him, was his own body, short with thick black hair and glasses that had personality. Whoever was in Hamilton’s body had dressed it up nicely. Ironed shirt, washed face, and hair tied in a neat bun.

“Hamilton,” Said the shorter man.

“Mr. Burr… sir?” Hamilton replied, squinting a bit, as if he could slightly see Burr in there

“Come with me, now.” Burr held out a hand, which Hamilton hesitated before taking.

“I’ll be back Theos’!” Hamilton said while being dragged out of the house by Burr.

Once the men had reached a secluded area, they stood there for a moment, staring at each other.

Damn I look ugly from this angle, Hamilton thought.

Burr broke the silence, “What the hell did you do this time?”

“What the hell did I do!? What the hell did you do, Burr? One day I’m handsome and the next day I’m bald!”

Burr sighed, pinching the bridge of Hamilton’s nose. “Look, we have to figure out how to fix this, alright? We have an important meeting today that cannot be missed!”

Hamilton nodded, “I understand, but the meeting is only in a few hours, how can we fix this by then?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and there it is! part two coming soon, hopefully!

#hamburr #hamilton musical #alexander hamilton #aaron burr #hamilton #fanfic #body swap

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chroniclesofskz · 3 months ago

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Finding Harmony

Y/N stood at the window of her sleek, modern apartment in bustling Seoul, feeling like a fish out of water. The vibrant cityscape stretched before her, with towering skyscrapers glimmering under the afternoon sun, a far cry from the peaceful Cotswolds she had left behind in England. Memories of idyllic rolling hills and charming cobblestone streets flooded her mind, making her heart ache for what she had left behind. Her father had been offered a prestigious position as the CEO of a new music company, a position that promised lavish perks and a high-profile lifestyle. While the job was a dream come true for him, it felt like a nightmare for her, thrusting her into a world of noise and frenetic energy that she wasn't prepared for.

For weeks, she’d grumbled in frustration, resenting the move that had uprooted her quiet life. “What’s wrong with the Cotswolds?” she often muttered under her breath, feeling like a captive in her own home. Her father, determined to assuage her discontent, hired a bodyguard named Mr. Kim—a stoic but kind-hearted man who had a reputation for being fiercely protective. While his presence was meant to offer her safety, Y/N felt stifled; she longed for independence, not the shadow of someone else following her every move.

One particularly dreary afternoon filled with gray clouds and dreariness, her father handed her his sleek black credit card, an invitation to a shopping spree in hopes of lifting her spirits. “Take Mr. Kim with you,” he insisted, his voice warm but firm. With a reluctant sigh, she agreed, knowing that arguing would only frustrate them both. As she prepared for their outing, she carefully selected her outfit—a mix of old money sophistication that hinted at her upper-class upbringing; knee-high boots that peeked out from under her chic plaid skirt, a cozy sweater vest layered over a crisp white shirt, and a delicate gold chain glinting against her collarbone. The look was polished yet age-appropriate—perfect for someone trying to blend in yet stand out in a city known for its fashion.

With her Louis Vuitton backpack swung over her shoulder, tightly grasping her matching scarf, she stepped out into the cacophony of the streets. The sounds of honking cars, chattering crowds, and street vendors bustling filled her ears, creating a sharp contrast to the serene sound of birds chirping back home. But as the hours flew by, shopping transformed her annoyance into reluctant amusement. New outfits, decadent skincare products, and the latest makeup trends began to fill her sense of style, slowly molding her new identity. She could see her walk-in wardrobe taking on colorful life, her reflection painted in hues she had only dreamt of.

After what felt like an exhausting marathon of shopping, Mr. Kim observed her senses awakening to the city, and recommended they take a break at a nearby café. “You’ve earned it,” he said with a supportive smile. Nodding grudgingly, Y/N followed him to a cozy bar that was rumored to be popular with the youth of Seoul. The anticipation of the unknown filled her with dread; what could possibly go wrong?

As they entered, she felt her heart sink as she caught sight of the karaoke stage illuminated in neon lights. “No way,” she whispered, horror evident in her voice. She hadn’t sung in public since she was twelve, her childhood dreams crushed under the cold weight of her father’s high expectations to make her a part of a girl group. The idea of stepping back into the spotlight made her stomach twist with anxiety.

They settled into their seats, trying to engage in small talk among the vibrant atmosphere filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and applause from those performing. Just as Y/N was starting to feel comfortable, the DJ took the microphone, his exuberant personality shining through as he called for volunteers to join him on stage. With a sinking feeling, she watched as Mr. Kim stood up with newfound vigor, an enthusiastic fire in his eyes. “Hell no!” she protested, her voice sharp and tinged with disbelief, but to her horror, Mr. Kim, acting with authority, insisted, “As your bodyguard, I can make you do this.”

Before she could protest further, the DJ grabbed her hand and pulled her to the front of the stage as if she were caught in an inevitable current. The stage lights blazed down upon her, and panic coursed through her veins. Questions swirled in her mind: What if her voice cracked? What if she forgot the lyrics? With each second that passed, the adrenaline rushed, rendering her momentarily frozen.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the members of Stray Kids—an electrifying boy band known for their hit songs and charming personalities. They had come in for a fun night of karaoke, and the sight sent another wave of anxiety racing through her. What if they laughed? What if they thought she was just another wannabe star, crammed into the same mold that had suffocated her passion so many years ago? However, her thoughts were interrupted as the DJ leaned over and whispered to Mr. Kim, eagerly awaiting the tempo to change. “Play ‘Since You’ve Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson,” he instructed.

“What?” Y/N thought, wide-eyed and incredulous. She was caught off guard, feeling faintly dizzy as the song began to play. She had loved that song back in the day, often belting the lyrics in her room while dreaming about becoming a singer. But now, standing in front of a crowd—especially with Stray Kids watching—her confidence was non-existent. She felt the weight of the spotlight pushing down on her, and her heart raced.

As the music kicked in, she felt a rush of panic settling over her. The first lines tumbled awkwardly from her lips, her voice shaking. She could feel eyes on her, and she suddenly became hyper-aware of how exposed she felt. The initial cheers from the crowd felt like daggers, and she could sense the awkwardness creeping in. However, as the tempo increased and the chorus neared, a flicker of determination sparked within her.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over her. It was time to free herself from the fear that had held her captive for so long. Impulsively, she shifted her stance, letting the rhythm guide her, her feet moving in sync with the beat. As she began to dance and infuse her performance with energy, the skepticism from the audience melted away, replaced by enthusiasm.

The crowd responded instantly, cheering louder as Y/N found her footing. Each note soared with newfound confidence, her voice weaving through the lyrics, hitting every note and effortlessly dancing across the stage. She felt free, unencumbered by her past fears, and with each verse, she grew more animated. The vibrant lights illuminated her transformation, and for that moment, she was no longer Y/N—the girl who felt lost in a new city; she was a performer, a force to be reckoned with.

The performance took on a life of its own. After finishing "Since You’ve Been Gone,", the whole room erupted in applause, the infectious energy pushing her to continue. Without even thinking, she jumped into another song: “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” by Tori Kelly. The crowd remained captivated as they cheered her on, spurring her to dance even more passionately, forgetting her inhibitions.

As she stepped off stage, breathless and euphoric, a palpable wave of adrenaline raced through her. A boy approached her, his charismatic smile disarming her instantly. “You were incredible!” he gushed, and Y/N felt her cheeks flush with warmth. “I’m Felix,” he introduced himself, his animated enthusiasm radiating off him. As they chatted, her initial nerves faded, replaced by laughter and curiosity.

Mr. Kim observed from a distance, his knowing smile and approving nod confirming that they shared something special. It seemed as though he’d orchestrated this encounter—hoping Y/N would open up in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Despite her reluctance, she enjoyed Felix’s presence, his genuine compliments slowly removing the last vestiges of her insecurities.

They talked effortlessly for hours amidst the noise of the bar, discussing everything from music to their favorite foods, and life in Korea versus England. Felix’s laid-back demeanor made her feel at ease; he didn’t push her to open up more than she wanted, respecting her boundaries yet leaving her curious about him.

“I’d love to see you perform again,” he said, his eyes sparkling with interest. “You have a real talent. Have you thought about singing professionally?”

Y/N hesitated at the question, the old familiar feelings creeping back in. “I used to dream about it,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But my dad… he has big plans for me, and I’m not sure I want that life.”

Felix nodded, understanding sparking in his expression. “Sometimes you have to find your own path, even if it means stepping out of someone else's shadow,” he replied thoughtfully. There was a depth to him that resonated with Y/N, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t anticipated.

Over the following months, Y/N and Felix found themselves gravitating toward each other. Karaoke outings became a cherished ritual, each visit intertwining their lives further with friendship—and perhaps, something deeper. They explored the unique flavors of Korea together, visiting quaint street markets adorned with colorful lanterns, indulging in spicy tteokbokki, and standing in awe of ancient temples hidden amidst modern architecture.

One brisk evening, as they meandered the charming streets after yet another night of singing, the chill in the air made Y/N tuck her chin into her scarf. Felix stopped to face her in the soft

glow of a nearby streetlamp, creating a cozy halo around them both. His eyes sparkled with a mix of hesitation and intensity, as if he were weighing unspoken words on his tongue. “Y/N,” he began, taking a step closer, “there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you.”

Her heart raced, caught between excitement and nervousness. This was the moment she had been anticipating and dreading all at once. “What is it?” she asked, her voice steady yet soft.

He hesitated for just a moment, searching her eyes as if trying to find the right words. “Since the first time I heard you sing, I’ve been captivated by your passion and spirit. You shine in a way that's rare, and I believe you should be sharing that with the world… not just in karaoke bars, but everywhere. You'll look back one day and wonder why you let fear hold you back.”

Y/N felt a swell of emotion rising within her; she had never thought of herself in that light since moving to Korea. Felix’s encouragement cracked through the shell of insecurity she wore like armor. “Thank you, really,” she replied, her honesty reflected in her gaze. “But it’s complicated. I’ve let go of that dream for so long. My father has this vision for me, and I’m… well, I’m scared.”

Felix reached out, gently drawing her closer, his warmth and comfort enveloping her. “You have to follow your heart, no matter what. That is the only path worth taking. If it’s something you love, you’ll find your way,” he urged softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

In that moment, the air thickened with unsaid sentiments. Y/N felt her heart hammering against her chest, as if it were trying to break free from all the restraints she had built around it. “It’s just… it feels so safe to hide behind my father’s plans,” she confessed, vulnerability spilling from her lips.

Felix moved even closer, his breath warm against her face. “And the greatest adventures often start outside of our comfort zones,” he encouraged, his voice a gentle caress. She caught a glimpse of sincerity in his eyes, kind and reassuring.

With the world around them fading into obscurity, Felix leaned in and kissed her deeply. His lips were soft yet insistent, their warmth igniting something within her. It wasn’t just his kiss—it was everything he represented: freedom, potential, and passion. Y/N melted into him, feeling the burden of doubt lift from her shoulders. This was the beginning of a beautiful discovery, not just with Felix, but also within herself.

As they pulled apart, breathless and slightly dazed, the reality of the moment washed over Y/N. Their gazes locked, and she could see the promise of something more than just friendship in the depths of his eyes. “I’ve never felt this way before,” she murmured, staring into his warm brown eyes.

“Well, there’s a lot of life left to live, and I’d love to help you explore it,” he replied with an encouraging grin, his fingers intertwining with hers. “Let’s take on this city together.”

Days turned into weeks, and with each rendezvous that followed, Y/N began to rediscover her love for music. Felix encouraged her to practice singing, teasingly daring her to unleash her voice, and she found herself gaining more confidence with every note she sang. They would gather in his cozy apartment, filled with laughter and the sound of shared playlists that melded their tastes into one harmonious blend. She felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t realized she craved.

With Felix by her side, she also searched for avenues to express her talent. After many discussions, she finally decided to take a leap of faith. Encouraged by Felix and Mr. Kim, Y/N decided to audition for a local music competition that showcased rising talents. Although fear crept back in, threatening her resolve, she found the strength to push past it.

The day of the audition, she stood backstage, her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the other contestants. It was a colorful mix of hopeful artists, each waiting for their moment in the spotlight. As Y/N approached the stage, memories of her father’s expectations and the fear of failure flickered through her mind, but she remembered Felix's words: “Follow your heart.”

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the flood of stage lights, the audience blurring before her as she thought of all the nights spent practicing, of all the support she received from Felix, and of the way the music made her feel alive. She selected a powerful ballad, something that spoke to the journey she had taken. As she began to sing, her voice soared, rich and confident, wrapping around each note like a warm embrace.

The audience was captured by her performance, the energy palpable as they swayed and cheered with encouragement. Midway through, she

caught a glimpse of Felix in the crowd, his smile radiant and filled with pride. Seeing him standing there, his features illuminated by the stage lights, was the final push she needed. She embraced the moment, letting go of her fears completely. This was her chance to reclaim her love for music, to break free from the shadows, and to truly embrace her own identity.

As she finished the song, the applause erupted like a storm, a tidal wave of affirmation washing over her. Breathless and overwhelmed, she stepped off the stage, emotions swirling inside her. She had done it—she had faced her fears and emerged victorious. The thrill of being embraced by the crowd filled her with a sense of belonging that she had longed for since arriving in Korea.

Felix rushed over, his eyes sparkling with excitement and admiration. “You were incredible! I knew you had it in you!” he exclaimed, pulling her into a celebratory hug that felt warm and grounding. She buried her face in his shoulder, a mix of relief and happiness surging through her.

Days passed, and the competition results were announced. To her astonishment, Y/N made it to the final round and, more importantly, was embraced by the community she had once felt so isolated from. The newfound confidence had seeped into every aspect of her life, altering her dynamic with her father and pushing her to have difficult conversations about her dreams and passions.

When she finally spoke to her father about her aspirations, he listened with a mix of surprise and pride, realizing how deeply music resided within her. It took time, but he began to understand that this was not just about him; it was about Y/N finding her own voice and path. They began to reconcile, forging a new understanding and a bond built on genuine support.

As for Y/N and Felix, their relationship flourished, blossoming into a love defined by mutual respect and encouragement. Karaoke nights turned into songwriting sessions, adventures, and shared dreams. Every stage she graced became a reminder of her journey—a testament to her resilience.

One crisp evening, back where it all began in the same bustling bar where she had first stepped into the spotlight, Felix took her hand and pulled her close, whispering, “This is just the beginning for us, Y/N. Let’s make a lifetime of music and memories together.”

With a smile that lit up her face, Y/N knew he was right. She wasn't just singing for herself anymore; she was singing for all the dreams that had once seemed so far away, as well as the incredible love story that had blossomed amidst the chaos of a new city.

And with each note she sang, she felt more like herself, finally harmonizing with the world around her—no longer just a girl from the Cotswolds but a woman determined to write her own narrative, as vibrant and beautiful as the city she now called home.

The End.

#lee felix yongbok #stray kids #kpop #skz #lee felix #felix lee #straykids #felix smut #felix stray kids #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix stray kids #kpop fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids felix #stray kids x reader #skz imagines

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random-fandom1984 · 5 days ago

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I read that requests are open (please forgive me if they’re not), but I’d like some Draal or Angor x reader fluff, if that’s okay.

Angor Rot Headcannons

One thing that's been on my mind is that, if Angor is deciding how he wants to show his appreciation to his human lover is make two golems -- that are made out of roses -- hold a banner that says a sweet message in the Troll dialect like "I love you", "You're doing great!", "Do you want me to kill Jeff from Accounting?". You have no idea what they say, unless you're with the Trollhunters. Sweet. Unreadable, but sweet.

Because he is a Troll that has been in slumber for a very long time, only awakening in our time, he would be very confused with technology, he refers phones as "pocket magic". His first interaction with one was the common scenario of having his picture taken when poking around it. He almost destroyed it, thinking that it took part of his already stolen soul.

Tries to teach you how to wield a dagger. Keyword: tries. You tripped over your feet; multiple times mind you. He's just glad you didn't get cut by your blade, or worse. At least they weren't coated in Creeper's Sun.

#scarydogprivileges You literally have a -- troll -- assassin by your side, bound by the power of love. If you were a member of the Trollhunters' group, they now have a new advantage as long if your life is in danger. Which, considering what the Gumm-Gumms are up to, then that is not often unless it actually involves going toe-to-toe with either Gunmar himself or one of his minions (Changelings or mind-controlled soldiers).

If he were to be turned into a human, the first thing you would want him to try is human foods- as long it isn't Barbara's. Apologies, Mrs. Lake, but your cooking isn't good as from what the audience has seen. Although it tastes nice, I don't he would be okay with knowing that there are dangerous chemicals in everyday human foods that you eat.

#toa #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #trollhunters x reader #angor rot x reader #trollhunters tales of arcadia #troll x reader #dreamworks

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hunterthecharmer · 10 months ago

Text

Unexpected - Part 4

Summary: You work for an events company and end up being assigned as a talent handler for a 2 week long convention. Your co-worker ends up assigned to Glen Powell, but you catch his eye. Can you remain professional and keep him from knowing you're actually a pretty big fan of his?

Authors note: we are finally off to the races with the Glen content. It’s only uphill from here 💙 inserting these pics because they’re my inspo for his look. Let me know your thoughts!!

You awaken to the sound of your phone buzzing loudly on your wooden nightstand. You groan as you reach toward the glowing screen, eyes burning as you flip it over to see who’s blowing you up. It’s 5am, and Savannah’s contact photo fills your screen. You hit the answer button, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. “Hello?” you croak, voice hoarse.

“Oh, thank goodness you answered! I've been trying to get a hold of you for the last forty-five minutes. I still feel like crap, is there any way you can take over Glen’s schedule today? I already texted our lead about it, and Dylan doesn’t have any overlaps so you’re good there.”

You blink slowly as you try to process her words. “Sure, Sav. I’m sorry you’re sick.” You finally reply. “When do I need to pick him up?” Savannah coughs on the other end of the line. “His first event is at 8! Thank you so much, I owe you big. I’m gonna go back to sleep.” She hangs up, and you fall back into the mattress.

---

“I’m gonna need 3 coffees this morning, thanks.” You hurriedly grab the drink carrier back to your golf cart before speeding over to Dylan’s cabin. “Morning Mr. O’Brien!” You grin at him, pointing excitedly to the coffee cups. “Heck yeah! Let’s do this.” He takes the cup from your hands and slides next to you. “Dylan, I have to cover for Savannah today with Glen so it might get a little hectic, but don’t worry. I promise you’re my priority, and you won’t be late to anything!” You smile at him as you drive toward his trailer, putting your sunglasses on with your free hand. Dylan sips his coffee, “No problem.”

Once he’s dropped off, you head to pick up Glen. You pull in front of his cabin and beep the horn a few times to let him know you’re ready. He emerges moments later in jeans and a blue argyle sweater, hair perfectly styled. His leather watch catches the sun as he bounces down the stairs, face lighting up when he spots the coffee in the cup holder. “You’re my hero!” You giggle before reversing the cart. “Bad nights sleep, Mr. Powell?”

“Just a lot on my mind.” He answers quickly, only glancing over to you out of the corner of his eye as he drinks his coffee. He then waves a hand in front of you both, continuing. “Woah woah woah, Savannah does NOT call me that. Does Dylan ask to be addressed that way? Cuz’ I will give him so much shit for that later.” You burst into laughter together, covering your mouth in embarrassment. “Look, we are technically supposed to address all talent this way. Unless they specify otherwise that is.” You smile to yourself as you drive.

“Well I am definitely specifying. You’re like, what, only a few years younger than me right? I’m just Glen. K?” You nod. “Understood.” You let silence fill the air as you continue to drive towards his trailer, a couple light giggles escaping from both of you.

“Also, I know you’ve heard already but I will be covering Savannah today, so anything you need, just text or call me. Okay?” you look at him and he shoots you a thumbs up, downing the rest of his coffee before you arrive at the trailer.

“Have a good class!” You encourage, and Glen spins around to wink at you while clicking his pen, journal tucked under his arm. You wait until he gets through the door before you drive away to check on your friend.

….

“Long story short, I’m feeling much better.” Savannah sighs as she cuddles further into her blanket, the tv lightly playing in the background of her room. “I’m glad to hear it. You think you’ll be back in business tomorrow? It’s getting a little difficult with Glen. Not in a bad way, it’s just that he is being really sweet and I…I’m trying really hard to be professional. But you know how I feel about him!” You exclaim in a hushed tone, flopping backward onto the comforter. Savannah nods knowingly. “Just keep being yourself, you can’t help how he acts or feels toward you. You just can’t forget that you have a job to do.” You listen to her, twisting your hair around your finger as your stomach drops. You spend a little more time with her before heading back to pick up the boys and continue to drop them off for their events the rest of the day. Fortunately for you, they both had events close in proximity to each other so you didn’t have to drive either of them far, which left less time for you and Glen to talk. By the time the day was over, you happily slipped off your shoes and took a shower longer than normal to release some of your nerves. Glen was a celebrity, and naturally charming. No way would he ever actually flirt with you, right? You’re a nobody. Just a normal girl who happens to be working an event he booked to help him further his career. His very real, very serious Hollywood career.

You allow the warm water to cascade down your back for a while before stepping out of the shower to slide into bed, flipping on the TV to watch a movie and enjoy your pizza the craft service sent you to your cabin with.

As the hours pass, a storm forms outside and you welcome the thunder with the occasional flashes of lightning making the room glow. It eventually lulls you to sleep until you’re ripped from your dream to the sound of your work phone buzzing from across the room. You instantly snap up in bed at the different ring tone, your brain telling you this is important. You lunge toward the phone and look at the caller ID - it’s Glen’s assistant. Confused, you answer the call.

“Hello, this is..” A female’s voice instantly begins speaking as soon as they have confirmation someone is on the other end of the phone. You listen closely, rubbing your eyes as you realize it’s 3 in the morning. You learn that Glen’s mom has been trying to get ahold of him all night but he hasn’t heard her calls; she and his dad were out riding their electric bikes that evening when his dad accidentally wrecked it, hurting his back pretty badly. They had been out and about downtown so his mom didn’t want Glen to hear it from a news outlet before he could hear it from them and know his dad was going to be fine. You feel your heartbeat quicken as you assure her that you’d let Glen know as soon as possible so he could give his family a call, since they were all still at the hospital with his dad. You hang up with her and start slipping on your tennis shoes and rain jacket, grimacing at your air dried hair in the mirror and deciding to throw on your hat to hide it. The rain was still coming down heavily outside, so you’d need to be quick. You rush out the door and onto your golf cart, instantly missing having a car here on the property. You make it to Glen’s cabin in no time, struggling to see through all the rain. The claps of thunder startle you as you put the cart in park and run to the front door. You knock loudly on the door, calling Glen’s name as you do. “Glen, Glen! Wake up! Please!” You bang on the door about 6 more times before the door finally swings open, a very tired and confused Glen standing before you in his sweatpants. “What’s going on?” His voice is raspy as he steps aside for you to come in, drenched from the storm. You stand near the front door and pull your phone out of your jacket pocket. “I’m sorry to wake you, but your assistant called me. Your dad’s in the hospital for a back injury. He and-” Glen cuts you off, eyes widening. “Oh my gosh, is he ok? When did this happen?” He paces over to his phone on the nightstand, raking a hand through his hair as he sees all his missed call notifications. “He’s okay, I promise! He had an accident on the electric bike with your mom downtown. She wanted to tell you before you heard it elsewhere.” You finally get out all the details, watching as he nods along while dialing his mom. They speak for a few moments before hanging up. You tried not to eavesdrop but you could hear most of what was said. They didn’t want him to fly all the way back to Texas, there was nothing he could do there that he couldn’t do here. They would discharge his dad in a day or so, it wasn’t like it was life threatening. Glen sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes wandering over to yours. “Thank you for driving over here to tell me, I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.” He shoots you a sleepy smile, the pain he is trying to hide all over his face. It hurts you to see him so upset, so worried.

“Of course, I’m just glad I heard my phone and that everyone’s okay.” You yawn, awkwardly shifting your weight as you adjust your hat on your head, irritated at how drenched you were. You were shivering in his doorway, texting his assistant to let her know you had told Glen and all was well.

“Hold on, is that a Longhorns hat?” He asks in disbelief, slipping a t- shirt over his head before suddenly standing to walk over to you. In one quick motion, you cover the logo with one hand and pull your hood over your head, body turning toward the doorknob. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, it is. Small world, right? Anyways, I’ll let you get back to sleep.” You stumble over your words, knowing full well that he could never know the real reason as to why you own the hat on top of your head. Never.

“You were already awesome, but this just tipped you over the edge.” He smirks playfully at you, his warm hands reaching for your cap and carefully lifting it off of you. He inspects the inside, giving a nod of approval before putting it back on you. “Yep, that’s official alright.”

Grinning at each other, you twist the doorknob and step backward, the cold rush of the rain and winds blowing the hood off your head. “What’re you doing?” Glen shouts, quickly slamming the door shut and tugging your wrist towards him, and back towards his warm room. “It’s nasty out there, no way I’m letting you drive back yet. You can hang here until it clears up.” Glen throws the blanket draped over the couch in front of the fireplace over to you, and you catch it with a huff. “No, Glen..do you understand that I will lose my job if anyone sees me leaving here at this hour? It’s extremely unprofessional.” You shake your head while draping the blanket over your shoulders, thankful for its warmth. Glen leans against the tufted sofa, crossing his arms as he purses his lips. “You came here to give me a message about my family. I don’t care who I have to explain that to. Now come over here and let’s get you warmed up.” His tone is quiet now, dripping with exhaustion and care. He was not going to take no for an answer.

Hanging your head in defeat, you kick off your shoes and jacket before heading over to join him by the fireplace. He flips a switch on the electric fireplace, the heat quickly warming your bones. You watch the flames dance along the screen, unusually grateful that it wasn’t a real fireplace at this moment because of the time it might take to get it going. Glen sighs as if he is having the same thought before taking a seat on the couch. He drapes an arm over the backside of it, as if to invite you to sit next to him. You opt for the floor, planting yourself on the soft shag rug. He clicks his tongue with a low hum before sliding down to join you, nudging your shoulder.

“I don’t bite, you know.” He began, before gently removing your hat from your head, your hands reaching up to smooth out your frizzy hair immediately. Glen slowly stops you, his own hands covering yours to pull them down. You stare at each other for a moment, as you wait for him to say something else. When he doesn’t, you speak up to fill the quiet space. “Thanks for letting me wait out the storm. I hope it clears up befo-“

Glen cuts you off.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

His blunt confession rattles you, suddenly feeling like a deer in headlights. Had you been that obvious?

Your mouth goes dry, mind swirling with what to say to him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” You lie, your expression one of stone while your tone betrays you. You so desperately wished that you could be more coy at this moment.

His sage eyes sparkle at you, his body shifting so that he’s fully facing you now, hugging his knees to his chest as he watches you go still.

“It’s 4am, you’re off the clock and I’m calling your bluff.” his lips curl into another smirk. Your eyes search his face, the glow of the flames making him look even better than normal. You make a mental note of his disheveled hair, not able to stop yourself from running your fingers through it. He exhales deeply, enjoying your touch. You search his face for any sign that he wants you to stop, but instead his eyes begin to close, head leaning forward into your touch. A few long, quiet moments pass, the storm outside and crackle of the fireplace filling the room.

“You didn’t deny it.” He finally whispers, his voice so relaxed you almost can’t hear him.

You slowly halt scratching his head, your hands moving to either side of his face to gently trace his features. He smiles softly at you, and it makes your heart leap.

His hands rest on your ankles as you face him, legs criss crossed. The contact makes your breath quicken, thankful they aren’t any higher.

“Alright, fine. Yes, I may or may not….” you pause, carefully choosing your words, “find you attractive.”

His eyes widen, hands suddenly raising to grip your upper arms before swiftly pushing you backwards to pin you onto the floor. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite catch that. I’m gonna need you to speak a little louder for me.” His tone is low, and extremely flirty. You giggle beneath him, his boyish expressions making you dizzy. You’ve already admitted the words to him, no use in trying to be bashful now.

“I find you attractive, okay?!” You admit, covering your face with your hands to hide your burning cheeks.

“Oh no no no, uh uh. Don’t go acting all shy on me now. Look at me.” He laughs with you, prying your hands away. He lowers his nose to graze yours, a warm hand pushing your hair back from your forehead.

You bring your eyes up to meet his gaze, the warmth of his breath and smell of his cologne enveloping you.

“Hi.” You whisper softly, the last few days of interacting with him feeling like a strange lead up to a moment like this. It felt like something out of a movie. Your mind was screaming at you to get up off the floor and drive back to your cabin for the sake of your job and being professional, while your body was paralyzed in place.

“Hi.” He softly exhales back to you, brushing noses with you again before kissing your cheek. His soft lips, the warmth of the fireplace and the wind blowing outside made you sink into the floor beneath him. How many times had you dreamt of a moment like this? And then for it to happen with your celebrity crush?

Lifting his head to get a better look at you, his eyes search your face for a reaction. You can feel your cheeks getting tight at how hard you’re smiling, heart beating out of your chest. You feel your lips part, eyes dropping back to his lips. Feeling brave and overtaken by your attraction to him you lace your hands behind his neck to pull him back down to you, lips crashing together. The kiss is soft but firm, your fingers drifting to find his hair before he deepens the kiss. A strong arm loops under your back, pressing his body closer to yours. You hum against his lips, tasting his minty mouthwash as his tongue intertwines with yours.

His other hand reaches up to hold the side of your face, his thumb gently circling your cheek, right near the edge of your lips.

Finally breaking apart for air, Glen lifts you from the soft rug and brings you to your feet, placing your arms over his shoulders to be back around his neck as his arms snake around your waist to pull you into him, his lips finding yours again. He guides you backwards towards his bed, your knees bending at the side of the bed frame to sit on the edge mattress while you both continue to kiss each other’s faces off. When his hands start to glide underneath your oversized sleep shirt, you pull back from him, eyebrows raised. “We should stop.” You pant, voice quiet. He pouts at you, fingertips running up and down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to gauge if the rain had let up. It sounded like it had, to your dismay. You were also trying to soak in this moment because chances were it wasn’t ever going to happen again. When you open your eyes, his are now closed as he continues to trace circles on your back. You run a hand through his hair to put it semi back to normal, gently tapping the side of his face to wake him up. “Hey, you should get some sleep. I think it’s slowing down out there so I’m gonna head back.”

His eyes shoot open, and you feel a tinge of guilt as you note the redness in them now. Yours probably matched. You place both palms on his chest to wiggle your body away from him off the bed, making a beeline for your shoes and jacket near the door. It was taking every last bit of willpower not to turn around to tackle him back onto the bed, your body already missing his touch. He follows you to the door, handing your hat back to you with a smirk. “Thanks again.”

Your brows knit together in confusion as you take the hat from him, pulling your hood over your head and feeling around in your pocket for the cart key. “For..?” Your voice trails off. Glen laughs, “For the update on my dad. And for the kisses.” He winks at you, and your cheeks flush. Unsure of what to say, you step closer to him, his body leaning down to you in response. Getting on your tiptoes, you quickly cover his face in kisses, the child-like giggle that escapes his lips making your heart swell. You purposely leave his lips out of it, kissing his cheeks one last time before backing away from him. He frowns suddenly, shaking his head.

“Why’re you running away?” His tone is still playful, making it harder for you to leave. You felt like you were having an out of body experience, shocked at your bravery to kiss his face like you’d daydreamed of doing while watching his films, running your hands through his sandy blonde hair and pressing your bodies together. You needed to let him sleep, and you needed to rest too.

“I’m not, we just need to be able to function tomorrow. Goodnight, Glen.” You smile sweetly at him, shimmying your long coat sleeve off to expose your left hand to give him a tiny goodbye wave. He groans, throwing his head back before holding the door for you, watching as you drive away.

#glen powell #tyler owens #glen powell fic #tyler owens x reader #glen powell fanfic #glen powell x reader

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