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#IT HAD TO BE THE WIND 'CAUSE NOBODY WASN'T THERE
Closed Position Update
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Happy Tuesday my lovelies! I thought I would drop a quick update on the next chapter of Closed Position.
The update is that this chapter is long as fuck. I'm talking like, 27K words. I don't know what happened, the second half of it sort of got away from me. So, given that, I think what I will do is post it in two parts. Part 1 will be Kat's POV and Part 2 will be Dieter's. I plan to post Part 1 either tomorrow or Thursday. Part 2 will follow next week after I have proofed it. It will take me a bit on that one because it is the longer of the two.
I wasn't kidding when I said A LOT happens during week 3. So prepare yourselves. It's going to get a little angsty and you may want to cause me bodily harm at the end of part 2...👀
I promise, I will make it up to you in week 5.😏
Please accept this cute little snippet while you wait for my long winded self to finish the final touches.
“You’re too stiff. You need to relax some and let those loose hips do their thing.” I had to mentally berate myself because my mind went spiraling after those words left my mouth.  Dieter chuckled, “This is ridiculous. Here I was thinking I was gonna be like Johnny and have all the moves, but instead I feel like Baby carrying the fucking watermelons.”   I snorted, “I’ll withhold my crude watermelon joke because it'd be inappropriate…” It was Dieter’s turn to snort, “I can’t believe you just went there.”  I shrugged, still laughing, “Look, nobody puts Baby in the corner…right? I’m not gonna let anyone put Bravo in the corner either. We’re gonna get this. Just relax some. I don’t understand why you're so tense today. I know you move better than this.”  He grimaced, "I know...I think I'm just getting in my head about it. I'm not focused on the right things..." I arched a brow at him, "What are you focused on then?"
Anybody want to take a guess why Dieter is so tense? What could possibly be on his mind?😂
More coming soon!
💜Mysty
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
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Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
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You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
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Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
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lustfulslxt · 2 months
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Teach Me - Chris Sturniolo
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summary : after being stranded on a date because of your innocence, you want a taste of something more; you beg chris to teach you.
warnings : smut, innocent!reader, slutty bff!chris, oral, fingering, yk the usual
Everything was going well, until it wasn't. The first date you'd ever been asked on, and you were ecstatic. Someone had finally taken an interest in you. You got all dolled up and put on your nicest dress. You had your hair sitting pretty, and your makeup on point. You never imagined going all out for a guy, and it was all just for you to be left standing there in the parking lot.
"You look hot tonight." The guy across from you smirked, his leg brushing up against yours beneath the table.
You sent him a bashful smile while pulling your leg out of reach. "Thank you."
His smirk fell as he felt you pull away from him, his face hardening just the slightest bit, before relaxing it as best he could. "What do you say we get out of here?"
You frown, "What? Now? I haven't even finished eating."
He chuckles, "You've had plenty, come on."
He gets up from the table and reaches for your hand, and as much as what he had just said rubbed you the wrong way and made you feel unpleasant, you obliged and grabbed his hand anyway. He tugged you towards the exit, eagerly making his way to his car with you following in suite. You struggled a bit to keep up with his quick pace, having to step twice as many times as him just to not fall behind.
As soon as you reach his car, he presses you against it and slams his mouth on yours. You immediately push him back, staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows. He grins and pulls you back into him, forcing his tongue down your throat.
With another shove, you shout, "What is the matter with you?"
"Oh, come on! Give me a little taste." He chuckles, grabbing your arm.
"Are you serious? Yeah, I think I'll pass." You glare up at him, appalled by his thirst.
"For real?" He questions, until he realizes you're serious and instantly grows sour. "Then you can fucking stay here. Nobody wants a prude."
Before you can even fully register his words, he's in his car and speeding off, leaving you to stumble back in disbelief. You watch him dramatically drive away until his taillights fade into the distance. A frown pulls to your lips and tears well up in your eyes. Without another thought, you're pulling your phone out and calling the one person that never fails to be there for you when you need him.
"Hello?" He answers.
"Chris." You start, holding back your tears. "Can you come get me?"
He can hear it in your voice that you're beyond upset, and he's instantly sliding on his shoes. "Send me your location."
With that, you're sending him the address of the restaurant you're at. You sit on the curb, crossing your arms to provide you as much warmth as possible as the night wind starts to pick up. You put your head down, willing yourself not to cry over some loser that just wanted to get in your pants.
Soon enough, headlights shine in your peripheral, causing you to look up, only to be met with Chris walking towards you. You quickly stand and meet his embrace, his body encasing you in a much-needed warmth. His arms securely wrap around you, holding you snug against him.
"What happened?" He asks in a soft tone.
You pull away with a sigh of annoyance, "Guys suck."
He chuckles a bit before wrapping his arm around you and guiding you towards the passenger seat of his car. He opens the door, letting you take your seat. With a quick glance at you, he's shutting the door and making his way to his side. He gets in, and immediately heads for the road.
"Your house or mine?" He questions, shooting you a quick look before directing his eyes back to the street.
"Yours if that's okay." You reply.
He grins, grabbing your hand in his. "Always."
The rest of the ride is silent, and it's not long before he's pulling into his driveway. He parks in the garage and shuts the car off, the two of you getting out and heading inside.
Chris brings you directly to his bedroom, locking you two in there. You head for his bed while he goes to his dresser. He grabs out a t-shirt and goes into his bathroom, fishing for the makeup wipes he has for you for times like this. After retrieving them, he walks back over to you and holds his hands out.
“You’re spending the night. Go wash your face and get out of that dress.” He simply states.
“Wow, Chris. Keep acting like that and girls might actually think you care.” I tease, grabbing the shirt and wipes from his hands.
He rolls his eyes with a small grin on his lips, “I do care, but only for you. Any other girl that thinks that is lying to herself. Now, shut up and go do what you gotta do.”
You giggle, closing yourself in his bathroom to do as he says. Upon looking at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but feel a little sad. Not because of some guy, but because you put so much effort into yourself for a guy, just for him to be the type you’ve been avoiding your whole life.
Taking a deep breath, you shake your head to rid your mind of your thoughts. Grabbing a wipe, you begin removing the makeup and wash your face off in the sink. Next, you kick your shoes off and remove the dress, replacing it with Chris’ shirt. His scent and laundry detergent linger in the fabric, pleasantly engulfing your senses. You grab your shoes and dress, then look at yourself, forcing a smile on your lips, and head back out to the bedroom.
“There’s my girl.” Chris says upon seeing you.
He’s sat on his bed, leaning against his headboard with his legs kicked out. He nods his head, silently beckoning you over. Your forced smile turns into a real one as you toss your belongings in the corner and make your way over to him.
“Hi.” You breathe, crawling next to him.
“Hi, pretty girl.” He mumbles, pulling you to lay on him.
Your arms hug his abdomen as you place your face on his lap, both of your legs intertwining with one another. This type of thing isn’t new to you, you and Chris have always been close in your friendship. Though, it’s never went further than cuddles.
“Thank you for coming to get me.” You whisper into his shirt.
His hands run through your hair, “You don’t have to thank me. I told you I always got you whenever you need me.”
You look up at him and smile, squeezing him just a bit harder. You lay your head back down and close your eyes.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”
You sigh and shuffle around to where your back is on the bed, but your head is in his lap. You catch his eyes as he stares down at you and all you can feel is safe.
“Do guys not like inexperienced girls?” You ask him.
He furrows his brows as confusion plasters across his face. “What do you mean?”
“Say, you’re out with a girl. Does her not wanting to do anything with you or having never done anything before turn you off?”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t really matter to me.”
You ponder for a moment, biting your bottom lip as he intently watches you. He places his hand on your jaw and softly presses his thumb to your chin, pulling down so you release your lip.
“What about me?” You finally ask in a quiet voice.
He hums, “What about you?”
“You know I’ve never done anything before. I’ve never even kissed a guy until tonight. Does that turn you off?”
“You kissed him?” He gapes at you.
You frown just a bit, “Well, more so he kissed me. I had to keep pushing him away.”
“He was trying to force you?”
You can see Chris becoming infuriated, so you place a hand on his cheek in an attempt to calm him. “Hey, he just kept trying to kiss me. When he realized I wasn’t giving in, he left.”
Chris doesn’t say anything as he looks off into the distance.
“You never answered my question.”
He glances at you with a look you can’t really decipher. “You could never turn me off.”
A foreign feeling flutters in your stomach and your cheeks grow pink beneath his warm hands. You can’t help but look away as your blush deepens and Chris chuckles.
“You’re blushing.” He obviously points out.
You push one of his hands away from you and roll your eyes. “Shut up.”
It’s silent again and your thoughts end up roaming all over the place; Chris being the main focus for the majority of them.
“Does that mean I turn you on?” You hesitantly ask him.
He raises an eyebrow, “Where’s all this coming from?”
“I don’t know. He called me a prude.” You admit.
“Just because you didn’t want him doesn’t mean you’re a prude.” Chris responds as he caresses your face.
“He’s not wrong though.” You shyly say, “I’m twenty years old and I’ve never done anything like that ever.”
Chris shakes his head, “That doesn’t matter. You’ll do shit when you’re ready. Kid’s just mad you wouldn’t suck his dick.”
“Would you get mad?” You ask, curiously.
He laughs, loudly, “No. If I wanted it that bad, I’d call up someone else to come suck me off.”
“That was a very whore-ish thing to say.” You giggle, before adding with finger quotations, “I’ve never ‘sucked someone off’.”
“That’s because you’re a prude.” He teases.
You groan, pushing yourself off of him. He quickly grabs your waist and pulls you back to him so you can’t run off. Only now, you’re suddenly straddling his lap. He gulps at this new position the two of you have never been in, immediately shaking the dirty thoughts away.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I was just teasing.” He grins.
“Will you teach me?” You randomly ask, doe eyes wide as you stare at him.
He chokes on his saliva, completely thrown off by your question, “W-what?”
“Will you teach me how to suck dick?” You reiterate, adding, “As friends.”
“As friends?” He repeats with a slight chuckle. “I don’t know how to suck dick either.”
You groan once more, pushing his shoulder back. “Come on, be serious. You know in a sense of what you like.”
“I’m not teaching you how to suck my dick.” He forces out in a breath.
“Why not?” You pout.
His heart is practically beating of his chest at your sudden desire to give him head. He so badly wants to remove his pants and slide his cock down your wet throat. He wants to see your pretty lips puckered around him. He wants to feel you gag on him as you try to take all of him in your mouth. He wants to see tears running down your cheeks as you work him.
He quickly shakes his head, almost unable to catch his breath. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Please? It won’t mean anything, and you basically get free head.” You add, trying to sway him.
“Free head is crazy.” He chuckles, attempting to avoid your question.
You readjust yourself in his lap, causing him to squeeze your hips with wide eyes. You halt your movement, unaware of what’s going on with him.
“M-maybe you should get up.” He says, deeply inhaling through his nose.
You’re confused, but nonetheless, you lift your hips from him and kick your leg over, attempting to scoot yourself to beside him. Only, he grabs your waist, stopping you once again.
Chris is having an internal battle right now. Your words awoke something feral in him, and he’s fighting with himself to not give in. He wants nothing more than to comply with your request, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to control himself. Yet, he still wants you on him.
You find yourself now straddling his thigh this time, the heat between your legs resting on his clothed leg. He can feel your warmth, causing him to lean his head back in contemplation.
“Think of it as a favor.” You say with a shrug, “You teach me, and in return, get your dick sucked.”
“Y/N.” He breathes as his mind flashes with erotic fantasies.
“Hey, I’m not forcing you. If you’re not interested-“ You get up for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.
“Wait.” He speaks through gritted teeth.
You kneel next to him, waiting for him to continue. He looks at you with half lidded eyes, and you can practically see his inner turmoil. He places his hand on his jeans, pushing it around with his bottom lip between his teeth.
You glance down and are suddenly aware of his growing erection. Your stomach twists at the thought of being the reason he’s getting hard, and it makes you feel somewhat good about yourself.
His hand grabs the bottom of his shirt, sliding it upwards to just above his belly button, revealing his happy trail. His eyes lock onto yours as his hand cups your cheek, guiding you down towards the bulge in his pants.
“I’m not sure we should start something we can’t stop.” He breathes as he feels the warmth emitting from your face through his jeans.
“Who says we can’t stop?” You ask in a whisper as you place your hands on his belt.
He’s so sensitive right now, he can feel your breath as you speak. Unable to help himself, he bucks his hips up into your hands, eyes closing from the sensation.
His hands guide yours to undo his belt. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”
"It'll be okay." You say, your voice barely audible.
Your veins flood with anxiety as you unbuckle his belt. You're excited, but nervous. What if you don't do it right? What if he laughs at you? You grasp the belt and slowly pull it from his belt loops, Chris lifting his hips to help you. His eyes haven't left you once, soaking in the way you innocently aim to please him.
You unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper, so slow almost as if you're purposely trying to tease him. You grab the waistband of his jeans, his pulling them down as he lifted up just a bit. You can see his dick straining against his boxers. You can't help but widen your eyes at the size of him.
He smirks at your reaction, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your cheek. His fingertips softly grip the back of your head, pulling you down to his throbbing member. Your lips meet his boxers, feeling waves of warmth through it. Chris takes a deep breath as your plump lips drag over the fabric.
"So, I just take these off. Yeah?" You innocently ask.
Chris chuckles at your cluelessness and nods, assisting you in removing the last piece of clothing on his lower half. His dick springs up, fully erect and throbbing. Your mouth visibly falls open at the sight. You can see veins dancing along his shaft, his head an angry red.
"What I do now?" You shyly question.
His hand wraps around the base, pumping a few times. "Spit on the tip."
You blush under his intense gaze, gathering as much saliva as you could. You lean over him, puckering your lips and pushing it all out with your tongue. It slowly falls onto the tip, causing his dick to twitch. He closes his eyes at the warm sensation, but quickly opens them to watch you again. You watch as the spit dribbles down his length, working around the veins.
"Then, you use your hand to spread it all around and get it nice and wet." He huskily informs.
You look at his face and he nods, encouragingly. Your hand slowly meets his member, and he groans from your delicate touch. Your fingers wrap around his girth, beginning to pump your hand up and down to spread your saliva. Chris' hand clenches the sheet beneath him, his breathing becoming shaky.
"Chris." You whisper, causing his eyes to snap open.
"What?" He breathes.
"What now?" You can't help but giggle.
"Right." He licks his lips. "Uh, just lick the tip."
You hesitantly lean forward, blatantly unaware of what you're doing. However, you do as he says. Your tongue flicks over the tip, slowly circling around it, pulling a low groan from his throat.
"I'm sorry, was that, okay?" You ask, worriedly.
"F-fuck, yes." He mumbles, his eyes drinking in the way you work his tip. "Then, you put it in your mouth. Bob your head up and down as you suck and use your hand-like this." His hand engulfs yours around his member, showing you what to do with the remaining cock you can't fit in your mouth. "Shit, good girl." He praises with a heaving chest.
Your tongue slides over his tip once more, causing his hips to buck, shoving his dick in your face. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement, and you look up at him.
"Sorry." He chuckles, running his thumb over your lips.
You can't help but smile at his smile, then proceed to take him into your mouth. You flatten your tongue and slide down his shaft. Your lips wrap around him so perfectly, eliciting another moan from him, which only encourages you. His hands tangle in your hair as you bob your head, your mouth drooling down his member.
"Fuck, just like that." He groans, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
You place one of your hands on his thigh, the other pumping the remaining of his length that you can't fit. Your tongue glides along the vein on the underside of his dick, traveling back upwards and around his tip. Chris tosses his head back, his jaw clenching as waves of pleasure flood through his body.
"It's so hot that mine is the first cock you've ever had in your pretty little mouth." He moans, caressing the sides of your face.
His hands grip the sides of your head, and he thrusts upwards, shoving his dick down your throat. You gag around him with every thrust, snapping him from the trance he's in. He quickly pulls his hands from your head and places them on the sheet, squeezing it once again.
"Sorry, feels so good." He grunts, willing himself not to overwhelm you.
You pull away from his dick, strings of saliva keeping you connected. You grab his hands and place them on your head, "Do it again."
You can tell it's what he likes, and his moans of pleasure make you feel good, you want to hear them over and over. You can feel a burning desire for him growing in your stomach, a feeling so foreign and unusual. It makes you squeeze your thighs together.
Chris' eyes damn near roll to the back of his head from your words. His hands softly grip your head and his hips thrust up, continuously fucking into your mouth. Wet gags fill the room, and his eyes take in the sight in front of him. Your eyes glisten with tears as they stream down your face, spit bubbles gathering on the sides of your mouth.
He can't help the moans that fall from his mouth as his orgasm builds. His stomach tightens, his muscles flexing as his toes curl. He throws his head back, his mouth falling slack, silent groans leaving it. His thrusts slow as a guttural moan emits from his throat, his hot load shooting into your mouth and down your throat.
His movements stop, so you wrap your lips firmly around him once again. You suck around him, your tongue gathering the remnants of his orgasm. His legs twitch from overstimulation before he's pushing your head off of him with a hiss.
"Sorry!" You rush out with wide eyes.
He faces the ceiling with closed eyes as his chest heaves with heavy pants. His cheeks are flushed a rosy color, his bottom lip swollen from biting down on it. He peeks at you with half lidded eyes, staring at you with such an intense gaze. His fingertips trace the outline of your jaw as filthy thoughts flood his brain.
His hand grips your chin and pulls you up so that you're straddling him again, leaving your faces centimeters apart. His eyes roam all over your face, taking in your expression, attempting to read you.
Your lips are red and plump with dribbles of saliva in the corners and your hair is a mess from his grabby hands. Just the sight of you makes his cock start throbbing again. He wants to do so many naughty things.
"How was that?" You ask in a whisper.
His gaze lands on your lips, subconsciously licking his own as he admires you. His thumb brushes over the soft skin once again, pulling it down and softly pressing into your mouth. The pad of his fingertip rests on your warm tongue, and you can feel him growing underneath your weight.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You question, forgetting that he hasn't answered your previous question.
"I told you it wasn't a good idea." He mumbles, his eyes never leaving your face as his hand meets your hip, squeezing it.
You suck in a breath at the feeling, involuntarily clenching. "Why not? You finished, didn't you?"
"Mm, because now I can't stop thinking about filling you up." He huskily whispers.
Your eyes widen at his words, looking down towards your meeting groins. His free hand runs up from your knee, digging his fingertips into your bare thigh. His hand on your hip moves around your back, sliding up the shirt of his that you're wearing. You can feel his nails run over your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
"Fill me up?" You repeat in an innocent tone.
He practically groans from your voice, his hands meeting your hips, holding you in place as he ruts up into you. The action pulls a soft moan from your lips as it felt pleasant against your needy core. The feeling was unusual, but you want to feel it again. The sound that left your mouth goes straight through him, his cock twitching with desperation.
"Fuck." He mumbles, barely audible. "God, I can't do this."
"I can get up." You mutter, suddenly feeling a bit insecure, unaware of the dilemma he's going through.
"No." He grits, his hands tightening on your hips. "That's the problem."
You frown, "I-I don't understand, Chris."
"God, even the way you say my name." He practically whines, his eyebrows furrowing as he squeezes his eyes shut.
He shuffles beneath you, exposing his hard member. He grasps your hand and places it on his dick, both of your hands engulfing his length.
"See what you do to me?" He groans at the feeling of your soft hand around him. "I knew crossing that line wasn't a good idea, because now it's all I can think about. I wanna be buried inside of you. I wanna feel you squeeze around me. Wanna hear your pretty little moans, all for me. God, I wanna make you feel so fucking good it's all you know."
Your mouth falls slack as he speaks, a feeling swirling in your stomach as you take in his words. You feel tempted, your attraction and desire for him burning brighter, turned on from the thought even though you've never had what he's implying.
"Do it." You whisper, your eyes set on his face.
"W-what?" He gapes, his eyes frantically searching over you.
"I've never had sex before." You say, "Teach me. Make me feel good."
He shakes his head, letting out a breath. "I don't think I can control myself; I don't want to hurt you."
You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."
You lean closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. You can feel his breath against your face from the close proximity. You hesitantly brush you lips against his, looking for any signs to discontinue. However, Chris wraps his hand around your neck and yanks you into him, slamming his lips on yours.
You can't help but moan into the kiss, driving Chris insane. His lips work against yours so feverishly, hungry for you. He places his opposite hand on the small of your back, supporting you as he flips the two of you over.
You gasp from the sudden movement, Chris taking the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He explores your mouth, his tongue gliding over yours so perfectly. He pulls away, leaving you breathless, and turns your head so that he can work on your neck. The second he starts leaving open mouthed kisses, your breathing becomes erratic as small whines leave your mouth, only fueling his hunger.
He licks and nips at your sensitive skin, eliciting quiet moans and pants. His hands slide under your shirt, caressing your body with the right amount of pressure. You've never been in this situation before, but you love it, especially since it's with Chris. Your skin burns beneath his touch, you can feel yourself growing wet beneath him.
"You're sure you want to do this?" He questions, barely breaking away from your neck.
You only nod in response, your breath caught in your throat as he continues to suck.
He pulls away, his hand turning your face to him. "I need your words, baby."
"Yes, Chris." You whine, squeezing your thighs together. "Please."
He gives you a tiny smirk and pulls you up so he can remove your top. He swiftly pulls your shirt over your head, the cool air causing you to shiver. His hands run up your sides, admiring your body. He reaches behind you, his fingers finding the back of your bra, and quickly unbuckles it. Grabbing the straps, he guides them down your arms, leaving you topless.
You quickly cover up, suddenly feeling a bit insecure, having never been exposed like this in front of someone.
He grabs your arms, pulling them down as he interlocks your hands. "No need to hide from me, pretty girl. Just wanna make you feel good."
Chris pulls you back into him, one of his hands placed on your lower back while the other one holds your cheek. He presses his lips to yours, in a softer kiss than before. Pulling away, he swiftly removes his shirt, adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor.
As you stare at his physique, he grabs your wrists and places your hands on his bare chest. You take the hint and run them over his smooth skin, feeling his body heat beneath your palms. Chris grins at you, engulfing your breasts in his hands, tenderly squeezing them. A small whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling.
Chris leans you back, taking his place hovering over you. His hand brushes your hair out of your face as he stares down at you with dark eyes. His fingertips caress your cheek as he takes in your features.
"So fucking pretty." He mumbles against your lips, before kissing you.
The kiss is gentle and almost loving, your lips moving softly together. That only lasts for a moment before he's deepening it. It becomes messy and feverish, both of you needy and desperate for more. He pulls away, a string of saliva attached to both of your mouths. Then, he makes his way back down your neck.
He litters your sensitive skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. His tongue flicks over every inch, his teeth softly biting down, leaving dark bruises in his wake. You can't help but whine beneath him, relishing in this new feeling he's bringing you.
It's not long before he lowers himself again. His mouth nips at your chest, peppering you with wet kisses. His teeth graze the soft skin of your breasts, working his way towards your nipples. His hands engulf the mounds of fat, squeezing and massaging them. He wraps his lips around one nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, causing you to arch your back into him. His hand tweaks the other one, stimulating them both, before taking turns with each.
"That feels good." You whine, your hands tangling in his hair.
"Mm." He hums, "Just you wait, baby. Gonna make you feel so good."
With that, he's traveling down your stomach, leaving kisses along the way. Your skin is on fire, and you find it hard to breathe. He's getting closer and closer to your most sensitive bits, and you're becoming slightly nervous, having never experienced this. His mouth meets the waistband of your panties, leaving kisses across the elastic.
He pauses, glancing up at you. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes." You breathe, "Yes, please."
He shoots you a grin, his head lowering towards your thighs. He spreads your legs, and his mouth meets the plush skin, sensually kissing and marking both legs. Your head is clouded with lust, not a single thought in your mind, except for Chris.
As he moves up towards your center, you feel yourself repeatedly clenching. His lips meet the fabric of your panties, placing a soft kiss over your clothed clit, causing you to buck your hips into him. He smirks to himself, bringing his fingers up and rubbing you through the cotton.
You gasp from the feeling, quietly whispering, "Oh, my god."
He lifts his head, watching you as he works you through your panties, the fabric quickly becoming drenched with your arousal. He practically moans at the entire sight of you. Without a word, his fingers are dipping into your underwear, swiftly pulling them down and off your feet, leaving you naked beneath him.
Just as you're about to close your legs, feeling exposed, Chris wraps his hands around each thigh, spreading them even farther apart. The sight of your dripping pussy has his mouth watering. As he crawls in between your legs, your sweet aroma floods his nostrils, causing him to groan in satisfaction.
"Such a pretty pussy. All for me." He huskily speaks.
Your body is tense with anticipation of what's to come. Chris places an open-mouthed kiss over your throbbing clit, pulling a whimper from your throat. You stare down at him, his eye connecting with yours as he drags his tongue through your folds, from your entrance to your clit. You can't help the high-pitched moan that falls from your mouth.
The feeling is like no other, and you find yourself grinding down into his mouth. His tongue laps your wetness, indulging in the sweet taste of your essence. He puckers his lips, wrapping them around your aching clit, softly sucking on it, flicking his tongue back and forth over it. You're left twitching beneath him, egging him to keep going.
"God, you taste so fucking delicious." He mumbles against you, the vibrations coursing through your body.
The foreign feeling starts building in your stomach, and you can only assume your orgasm is close. Your hands lace through his locks, gripping them as you moan. Chris' mouth is drenched in your juices, the warm wetness dripping down his chin as he devours you.
You begin writhing beneath him, causing him to hold you still with a harsh grip on your thighs. He's completely lost in the taste of you, possibly enjoying himself more than you are.
Your face contorts in pleasure, your hole clenching around nothing as he continues working you so deliciously. The knot in your stomach tightens, your fingers tugging his hair.
"Chris, oh my god." You cry out, bucking into his face once more.
He shakes his face in your pussy, his tongue flat as it glides over your clit. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on his hair, crying out as you give into the feeling. The band in your stomach snaps, your juices rushing out into his mouth. Lewd moans emit from your mouth, Chris soaking every one of them up. Your body convulses under him, his grip on you tightening so he can finish you off.
He laps up your wetness, savoring every drop of it. Reluctantly, he pulls away, not wanting to stop, but not wanting to overwhelm you. He peaks up at you through his waves, the bottom half of his face glistening with your fluids. His lips are red as he licks them, attempting to taste even more of you.
"Can I keep going?" He questions, his fingers dancing on the skin around your heat. "I want to try something else."
You hum, slightly giggling, "Let me catch my breath for a moment."
He brings his cheek to your inner thigh, letting you rest for a moment. Though, it's not long before he's inching closer to your core. He teasingly rubs his nose against your swollen clit, causing you to twitch again. You hiss from the feeling, making him chuckle in delight. He admires you, deeply inhaling your scent, eager to make you cum again.
Without another word, his fingers are sliding through your folds, eliciting cries from you. You're so sensitive, but you don't want him to stop. He crawls over you, keeping his hand prodding at your pussy.
He has a goofy grin on his face as he takes in your expressions. Your face is flushed and sweaty, your hair matted from the constant wriggling of your head. You look incredibly fucked out, and knowing he hasn't even done much to you, makes him hot.
With his slender fingers still sliding up and down your slit, his lips meet yours. The taste of you lingers in his mouth as your mouths mold together. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, the taste of your essence more prominent. As his tongue explores your mouth, he takes the opportunity to slip a finger into your sopping entrance.
Your back arches into him, and he swallows every moan that leaves your mouth. He slowly pumps it in and out of you, the sound of your wetness very evident. The slick sounds fill the air as you both moan into each other's mouths.
He breaks away, leaving you breathless. "Look at you. You're loving it."
You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to hold back your sounds as your frantically nod your head. His pace quickens, his finger rapidly pumping in and out of you. Your brows knit together in pleasure, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.
"Just wanna make you feel good, baby." He coos, "You look so pretty like this for me."
Your mouth opens, silent moans leaving it. As if he can't help it, his opposite hand slides up your neck, his middle and ring finger poking into your mouth, pulling your jaw further down. His eyes never leave your face as he slides another finger into your pussy. Broken moans fall from your mouth as he works you so well.
He soaks in every hint of enjoyment you release, loving that he can make you feel so good. Loving that he's the only one that's ever made you feel this good. His cock throbs at the sight of you, yearning to be buried inside of you. His movements increase in speed and force, becoming rough for just a second, before he's removing his hand altogether.
You're left breathless and whiny at the loss of contact, your mind stuck in a daze. You've never felt this way before, but god, do you hope it never ends.
"I wanna feel you." He groans against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.
The thought of what he's suggesting makes your stomach twist. You're nervous, but you want it so bad.
"Fuck, I just want to feel your sweet little pussy squeezing the life out of me." He grunts, rutting his hips into yours.
His cock glides over your slit from the gesture, causing you to roll your hips for more friction. He lowly moans at the feeling of your warmth against his member. He pulls you further down the bed by your thighs, situating himself between your legs.
He leans over you, his palms placed by your head to hold himself up. His lips meet the side of your jaw, littering soft, wet kisses all over your skin. He does the same to your neck, before moving back up to your lips, placing several there as well.
"Tell me if you want me to stop." He whispers against your lips.
He looks at you, discerning no signs of hesitation or reluctance. One of his hands intertwine with yours as he backs onto his knees. His opposite hand grasps his member, sliding it up and down your folds, coating itself with your arousal.
Every time his tip runs over your clit, you can't help but moan at the sensation. He aligns himself with your entrance and looks up at you again. You both lock eyes, and you give him a firm nod for the reassurance he needs.
You grip his hand with one hand and the sheets with the other, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly pushes in. He fills you inch by inch, the size of him making you feel like you're being torn. You wince from the pressure, involuntarily clenching around him. The feeling makes him groan in pleasure, but he stops.
"Are you okay?" He grunts, rubbing your hip with his free hand.
You nod, "Mhm."
"Just breathe, and if you need me to stop, I will." He gently speaks, attempting to soothe you.
"Fuck, okay, just keep going." You whine, your eyes still closed.
He gives you a nod, very slowly pushing all the way in. He bites his lip, suppressing the sounds threatening to spill. He stills, letting you adjust to the new feeling.
"You good, baby?"
You open your eyes, letting out a breath. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good, you can move now."
He starts slowly pumping in and out of you, his grip on your hip tightening in hopes of controlling himself. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to power through the pain. It's more so uncomfortable than anything.
He rocks his hips into yours in a sensual manner, pulling a low moan from you as it becomes more and more pleasurable. His eyes widen at the noise, enthralled with the way you sound just for him.
"God, you're so fucking pretty." He groans, "Sound so pretty too."
More soft moans emit from your mouth at his words, taking pleasure in the way he's so gentle with you. He leans forward, capturing your lips in his. Your mouths mold together so effortlessly, like you've been doing this forever.
His thrusts quicken only slightly, still fucking into you at a gentle pace. Your head lolls to the side, soft whines falling from your lips as pleasure consumes you. The familiar feeling builds in your stomach for the second time tonight, causing you to clench around him.
"Doing so good for me." He moans, thrusting just a bit harder.
A lewd moan is pulled from your throat at the switch in his strokes. He leans back slightly, his thumb coming in contact with your clit. He begins rubbing slow, soft circles into it, causing you to tremble beneath him.
"Chris, oh my f-fuck." You cry out, your back arching.
"Feels good, no?" He smirks, soaking in the way you're reacting to him.
His pace quickens after that, causing you to let out a loud moan, "S-so good."
Your sounds are going straight to his cock, and he can't help but thrust deeper. Your hands clench around the sheet below you, your knuckles turning white once again from the tight grip.
He lifts one of your thighs, holding your leg up for better access. The tip of his delicious cock kisses your cervix, you're left writhing in overwhelming pleasure. He tosses his head back at the feeling of your spongey walls clenching around him, pulling his orgasm closer and closer.
His thumb speeds up on your clit, applying more pressure. You're practically thrashing beneath him. Your stomach tightens and you can't help but clench around him again and again. The feeling of your velvety walls contracting around him, pulls a guttural moan from his throat.
"Oh my god." You cry.
You whine out as you can't hold on anymore, giving into the knot and letting go. Pleasure takes over your body, flooding your veins with euphoria. Squelching sounds fill the room as you release all over his cock, coating his member and balls in your juices.
He looks down, groaning at the sight of your deliciousness drenching him. His hips sputter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his climax. Before he even has the chance to pull out, his load is filling you up and painting your walls a milky white.
"F-fuck." He groans, stilling his movement after riding out his high.
He looks back down at your groins, eyes widening as he realizes what he did. Slowly, he pulls out of you and watches as his cum oozes out of your pussy. The sight alone could make him cum again in an instant.
"Uh, are you on birth control?" He finally spits out.
You open your eyes, immediately raising an eyebrow at him.
He brings a hand down to your center, scooping some of your mixed fluids with two fingers. He pulls it up to show you, before slightly smirking.
"Wanna taste?"
Your eyes widen and your face is taken over with that innocent look that he loves so much. Your mouth parts as you nod, and he's instantly shoving his two fingers into your mouth. You moan at the taste, sucking every drop from his finger.
His mouth waters at the sight, immediately gripping your jaw and kissing you fiercely. He sighs into your mouth, beyond pleased with the way your night turned out.
"Whenever you need me, call me immediately." He grins in a teasing manner.
You can't help but giggle, shoving him away from you. His laugh matches yours, collapsing next to you and pulling you into him. He lovingly pecks your shoulder, his arms completely engulfing you.
"Ten minutes and we're gonna go clean up."
--
a/n : as lil wayne said, sorry 4 the wait. ugh god the way i need this is actually so bad for me. anywhooo, hope you little sluts enjoyed this as much as me!! lmk your opinions, and send in more requests!! xx alssooooo, credit to @flowerxbunnie for the slutty bff chris request!!!
taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @keira324 @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita
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voidpetrova · 3 months
Note
reader & rafe at midsummers/cameron family event and getting in trouble for basically fucking right there bc rafe doesn’t care who sees😩😩😩
put on a show — rafe cameron x reader
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☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, softish!bf!rafe, explicit unprotected sex, tit play, spanking, vouyerism, public sex, dirty talk — smut
˚♡ 。˚ synopsis: they'd give it all up to spend a second in rafe's shoes, with you on their arm, but some wishes do more harm than good
✧.*
oh, to have it all. to have everything you've ever wanted and so much more. to throw money at any problem in your way, to rely on everyone but yourself in order to have what you want. big villas, expensive champagne, fresh seafood, fast cars, pretty women, and parents who never gave a shit about their kids. that was the life you had dreamed of, and the one you were currently living.
on the ocean course of kiawah island, you seemed like nothing but a dazzling accessory on rafe's arm—pure eye candy, all eyes on you, none of the attention on him. everybody was looking at you. midsummer events were made to live in the moment, to rid yourself of stress in order to feel the wind in your hair and the cool summer breeze on your aching tan lines. unfortunately, they were also made to show off by, not saying, but showing—my cars are faster than yours, my mansion is cleaner, my pockets are heavier, and with you standing with someone like rafe? it was only fair to assume you were just a trophy he could show off.
that wasn't the case. nobody had to know it, it was nobody's business but yours amd rafe's. you were well aware of the reputation your boyfriend had gained, the infamous status he had earned through the consequences of his own actions. you had been aware of it from the moment you met him, but you did something for rafe that no one else had done for him. something that had unintentionally broken down his stone cold walls of confinement he had spent his life building, revealing a treasured part of him that no one got to see, but you. you gave him a chance.
you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to sit through his anger issues, his fits of rage. you'd be lying if you said you haven't ended up in tears, sobbing on the cold floor after an argument, after he had gone off the rails once more, but you never gave up on him. he would leave you in an attempt to seek solace on his own, to calm down. each time he was on his way back, he had expected you to be long gone, but you never were. you would always be there, waiting for him with opens arms.
it softened his heart, knowing that someone was willing to put up with his issues. he couldn't put up with his issues, yet you found a way. you found a way past the misconceptions people had of him—past his jealousy, his need to control and manipulate, his fits of pure aggression that often led to threats and punches. you met him at his worst and stuck it out with him. he was still flawed, slightly more than your average kook, but nothing you couldn't handle.
the sun's radiant rays practically bounced off your skin, illuminating your eyes as you gazed up to look at your boyfriend. he was so fond of the sight of you, eyes soaking in admiration as a smile graced his lips. you were so magnetic to him, so stunning. it was a popular opinion amongst both kooks and pogues, but nobody would have you the way rafe did. “how are you feeling?” you murmured, voice gentle as you gestured toward john b's group yards away from the two of you. rafe was tense, you could feel it even as you held his hand, but he shook his head. “it's not worth it.”
he had all the time in the world to go after the pogues, all he wanted to do right then and there, was to spend some time with you. nothing more nor less to it. although, during every event, there always came a pivotal point where rafe's feelings would get the best of him. he would try his best to stay strong, to refrain from causing anybody harm, but sometimes? he had to do this his way, just to make his point. this was one of those times.
“hot for an ex-pogue, that's what i think,” one voice from behind commented. the unfamiliar face was accompanied by two more unfamiliar faces, who also chimed in. “nah, rafe can't handle allat. she's a knockout.” you were a knockout, that was a common fact. rafe was no longer looking at you; his eyes were glued primarily on the group of guys sitting in the background, his blood boiling as he listened to their shared snickers and comments. you desperately called for his attention.
“rafey, come on,” you held onto his hand, tugging at it ever so gently as you frowned, face drenched in worry. if you weren't able to stop him, who knows what would happen? he was capable of just about anything. “don't do anything to them, it isn't worth it.” for a split second, he glanced back at you, face softening the second he saw how worried you really were.
truth be told, in that moment, rafe felt as if he was the most intelligent kook to ever live. every thought about how long he could beat those guys without security coming, and how fun it would be to peel back their nails for every apology they uttered, went right out the window. you were right, they weren't worth it. not in front of everyone, at least. you were worth it. you were the grand prize men spent drooling over the minute you showed up—the same one women spent sneering at. ever since you had gotten together, it had been nothing but the same condescending comments. it pained him as much as it angered him, knowing everyone wanted what was his.
“you're right,” he replied dryly, and you swore his eyes darkened. it was his turn to hold your hand, pulling gently as he turned on his heel. “come with me, princess.”
more confused than worried, you did as you were told, following his tracks as he pushed past all the eager hands and widening eyes glued to you, his grip tightening with every step. he led you down the halls and helped you down the stairs. as the crowd's laughter died down, you neared a secluded room down the hall. you couldn't figure out what it was, for whom it was, but you didn't bother to question rafe as he forced the door open, ushering you inside.
despite the closed door, there was a wide and tall array of windows—more windows than walls themselves, actually. rafe noticed this, muttering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath before leaning against one of the windows. you frowned, walking towards him as you watched everyone outside, analyzing the tiny selections of unaware bystanders. “rafey, what's wrong?” you whispered, the back of your hand caressing his cheek. “can't stand it anymore, (y/n),” he shook his head. “can't stand the way they all leer at you.”
his jealousy had been an ongoing, consistent problem for him all throughout his life. as a kid, he was jealous of the other kids with better shoes. as a teenager, he was jealous of the ones with loving fathers. during his young adult years, all he's been jealous of was the way people stared with watchful eyes, praying that someday you could be theirs instead of his.
“no one else will ever have me,” you assured him, stroking his hair as he gazed up at you. “not the way you have me. not now, not ever. i can promise you that much.”
he loved knowing, despite it all, that you were his. you were his, despite the stares. despite the ongoing, blood-boiling comments. despite the praises and the compliments and the sheer amount of people submitting to you every day, just for an ounce of attention, you were still his. he couldn't make anyone accept it, but he could definitely make them wish they were dead.
“rafey,” you didn't have time to finish, not a second longer. he stood up, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered, as if a common reflex, as you kissed him back just as sweetly. the kiss deepened, your mouths melting together as you stepped back, looking for leverage before your back hit the wall. his hands slid up your waist, right up your back as he pushed your arms up against the wall, kiss never coming to a halt.
the air was hot as you moaned quietly against his mouth, put in your place and unable to fight against his grip. he held your arms down with one arm, using the free one to explore every crevice of your body. he traced every curve, hands calloused, cold and rough against the bare, warm skin under your dress. “so perfect for me,” he gasped out, inches away from your mouth as he savored the drool from your lips. he couldn't control himself, rough palm squeezing your barely-clothed tits, thumbing each nipple as he tsked. “almost like you want everyone to stare, yeah?”
you moaned at the sensation, at a complete loss of words. he brought his knee up, sticking it in between your legs. a gasp left your mouth at the feeling of his rough knee, decorated by his dress pants, against your lacy underwear. you couldn't help but rut your hips against his knee, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and mouth open as you chased a friction of any kind. your boyfriend retracted his knee, a smirk playing on his lips as a whine of protest left his lips. “rafey, no—”
“why don't you answer my question first, yeah?” you frowned, eyes glossy as you stared at him. “don't want anyone else to watch, rafey. just you.”
he seemed pleased with your answer, hitching your dress up, the sight of your soaked lacy pink panties causing the strain in his pants to tighten. “i'm so glad to hear that, baby,” he cooed. before you could even smile, you were flipped toward the windows, hands pressed against the glass. “unfortunately, that won't be the case tonight.”
you couldn't even struggle with the position you were in, eyes widening as you realized what he was planning. “you aren't serious, are you?” all you earned at first was a dry laugh in return, but the sound of his pants dropping was enough for you. you caught the sight of him in the mirror, his collared shirt hanging just above his hips, v-line toned and his cock erect in his grey boxers. you swallowed at the sight, failing to catch his smirk. “there a problem, sweetheart?”
his rough hands traced your bare ass, fingers desperately pulling down your panties as he groaned quietly, watching you spread out and bent over for him. a string of slick connected your bare cunt and panties as he slid them down your thighs, and that was enough for him. he slid his own boxers down, sighing as the cool air hit his flushed, painfully hard dick. he brought his palm down against the flesh of your ass, a yelp leaving your mouth as the sting spread across your skin. he couldn't help but laugh.
“careful with those noises, princess,” he nodded toward the window. the one with a picture-perfect view of the inside catastrophe that was unfolding. all it took was for one person to turn around, and a nightmare would come true. “or, don't. let them see and hear how good i fuck you.”
that should have been your warning, because you had absolutely no time to react. not with him pushing into you, his tip squeezing between your tight, wet walls. you gasped, the foreign size intruding sending you into pre-oblivion. “shit, fuck, rafe, 's too big,” you barely croaked out. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy sucking him in raw ready to send him over the edge. he watched the people outside, waiting for someone to finally turn around and get a load of the sight he had especially prepared for them. he wanted them to see past their delusions, realize who you belonged to.
“pussy suckin' me in too good,” he grunted, hands gripping the sweet flesh of your ass as he slowly began to drill your sopping cunt. you moaned at the sudden change, taking in every vein and every inch that fucked into your cervix. “drippin' all over my cock, baby.” his words made you whine, back arching as he watched your cunt engulf his cock whole.
he stared at you wherever he got the chance. his eyes watched the way your back curved for him, the way your ass rippled with every thrust that came your way, the way he'd just look straight and watch your tits jump with every second he spent plowing your cunt. he watched the way your mouth hung open, a string of moans passing your glossy lips. “never gonna get fucked this good,” he growled, and it was a promise. he grabbed a fist full of your hair, twisting and pulling your head back as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your ear. you moaned at the way your scalp tingled, the way he went even deeper, the sound of your pussy squelching accompanying your moans. “let'm know who fucks you this good, princess.”
he didn't have to tell you twice. it was all too overwhelming, anyway. the way he bit your earlobe while pounding your sweet, abused pussy, hitting your sweet spot while his free hand toyed with your tits, twisting and flicking the nipples beforw dropping to your clit, giving generous rubs to your slick, sweet bundle of nerves. “rafe, please, i'm gonna cum,” you moaned, and all he could do was continue, rubbing faster and harder as he continued to pound into you, balls tightening as your cunt gave his dick a sweet, hard squeeze.
he grunted, and looked up and through the window. he watched carefully, eyes scanning the lawn before stopping once the gaze had been returned. he stopped, a devious smirk playing on his face the minute he realized who was staring. the guy from earlier, the one who was so eager to get any kind of reaction from you. he stood there, alongside one of his friends, jaw hanging and eyes wide in pure shock. he gestured with his eyes toward your face, making sure he watched the way your face scrunched up in pure pleasure as he continued to fuck your pussy open. he made sure all of it was seen.
“right behind you, princess.”
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
Text
You and Eddie are enemies, you can't stand each other, but when you spot him with Chrissy in the woods you're forced to confront your feelings for him and the fact you'll have to hide it from him.
He hates you, he'd only make your life miserable if he found out.
Everybody lives, nobody dies Au, angst to fluff, jealousy and idiots very much in love. 18+ mdni.
❤️
You can hear Eddie before you see him as you walk into the cafeteria with your cheer mates. As usual, he's making a spectacle of himself at the Hellfire table, standing on it and calling out the marching band, basketball players and the party crowd.
Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you attempt to walk past the table but Eddie seeks you out, a smirk on his face as he focuses his attention fully on you.
"There's my favourite cheerleader" his winks at you and you stand your ground, ready for whatever shit he's about to say.
His purpose was annoying you, or at least thats what it felt like. It was always you that got his ire, who grabbed his attention every time. Honestly it was the same for you when Eddie was around.
It was like both of you were moths to a flame, something simmered between the two of you that you couldn't place or at least if you could, you didn't want to examine the cause too closely.
"There's my favourite dumbass" you fire back and he clutches his heart like you've wounded him. Ever since you and Eddie laid eyes on each other it was like you were magnets to the other.
Whenever your paths crossed there was tension in the air, banter exchanged that left both of you bothered and wanting more... Whatever it was between the two of you could wait for another day, you had cheer practice, prom committee and a bake sale to organise.
You did not have time for Eddie Munson today.
Not that he cares about your plans. He jumps off the table and lands right in front of you. Ugh. "Munson, I haven't got time for your dramatics today, go bother someone else"
He pouts and it's frustrating that he looks almost endearing while doing it. "How can I cope if I haven't been told to go kiss my own ass and the many other insults you've spouted at me just in the last week or so sweetheart?"
Here's the thing. You're certain Eddie enjoys arguing with you, gets some sort of pleasure from it. If you're being honest you enjoy it too.
"Oh bite me, you'll survive Munson" his eyes light up and then you hear a snigger from behind you, it's his sheeples or whatever he calls them, Dustin, Lucas and Mike watching the two of you fascinated.
"You say I'm oblivious, look at those two" Mike mutters and Eddie still overhears even though Mike has whispered it.
"What was that Wheeler?" Eddie narrows his eyes at him and Mike turns pink and looks suddenly very interested in his soda. You slip away from Eddie when he's distracted.
Both of you are rattled by what Mike said but you try not to show it as you walk away.
❤️
As the day winds to an end you're beyond relieved to just be going home, then you notice Chrissy walking into the woods instead of heading home herself.
Curious, you follow her into the woods, then freeze as you find out that she's meeting up with Eddie.
It's an awkward conversation at first but the tension melts away as Eddie and Chrissy are talking, he's goofing around to make her smile.
Throws himself backwards into a pile of leaves, asking if there is something in his hair, shy little smiles and hiding his face with hair as he talks to her.
There's a sinking feeling in your stomach, an aching in your heart that multiples when Chrissy giggles along with Eddie.
Seeing enough you stomp away, crashing blindly through the trees, there's wetness on your cheeks and you realise you've been crying. Crying over Eddie fucking Munson and the fact he was obviously smitten with Chrissy.
It wasn't a surprise, everyone was and to Eddie you were just an annoyance, someone who pissed him off and that was that. You always knew that but now the realisation was paticularly crushing.
You liked Eddie, like really liked him. Of all the guys you could fall for, why did it have to be the one who spent half his time thinking of new ways to irratate the hell out of you?
Couldn't you have realised this any sooner?
Shit if he even knew how you felt about him it would he horrid for you, he would never let you forget it and show you his disgust.
So it was settled. You would stay far far away from Eddie Munson, and his cute dimples and pretty brown eyes. They were nothing but trouble.
❤️
For the next few days you keep your distance from Eddie. It's hard though, because he seems to be wherever you are with that amused grin on his face.
You don't even entertain his stupid barbs, you ignore him for as long as you can, but he's growing more frustrated that you aren't your usual sarcastic self.
It gets to the point that you turn around during one encounter and glare at him, embarrassed as tears pool in your eyes. "Will you just leave me alone Munson" his eyes widen at your tears, you storm away before he can say anything else.
...
Eddie does leave you alone, you don't see him the next day which is a rarity.
It doesn't last for too long, you find him at his van talking to one of The Hellfire Members. He turns around and spots you, shooing his friend away.
"Will you talk to me" he sounds almost pleading and it throws you off balance. There's no way he missed talking to you is there?
"Why for you to rant and insult me, or make me feel even more shitty about myself,'" he reels back like you've slapped him.
"What? I don't... 'he trails off as you scoff and turn away from him.
"Yes you do. Not all time but sometimes you're just fucking mean. I guess because I'm and I quote "so bitchy and vapid''you think that it won't bother me" his face falls and he shakes his head.
"I shouldn't have said that. I was a mean douchebag" you look away from him stubbornly and shrug.
"Yeah well, I'm not sweet and perfect like Chrissy, everyone adores her" fuck you adored her, so no wonder Eddie liked her.
"What does Chrissy have to do about this?" He looks puzzled. His big brown eyes searching you for an explanation.
Flustered you explain what you saw. "You were all flirty and sweet with her the other day, when I saw you in the woods together, not that I care" you wince realising that you've gave away that you do care very much.
This was stupid. You were jealous of your friend and you shouldn't be. Having enough you decide to walk away but Eddie follows you.
"Chrissy wanted some weed for her and Jason, that's all, I'm not interested in Chrissy princess and she's definitely not interested in me". You're stunned by this, you never expected Chrissy to ever try weed and this stops you in your tracks.
"Seriously?" you gape and he gestures for you to sit in his van, opens the door for you as he does so.
"Why were you avoiding me sweetheart?" he asks you his tone very gentle. You feel your whole body flush with mortification as he stares at you, waiting for an answer.
"Please don't make me say it Eddie, you'll only turn around and be a complete ass about it"
Or be sweet like he is now and turn you down kindly, looking at you with pity. There's a brief pause and then his fingers interlace through yours, the feel of his calloused fingers entwining with yours sends tingles down your spine.
"Tell me"
"I have feelings for you okay. l've fallen for you badly, seeing you with Chrissy made me realise that. So now you know and if you're going to be a dick about it then do it now" your lip wobbles but you refuse to cry again.
He softens and cradles your head in his hands. The gesture is so tender and kind.
"Sweetheart, you're all I think about. Every single day from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Only you" he kisses you tenderly and pulls you close to him, kisses you until you're both breathless and smiling goofily at each other.
"I'm so fucking into you sweetheart, one of the things I talked to Chrissy about, if you stuck around long enough to find out"
Now it makes sense why Chrissy asked you earlier if you had talked to Eddie, looked disappointed when you said no, gently urged you to.
"You know he talks about you a lot" Chrissy grinned at you, there's a knowing look in her eyes, yet you shrugged off what she said. Figured that he only talked about how you annoyed him.
Shit you were such an idiot to not see what she really meant. So wrapped up in the idea that it was Chrissy that Eddie was smitten with. Chrissy would never let anyone talk crap about you either, you should have known that.
Eddie rests his head against yours. Kisses it briefly then a cheesy smile forms on his face. "You're crazy about me huh sweetheart?" he teases and you roll your eyes at him.
"Doofus, you're just as crazy about me" he squeezes your hand, tugs you back in for another kiss that robs you if your next words. That's fine, you could argue about that later... much much later.
💞
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bellarkeselection · 5 months
Text
Walter to the Rescue
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Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias
After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.
Tag list - @cognacdelights
Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”
My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.
“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”
I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”
It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”
“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.
“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.
He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”
“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.
The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”
“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.
Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.
Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”
“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.
I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”
“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.
“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.
Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”
“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.
He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”
“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”
He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.
“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”
“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”
He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”
“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.
Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”
“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.
Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.
I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.
“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.
Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”
“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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cvntyworld · 16 days
Text
war of the worlds ( lucy maclean )
summary: in which a friendly yet naive to the wastelands vault dweller, offers some useful advice to a survivor that doesn't trust easy and thought vault dwellers were some myth that died out long ago. for once they decide to put their lack of trust on hold and give lucy maclean a single chance at accompanying them cross the wastelands, an offer of safe travel, because anyone who's anyone knows that vault dwellers don't survive for long up here and the small part of kindness left feels the need to help.
contains: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, character deaths, gore, cannibalism, reader kills a bird and eats it, slow burnish, strangers to friends to lovers, lucy has to stitch reader up with a metal bed spring, reader is beat up and lucy rescues them, kissing, mild language, dead dad mentions, also kinda long ngl, they also think that cooper howard is dead since he was an actor
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With a mouthful of blood you grinned, teeth clenched in seething anger as you crawled towards the discarded yet worn down backpack a few feet away. The golden grains of sand turned red with each movement, wavering rains of hot red blood pouring out of your side as you reached out with trembling fingers, barely getting them to curl in on the backpack, a weak grip as you dragged it over and winced with pain, trying to breathe through it.
A harsh kick to the fleshy wound in your side caused an agonising cry to leave you, leaving you stunned against the sand, gasping out breaths as the golden grains had begun to stick to your sweating face that was pressing into the ground weakly. "Where did you think you were going?" The mocking tone pierced your ears and there wasn't even a raised voice, everything was heightened, everything hurt, but he didn't care, he would kill you or leave you bleeding out and be off with your stuff, you'd regretted taking this shortcut, the townsfolk warned of the stories of those that took the shortcut route, but in your mind it meant that there was rarely anyone here, a lone path, there would be trouble but nothing that you couldn't handle.
"You know, no matter how much those townsfolks cry and babble their stories about the shortcut to hell, the select few always think they'll have a chance." The man states, a scoff of a laugh leaving him as he turned you onto your side and pressed his solid boot down with a look of boredom when you glared up at him. "There is always someone as stupid as you that passes through and thinks they'll be just fine." Your hands reached up, nails digging into his filthy hands that blocked the air from your lungs, "It's a shame you didn't stand down, fiends would've paid good money, maybe I'll just keep you for myself, I haven't eaten in days, always thought human meat was better than an animals."
This was it, one stupid mistake and you were going to end up murdered and turned into food, as if you were nothing at all. You're whole life ending because there'd been a part of you longing for rest, a simple shortcut, townsfolks warnings ignored, you would die and not a soul would know, there was nobody to know. You stop, giving in and closing your tired eyes, this was it, you're going to die here.
"Leave them alone!"
Your eyes opened warily, head tilting to the side to see a wave of blue blur your vision. A woman stood, a strange gun trained on your attacker who turned his attention to her and laughed wheezily, an unhinged look of humour within his features. "No fucking way! A vault dweller, we haven't had one of you pass through here in a while!" A rattle of a cough sounded from him, his attention being focused on the woman dressed in blue. The grip he had on your ratty coat was dropped and your head fell back into the sands causing a winded cough to leave you, an instead hand pressing into your side as you attempt to keep pressure on the already terrible wound.
"I'll bet you've got nice skin." The man guessed and his words made your own skin crawl as he took slow steps towards the vaultie who didn't stand down, keeping an easy hand on the trigger. "I'll eat like a king tonight, you vault dwellers are always easier to skin, I promise to kill you first, last time it wasn't the easiest job skinning a gal that's still alive." His knife drew and just as he lunged at the vault dweller, she pulled the trigger, and a needle is planted right in his chest and leaves him stumbling for the few seconds he had and then he was collapsing to the sand beside you, eyes shut and unmoving. You grit your teeth together, forcing back the pain as the vault dweller approaches you cautiously. "Are you alright?" Vaultie asks with concern and a breathy laugh passes through you at the question. "Now that is a question I think you already know the answer to, Vaultie."
The vault dweller immediately shakes her head at this, as if realising her question to be a stupid one, "Sorry, here, I have a stim pack, I can help you." The woman was quick, shrugging her pack off and rummaging through it with a nervous laugh, "I'm Lucy, by the way, nice to meet you!" She greeted cheerfully and you stared at her, your brow drawing together dumbfounded at someone who kept a smile on her face despite the circumstances. The sharp needle was a familiar sight, you were used to seeing the injury pauser around but it didn't hurt any lesson when a wave of discomfort washed over you when Lucy pierced the needle into your wounded side. "You should start to feel a little better, I would offer to stitch you up but I was in a bit of a rush when I left home." You made a noise of acknowledgement, "First time on the surface, huh?" The vault dweller nodded at this, almost proud.
"I got something in my bag that'll take care of this." You stated, gesturing to the backpack nearby and Lucy has quickly grabbed it, glancing from you to the bag, "Is it a needle and thread?" She asks and you shake your head, "Not exactly, give it here." She hands you the bag with a gentle hand, helping you sit up and smiles at you when you give her a nod as thanks. Turning the backpack up, you let your contents stumble out into the sand, Lucy's smile fading in confusion as you pick apart the items, a lot of it looked to be junk, old scraps, gun parts, a box of empty bullets, a faded photograph, a canister that she'd assumed held water. A twirled piece of metal is held up, gripped in your hand, it looked clean, the cleanest thing amongst your odd supplies. Pouring some contents out of the canister, you turn to the vault dweller and hold it out to her, and that's when she finally sees what it is, an old spring, something that didn't have much use in her home, usually found in beds or furniture, this looked to be similar to the ones she would see on the trampolines when attending her gymnastics club.
She had a feeling of what you were going to ask when it was being held out for her to take, "Is this safe, I mean, I did take some time to brush up on health and safety for my journey but I don't even know if this can be used for stitching up something like that." You blankly stare, and force it into her hand harshly, "Look it's a spring, I got it for five caps, all you have to do is twist it around until it closes my skin up, simple as that." Lucy looks unsure at your words so you sigh at her, "If you don't do this, I'm gonna die out here."
As if giving in to your words, Lucy sighs, glancing from the wound on your side to the spring in her hand, a nod of assurance to herself. "Okey Dokey."
You screamed until the pain made you pass out.
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You awoke to a crackling fire and a dull ache in your side. Eyes blinking away sleep as you sat up cautiously, tired eyes instantly flickered to the vault dweller, Lucy, holding her hands towards the flame to claim some warmth. The fiend was lying still, you assumed he was dead but it was obvious he wasn't considering he was tied to a rusted car nearby, twitching in his slumber. You would deal with him soon, your attention focusing back to Lucy who noticed you had finally awoken again. "How are you feeling? I was starting to get a little worried, thought you'd never wake up if I'm being honest..." She trailed off, watching as you'd lifted your soaked shirt, the white fabric stained red, you hummed at the sight of the spring, curled around tightly and keeping your flesh closed over for now. "Surprised, I was able to go through with that, I've never actually had to stitch anyone else up before other than myself, ruined a perfectly good wedding dress." She laughed quietly to herself and you tilted your head curiously, "Never would have thought I'd meet a Bridezilla, folks up here haven't given two shits about marriage, not for a long time." The vaultie looked confused, "Bridezilla?" You dismissed her when you realised she hadn't gotten the reference, "It's nothing, forget about it."
Pushing the fabric back down, you turned back to Lucy with an unsure stare, her kindness unsettled you a little, but you could tell it was genuine. "You shouldn't light a fire after dark, specially round these parts." You tell her, and she meets your gaze curiously, "Why, what's wrong with lighting a fire? We need some sort of light source." You stood up shakily, wincing at the pain in your side as you began picking at the guns from earlier, screwing on an unusual tool Lucy hadn't seen before, to you it was a silencer and you aimed it just behind her and fired, the sound of squelching flesh and a high shriek made Lucy flinch and turn, watching as you walked past her, your face curled when the slimey creature twitched beneath your hands, it's hard shell shattered as you carried it to the fire and dropped it in the flames, it's shrieks dying to a stop as Lucy stood up and took a step back. "What is that?" She questioned with a look of horror and you are quick to place your gun inside your inner coat pocket, a simple shrug as you gestured to it, "That's one of many things attracted to a fire at night, we're lucky that this is all that seems to be out here so far." Lucy adjusted her bag on her shoulders, "You mean more of those grossly large roaches could sneak up on us?" You shook your head, "There's far worse things than roaches out here." You told her and her gaze lowered to the fire as if she'd understood what you meant.
Soon after the crackling flames were stomped out.
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You had wanted to part ways with the vault dweller but it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. Even after you shot the man dead who had injured you, she stayed, even when you threatened her with death, she followed, you'd never actually kill her, she saved you after all. You hated it when you packed your bag in the morning and realised it, she thought that stitching you up gave her a travel buddy in the wastelands, someone who knew what to do when she didn't, someone to learn from.
And despite it all, you just couldn't say no, you'd rejected people for less, you didn't have travel companions, you'd never stayed in a place long enough to call it home or be considered anyone's friend. Lucy MacLean was different, in a way, you felt a sense of trust, not fully but enough to let her linger, just for a little while.
She was kind, a good soul, she looked like something out of the movies, the pretty smile, the doe eyes, clean hair, a wave of confidence. She wouldn't last out here alone and the part of you with a conscience would have felt bad so you let her travel with you, the deal being you'd part ways when you reached the next available town where you had not stolen from someone or conned another, anything to get by, you're surprised at your restraint in not just being an asshole and shooting the girl and stealing her shit, it's something you'd done in the past when desperate but a part of you didn't let you. She had saved you and that is what repeated each time a selfish thought occurred, she could have left you to rot but she didn't.
While the company was strange, you were aware of it an awful lot, Lucy had a lot of questions about the world, an awful lot of questions indeed. She asked about why you'd rather be alone than have company, she asked for a name and you gave it to her, she asked about the bombs, she'd asked about things as random as what your levels were when it came to radiation, asked why you had all of the junk you did in your bag, why you preferred travelling at night. She seemed to be quite the chatterbox and though you often preferred the silence, you answered her as best as you could, but you didn't have all the answers that she desired, especially the one that she wished you did.
She was looking for her father, you told her she was lucky that she still had one, she apologised for your loss, you'd dismissed it, your dad died a long time ago and you tried to avoid that topic, of course someone like Lucy opened up a part of you to vulnerability and you had let her, you were letting your guard down when you needed it to be held up high and safe.
There was something so safe about her and you didn't like it, maybe because safety was never something you'd ever thought of on your travels. Safe was new, safe was scary and you wanted to scrub it away, that feeling she gave you, but you couldn't do that if she's still here, you would part ways and it would leave you, you only hoped parting ways and leaving her alone wouldn't kill her, you knew vault dwellers didn't last. Good people always died in a world like this, you knew that better than anyone, if your father was alive he would be ashamed of the things you've done, who you've become. He died screaming at you to run, his bottles of liquid gold ran dry and you had blown his brains out while he cowered in a corner, trying to stay himself, muttering his name over and over until a bullet pierced his brain and mercy ended his life.
Safe got people killed, your dad felt safe when he had his medicine on hand, it stopped him losing himself until he eventually did. You saw it happen, the resistance to it, as guttural cries and growls mushed together, it scared you, it strengthened you, it hurt you, but it also made you the person you are now, alone and forgotten.
Lucy was talking to a bird, its wing bent oddly, she had a look in her eyes that she wanted to help it, she ran a hand down the dark feathers and this was your chance to push her further away, make her despise you, make her know a good person wasn't hiding within you. You stuck a sharp blade through its head, ending its life in front of her, she'd stared at you in horror with those big wide eyes and you merely looked away coldly, stripping away at its feathers and cutting it open with little care, you could see that she was upset, angry at you, she wanted to save the bird and you had ended it's life instead, turning it into food, she'd sat away from you when you lit a fire, twirling the carcass above the flame and letting it singe so you knew that not a part of it was raw.
Lucy didn't eat that night, choosing to go to bed hungry rather than have a scrap of what you had eaten, she was starting to understand it, you weren't a kind sole, you're just as bad, you hoped that was what she was thinking, hoped that when you drifted off that she'd leave, realise who she's travelling with isn't good, isn't safe, you hope that she leaves and lets you wake up alone.
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When you awoke, she was still there. She was sat staring at her surroundings and had greeted you with the words of good morning and then smiled, offering you a drink of her water, claiming you had to stay hydrated if you want your wound to heal nicely. You felt like asking why she'd stayed, but you didn't, you remained quiet and gulped a gallon of water down your throat and started your walk for the day and she followed you.
That was five days ago and still she stayed with you no matter what you did to try and get rid of her.
By now, you had made it to a town and shoved a few of your caps to some old man renting rooms, Lucy decided a room shared would be fewer caps and you agreed with that, she also insisted it would be safer if you shared and you agreed to that also, which resulted in you lying on an old, worn down bed, Lucy lying on the one next to yours, and for once she was quiet. You wanted to ask her if she was alright, reach out to her, but you didn't want Lucy to think you cared, so you stayed quiet too, at some point, you knew she'd open up anyway, she had basically told a whole life's story to you over the week, varying from her wedding day ending in disaster because she was almost murdered by her new husband to her dad being taken to this, maybe she told you because you listened and didn't offer any comfort or apologies, or maybe she wanted to gain a friend out of you.
"I don't think I'll find my dad." She muttered out quietly, a strain in her voice as if she was holding back tears, "I feel like the people that took him probably killed him." When a sniffle could be heard from her side of the room, you sat up carefully and parted your lips to speak, unsure of how to handle her delicate feelings. You thought back to your own father, how it felt when he had died, how you felt, it left this wave of emptiness in you, like a part of you was ripped away from you. You wondered if that's what she'd been feeling since he was stolen from her.
You began by clearing your throat, "If they wanted to kill your dad, surely they would've killed him when they were attacking your home." You suggested and Lucy blinked at this, her eyes looked tired for the first time you'd seen her and it made you feel disheartened. "I'm sorry, Lucy." That made her turn to face you, smiling slightly but it wasn't a smile you were used to, it was a sad one. "No, you aren't." She replied before turning over, her back facing you and you frowned, you had expected her to say something like it's not your fault or there's nothing to be sorry for and in that moment you knew Lucy MacLean could read you as if you were an open book, she knew that you only said it to make her feel better, to try and get her to snap out her saddened feelings and change the subject, to ask some stupid questions like she usually does or to count out the rations she had left. She was challenging you, she knew you had something else you wanted to say, something she needed to hear but knew you would never discuss, a frown crossed your brow and you swallowed down your own overwhelming feeling of tears and took a breath, an unsure gaze fixated on Lucy before you spoke up with a tremble in your voice.
"Your dad isn't dead, Lucy." You began, "If he was dead, I don't think you'd still be out here, you'd be back home in your vault grieving." Lucy turned to face you once more, interested in what you had to say, "If he was dead then I think you'd know it, that part of you would feel lost, like someone ripped a part of your soul out." The MacLean is slow to sit up, "How would you know what that felt like?" She asks softly and you could see she'd already guessed, she was just waiting for you to open up for once instead of her. "It happened to me, two years after I was born, my old man got stuck for three days in a bad radiation zone, by the time I turned six his nose had disinterested and his skin looked like it was falling off." Lucy frowned at this yet stayed quiet, letting you continue, "When I was eleven he ran out of meds, we lived in the middle of nowhere so we would never get him that shit in time and I think he knew that it was time for him to go, he couldn't afford it and he gave up, told me to blow his brains out if he went crazy." You stopped and Lucy sat forward slightly, "I shot him in the face." You met her gaze, "The sickest thing about it is the next day, Davey, the guy who was dealing his meds, he showed up with a full box and I took it off him cause he said it was on the house." You laughed at this, it was a cruel thing that occurred but it made you laugh bitterly, "I took meds that stopped ghouls going feral and shoved it down my dead daddy's throat as if that would do shit. All those little vials could've gone to the ones who needed it and I kept them for him because I thought they'd end up bringing his ass back from the dead."
Slowing your rattly laugh, you lock eyes with Lucy, "While ghouls may be able to survive a lot of shit, getting blasted in the face isn't exactly on that list, I learned that the hard way." Lucy frowned at your words and made her way over to you, her arms reached out, embracing you and you fell still, realising that what you were being given was a hug, a thing you hadn't received in a long time. At first, you kept still, arms hanging as she hugged you and then slowly, an arm raised and wrapped around her then your other arm, you didn't even notice you'd closed your eyes, finding an instant comfort within Lucy Maclean, safety.
It made you wonder if this is what having a friend felt like.
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You lasted in that rented room another week before caps ran low and you decided to leave, Lucy following after of course, she had acclaimed a drawn map from some lady on a stall, telling her of some places she might find Hank Maclean, her father. Not trusting someone with a rotten grin, you had taken the map from Lucy and scored out a few of the destinations, cannibals, raiders, thieves, all of the places were bad, you had stumbled across a few on your journey to nowhere.
Luckily, spending a week in that room gave you time to check over your wound, unscrewing the spring so that a proper sewing up could be done since Lucy had tracked down a needle and thread. She had told you of how she had been stabbed on her wedding day, her husband was a raider disguised as another vaultie and she'd ended up stapling her wound shut, something you felt squeamish at the thought of. Another thing that surprised you was how neatly she'd sewn you up, a perfect stitch and not a sign of infection. She was way smarter than what you'd first thought of her, you thought her to be naive but she could handle herself just fine, she could throw a punch if she had to, she knew how to use that gun of hers despite claiming she wasn't very good. It made you want Lucy to stick around a little longer but you knew as soon as she'd found her dad, she would be back in that vault and you'd be alone again, left to wander the lonely world.
You didn't know Lucy had other ideas, the way she spoke about her home, the way her eyes lit up talking about her family, her life, but you could see she craved adventure in it which is perhaps why she was so eager to follow you to whatever destination was next.
You didn't have a set destination, just away, forward, an old bed and shitty food, somewhere to sleep, that is the only thing you wanted, always looking for the next place, you didn't get attached much to those types of things, it was all the same everywhere. Lucy, on the other hand, is convinced that it's all great, a little scary but great, she'd had a look of curiosity whenever you landed some place new or had some story to tell, she always listened with a look of interest, eager to know everything that she sadly missed in the world. She asked so many questions and a part of you had grown fond of her daily dialogues, it was growing into a sort of routine.
"We're friends, right?" She asked, her gaze travelling over to where you walked beside her, you turn to her with this unsure look for a moment and then nod, "I guess..." Is the first thing you utter out, "Why do you ask?" Lucy smiled at the confirmation and kept her eyes on you, "After I've found my dad, would you wanna live with me?" You halt, stopping in your tracks, "You mean in your vault?" Lucy's quick to nod and you scoff out a laugh and begin to walk again, "No." She frowns and hurries after you, "Why? It's not like you've got places to be." You pull a face and stare ahead of you, "Oh, I've got places to be, just not in some underground cage." Lucy scoffs at this, "It isn't a cage, it's my home, would you at least consider it?" You shake your head again and walk faster trying to end the discussion at last, "No, now stop asking." Lucy pouts at your tone, then immediately follows up on your refusal, "Why not? Could you at least give me a real explanation as to why?" You'd stopped walking once more, turning to face her with this wary look in your eyes, "I've heard the stories about what went down in those vaults, there's a reason that a bunch of them are now empty." You begin to walk again, but her hand grasps your arm gently and you can see the look of confusion on her face, "What do you mean empty?"
You sigh at her question but her clueless expression had you answering her anyway, "A lot of those vaults were all only made as some fucked up experiment, I had a really old ancestor or whatever it's called, they were living in a vault and when shit went bad down there it went bad, it isn't you're fault, but from the stories I've heard I'd rather take my chances up here on the surface." You explain to her, glancing at the map when you saw her frown deepen at your explanation, "At least up here you got plenty of places you can run and hide, down in a vault, well... you wouldn't stand a chance."
Lucy frowned when you decided to keep walking, instant thoughts swimming in her head at your words, vault 33 is safe, isn't it?
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After three weeks, you had given up hope that Lucy was ever going to find her dad. The only information that she had found was that the woman who took him was called Moldaver and everyone knew who she was but nobody actually knew where she was. It was an irritating thing, a majority of the puzzle solved but the single piece to add to it was missing and you and Lucy were growing tired of the dead ends and false leads.
You were in some shed for the night, a small lantern was being used as light, usually as soon as nightfall hit both of you, Lucy would sleep soundly but not tonight, she had a troubled expression and stayed awake with you, looking through an old box from the before when she gasped at something she'd found, "Oh, my Gosh!" She exclaimed in excitement and you turned to her with curiosity, "What's that?" You asked and she turned it to you with a grin, "I can't believe this survived after all these years!" She was quick to shuffle closer to you, handing you a worn down holotape, "Do you know who this is?" She asks and you peer at the cover under the light before nodding, "Yeah, he's some old actor from before, used to be known for those cowboy movies, my dad loved the movie with the dog." You admitted and Lucy grinned at this, "My dad is this guy's biggest fan, he has almost all the movies, we usually watch one of these during movie nights." With a hum of acknowledgement you glance back at the box in front of you, "What's his name again?" Lucy thinks about it for a moment before answering, "Cooper Howard." At the mention of his name, you raise your canister, "Well, I am about 200 years too late but rest in peace, Coop." A humoured laugh left Lucy as she raised her own bottle of water, clinking it against your own, "Rest in peace, wish my dad could've met you, he's a huge fan of your movies, even the cheesy ones." You scoff out a laugh, your nose is quick to burn when the water travels down your throat at a faster pace.
Lucy pretty laugh made you glance at her with a look of softness about you, the way her eyes crinkled when she's smiling, how her whole body moved when she laughed, it made you smile at her for the first time and when she had finally calmed her laughter down she turned to face you, a smile of her own when she realised you were looking at her without a facade. "You're pretty when you smile," She admits quietly and when your smile parts, she thinks she may have offended you and immediately backtracks, "I'm not saying you're only pretty when you smile, you're not, you're pretty all the time actually -"
Her ramblings are cut off when your lips press against her own, at first she froze at your move and then you felt her smile against you, bringing her hand up to your face with such softness that you almost didn't realise it was there, a part of you wanted more but another part needed to stop and make sure she wanted you in the same way you want her and so you broke your lips apart from hers and met a flushed face in front of you. "Is that offer still open?" Was your first question, "To come live with you in your vault?" Lucy immediately grinned and kissed you strongly before breaking apart, "Yes, of course it is!" She laughed out and you smiled back at her softly. "Well I'm thinking that we'd better be on our way to the next town, don't wanna move in without your dad's approval, right?"
Lucy stood up, a smile crossing her features at your tone, the hint of playfulness making her grab your hand tightly and open the door to outside.
"Let's go rescue your dad, Vaultie."
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ancuninfiles · 1 month
Text
Comfort
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Screenshot by @astarionposting
5.6k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Tav - 18+
Summary: Nym, a wood-elf, finds herself thrust into leadership of a ragtag crew. From day one she is overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. She seeks solace and unexpectedly finds herself drawn to the tent of a pale elf. In the intimacy of their encounter, they both ponder the potential for mutual comfort and connection amidst the chaos of their new journey. ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ Oneshot turned into a multi-chaptered work. I changed her name from Tav to Nym bc I am becoming attached to her and she needs a proper name. Pronounced "Nim"
Tags: Smut and Fluff, Druid Tav, Tav has catgirl vibes, Soft Astarion, P in V sex, Oral (female receiving), Wood elf Tav, Blood drinking, Vampire bites, Choking, Light BDSM, Enthusiastic consent, Soft dom Astarion, Tav is autism-coded, Romantic Comedy, Creampie, Aftercare, Realizations of feelings, Astarion is a dork
I changed Tav's name to Nym (Nim)
Read on AO3 (recommended)
Read part 2
It was a brisk night in Faerün. She had acquired allies that had also been infected with Mind Flayer parasites today. It was day 1 of this bullshit and they already had chosen her to be their leader for some reason. It was too much pressure. She already had a hard enough time deciding what to eat for breakfast, let alone make life-or-death decisions. She started getting a headache just thinking about how overwhelming all this was, and she wasn't sure if it was maybe partially caused by the literal worm in her fucking brain. 
"Silvanus, save me." She whispered a quiet prayer to herself in her tent. 
Nym started to think of what she usually does when she is stressed out. 
- Make tea (Shit, we have no tea, at least not the ones I am willing to drink from the woods in this region.)
- Take a warm bath (Well, there was the cold Chionthar. Getting cold and wet before bed was an idiotic idea.)
- Read a book (We have no books at camp yet, better add it to my Gods forsaken shopping list.)
Nym groaned in frustration. 'What else what else what else!? Come on, think.' 
Nym remembered that when she was growing up, Wild Shaping into a cat would often provide her comfort in trying times. She was able to cozy up in tight places like baskets and tree stumps. Nobody would ask anything of her or disturb her. 
If she Wild Shaped into a cat right now and hung out a bit outside of camp, she doubts her new-found "friends" would go looking for her. They just met and there is no way they are on that level. If she disappeared right now forever, they probably wouldn't even think about her ever again. Perfect. She just needed to slink away for an hour or so to decompress without the threat of the companions asking her for instruction or expecting her to have a fucking plan.
Nym stepped out about 30 meters into the woods, wearing sandals and trying to avoid getting twigs stuck between her toes. She needs to avoid having a meltdown and ripping her hair out for at least long enough to get into her cat form. 
"ERRG" She fumed. Sap managed to get into her sandals and it was sending her teetering over the edge. 
She transformed in a rage into a fluffy white cat with green eyes and a pink nose. Suddenly her hearing had improved. One thing she forgot about her cat form was that everything was much louder. Usually, the sounds of nature would help calm her, but right now, everything was setting her off. She could practically feel the sound of the wind bristling through the trees.
Her clothes remained in a pile on the forest floor. She stepped out of them with grace and then started making her way back to camp. Surely none of her companions would find it strange that a cat was hanging out at camp. They would probably just assume she was looking for scraps or hunting for fish down by the river. 
She arrived at the tree line and saw that everyone was either at their tents or in their tents. Good. She started walking to the fire, past the pale elf's red fancy tent. She couldn't remember his name. 'Aster? Asherion? Hmm.' She pondered. He was slightly threatening but mostly cute. He seemed to have a handful of sardonic quips in his arsenal. Locked and loaded, ready to fire whenever the tension needed to be broken. She always adored people like that. Those types of people were always good to have around, especially when she found herself often being embarrassed in social situations, falling silent and not knowing what to say. Gods it helps having someone silly with a dark sense of humour to just be idiots with. She hoped that he liked her, too, and maybe they could be buddies. Maybe he would help make the horrors feel less horrible. 
She was almost at the fire and heard something from behind her. It was the pale elf, Ass-er-rion or whatever the Hells his name was. Was he? No. No fucking way.
He was holding his hand out, rubbing his thumb to his fingers. "Psspsspsspsspsssss." The pale elf made the one sound that Nym couldn't resist in her cat form.
Hypnotized by his hand and his sounds, Nym's cat pupils blew as wide as can be and she brought her body tight to the ground and stalked towards The white-haired elf's tent. 
'Huhuh... Shit. I want - that hand. What - is in hand? I must bite hand.' She thought, against her better judgment. She crawled closer to his hand, and then she sped up. Finally, she pounced on his hand and wrist, nibbling at his wrist and kicking his hand.
"Ah ah, we ask before we bite." He said as he started to rub her soft fluffy tummy. Nym was disarmed and quickly unlatched from The elf's arm. She slumped into a puddle and slowly closed her eyes.
'Mmm, this is so relaxing.' She thought. Nym started purring. This was exactly what she needed.
The grinning elf scooped her up and put her on his lap. "You are a very cuddly kitty." He said quietly in a baby voice. He started scratching her armpits and under her chin. Rubbing her belly when she rolled over, scratching and patting the base of her tail when she rolled back onto her tummy.
'Free massages for kitty Nym. Hmm, this is the best!' She thought. She would occasionally stand up on his lap, stretching her front paws up to his chest and rubbing her head on his chin. It felt so nice. There was not a worry in her mind. 
He scratched and petted Nym's cat form thoroughly for 5 minutes before lying back while Nym rested on his chest, curled up in a ball, peacefully trancing and purring. He stroked her languidly across her side, occasionally petting her tail by gently holding it and making his way down to the tip before going back up the base and giving it a little scratch. 
Nym started slowly kneading at his chest with her toes and claws. This was the definition of bliss. She lay cozily on his still chest, accepting any and all the pets the gentle pale elf could offer her. 
"Oh kitty, I have had a terrible day, you wouldn't believe it." He whispered, "Your snuggles are the highlight of my evening." He said quietly in baby talk as he booped her nose and she twitched her head back but remained comfortable on his chest.
"Do- do you think people will understand if I bite like you do?" He asked in his most hushed tone. "Will people think I'm cute if I bite like you? Gods I'm starving." He says as he throws his unoccupied hand to his face, cupping his nose and then running his hand down his face, pulling his skin with it in frustration.
Nym then stopped kneading. The sound of his hand making contact with his face slightly startled her. Not only that, his words slightly pulled her out of her trance. 'If I bite like you do... okay? Odd. But then 'Gods I'm starving.' Uhmm...' she thought to herself. Still snuggled up on his chest, but now with her paws tucked under her chest and purring a quiet rumble on him. 
She started thinking, hard. 'What an odd thing for one to say. Is he a cannibal? Like the Bhallspawn type?' She sniffed. 'He doesn't smell like a Bhallspawn, usually they have an undertone of rot in their scent. What other type of person likes to bite people? Zombie? No. Stupid. Not a fucking zombie. A vampire? No way. He was in the beating sun when we had met. He would have been ash before I even got there if he was a vampire. Although..' she peered up at his face, looking for the tell-tale signs of a vampire. His eyes were closed and his head was back, so she decided to stand on his hard chest and stalk up to his face, sniffing his lips. 
He felt a tickle on his mouth that made him open his eyes and smile. "Oh, kitty you are so sweet!" He said in a squishy tone.  He picked her up off his chest and sat up in his candlelit tent.
Nym looked him over. She peered into his eyes which were garnet red. 'Oh fuck. Well... if he doesn't have fangs, maybe he is just part drow or something.' But then he flashed her a toothy grin. 'FANGS? OH FUCK. OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK.' She started to panic. Her fur started to stick straight up off her skin... If the pale elf had been looking at her, he would probably be concerned.
"Well kitty, time for me to start getting ready to sleep." He said with a smile as he took off his night-shirt and then began to unlace his trousers. 
'SHIT. THIS IS NOT OKAY. I CAN'T BE HERE.' In a panic, she let out a loud and low-pitched yowl before suddenly transforming back into a human in his tent. Naked. 
They both screamed and then simultaneously went to cover one another's mouths with their hands. Then, they fell silent as they stared at each other's terrified eyes. 
"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Yelled the wizard from his tent.
The pale elf ripped your hand away from his mouth. He was pissed. "Yes! Just practicing for the opera!" He looked back at you with a deep frown and rolled his eyes.
"I see. Well maybe save it for tomorrow instead of waking everyone at camp, thank you."
Nym couldn't help but giggle a bit under his palm. Shit, he was hilarious. Suddenly becoming too aware of the lack of clothes she had on, she pulled away from his palm and scrunched her knees to her chest. "Can I uh, have that blanket for a moment, please."
The pale elf scoffed, "Fine, but only because I am such a gentleman. Godsdamned druids." He gave her the blanket and she draped it over her shoulders and around her knees.
"I, uhm, I'm really sorry." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
The handsome elf pinched his brow ridge with his finger and thumb, as he closed his eyes and scrunched his face in a scowl. "Why did you let me go on for so long, believing you were a real cat."
Nym looked down in shame. "I guess it's just that when I wild shape, sometimes the instincts of whatever animal I turn into take over me. Like I'm not in control." She sighs. "You called me over and your massaging felt so good. I was really stressed before, and, well, sometimes I turn into a cat to help calm myself down... I just, uh, didn't realize that we had a major cat-lover in camp."
The pale elf covered his face with both his hands as if trying to hide how embarrassed he was. He whined "Ohoho Gods save me. For once. Please just this once."
"I um - heard, also, what you said about biting and what-not," Nym says, awkwardly. "And your eyes, and teeth... Well... Also, I forget your name. What was it again? Asherton?"
He then ran both his hands through his hair and grabbed at his scalp. His eyebrows raised and his eyes were wide and staring at the floor of the tent. "This isn't happening." He said as his voice cracked. "No, this isn't real. I must be having a nightmare or - something." 
Nym stared at him with concern. He looked like he had one foot in the looney bin. "RAHH I said I'm sorry and it's okay that you're toothy and bitey." She snipped. For some reason, Nym felt too comfortable around this creature who could easily rip her throat out. He was just too silly for her to be scared of, for the most part. 
He took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale. "Astarion."
"A'staring at what? I'm sorry I'll look away." Said Nym, turning her head sideways to make him feel more comfortable.
"No, you blubbering idiot. That's my name. My name's Astarion." He quipped.
"Oh - uh - haha. So can I look at you or...?" She asked him genuinely.
"If a wall were nearby, I would smash my head against it." 
"Why would you do that? There are lots of trees behind your tent. And a big boulder if I remember correctly."
Astarion just stared at her, mouth agape and brows knitted together.
There was an awkward silence and it made Nym quite uncomfortable.
"I should go." She started to get up to walk out of the tent but Astarion grabbed her shoulder. 
"Wait!" He realized that he may have sounded a bit too desperate. With an intentionally lower tone, he spoke to her calmly while tilting his head down and looking at her through his black eyelashes. "Look. I just need more details on what you found out about me, please."
Nym turned back around to face him, still wearing his brown blanket like a cloak. "Oh! Well, I might have concluded that you are a vampire. But it confuses me a lot that you can walk in the sun so..." She paused.
Astarion fakely smiled and exhaled "Ah, okay. Glad we've cleared that up. Is there any chance that you could keep those pretty lips of yours shut about this specific topic with the others? You see, I would much rather break the news myself if I can."
Nym looked at him as if he had accused her of doing something she didn't do. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone. I think I realized that you're not dangerous - well, not dangerous to us at least." Her voice calmed with each word in her statement. 
"What?" He looked at her, shocked. "I'll have you know I am very dangerous, actually." He enunciated every syllable of the last word pointedly and smiled.
"Hmm, but you wouldn't hurt me! Right?" Nym asked with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Astarion pursed his lips to the side and held his chin with a finger as he thought about this question. "Hmm." He let go of his chin and then looked Nym up and down with a cheeky smirk. "Not unless you want me to," he leaned in close to Nym, almost brushing his lips on her ear, "darling."
Nym's face turned red as a tomato. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," she exclaimed.
"I recall you biting me without asking, dear." He snaked his right hand to the back of her head, fingers gently running through her hair. "Do you remember what I told you?"
Nym gulped and looked at Astarion with a mixture of fear, confusion, and lust. "To ask before I bite."
"Good girl. Now it would only be right of me to follow my own rules, correct?" Astarion asked in a sultry voice. He started rubbing the back of Nym's head, massaging her scalp.
Nym's head lolled back. Her eyes closed and she let out a deep sigh of pleasure. "Mmm yeah." She practically moaned as she leaned more into his hand that was massaging her head both thoroughly and tenderly. 
"So, Nym, what do you say? Can I bite you? I only need a taste, I swear."
Nym was entranced by his massaging. "You can do whatever you want, Orion - or whatever your name was." 
Astarion then slowly removed his hand from Nym's scalp and rested it on her shoulder. "Whatever I want? Darling, are you sure about this? We might get carried away. We've only just met."
Nym smiled and sighed happily. She looked at Astarion with a restful gaze. "Where I'm from, stuff like that doesn't really matter. I'm a wood elf, I'm sure you've heard about our ways." She reached a hand out from under the blanket that was cloaking her and rested it on his shoulder, mirroring him. "But of course, I would only want to do things if you wanted to as well. I mean, I might still want to if you don't want to but that obviously doesn't mean you have t-" he shushed her with a finger on her mouth and she looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He asked, trying his best to not sound like a dick without beating around the bush.
She spoke through her fingered lips. "Yeah, people actually usually say that I talk too much, but I think they're jus-" Astarion silenced her with a bruising kiss. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in as he climbed to his knees above her. 
He broke the kiss with a pop and then licked his lips as he looked down at her. He smirked. 
She was looking back up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. 
"You know, I rather like you, my dear. A lot." He said to her in a surprisingly genuine tone. "Now how about we make ourselves comfortable." He gestured to his bedroll.
"Oh! Yes!" She answered. She threw the blanket that was covering her back sloppily and then hurried to the bedroll, her breasts swaying as she climbed on all fours towards her destination. She hesitated for a moment. "Wait, do you want me on top or do you want to be on top?"
He felt a rush in his lower abdomen that made his cock twitch. There was something about a woman who felt so comfortable and confident in her skin that stirred something in him. "My sweet, if you wouldn't mind lying beneath me, I would be delighted. It will also help when I'm tasting your life's essence. We wouldn't want you toppling over, would we?"
"Right." She scooted to the bedroll and lay on her back. 
Astarion mounted her and nudged her supple thighs open with his knee. He pushed her legs up to expose her core, positioning himself fully between her legs. He sat there on his knees for a moment, taking her in. His eyebrows canted up in a frown. Gods, she was adorable. Her body was perfect. She got on his nerves a lot today but he respected her openness with him. He couldn't help but admit to himself that her silliness was extremely endearing as well. It wasn't often that he would meet someone charming in the way that Nym was. He desperately wanted her blood but he also had an urge to make her feel good, to make her whimper his name. 
Nym was blushing a deep red beneath him. She glared up at him and bit her lip. Her arms were to her sides, in cactus pose. She intuitively trusted him so deeply that she exposed her most vulnerable parts to him, willingly. 
They had only just met that day and now, in the night when everyone slept, they were about to become one. One of Nym's top 3 activities, to be sure. 
Astarion snaked down to Nym's pelvis with his head, squeezing her thighs in his wake. Nym let out a quiet mewl and looked at him desperately. 
"Tell me if you want me to stop, darling" he asserted, and hovered his mouth over her pussy, waiting for her response.
"Of course, love." She managed to say despite her eagerness to be ravished. 
"Perfect." Astarion cooed. He immediately licked a thick stripe through her folds and kissed her clit, which caused Nym to throw her head back and moan. This encouraged him further to start teasing her clit with his tongue. She arched her back and started wildly bucking herself onto his tongue. He held her down to gain control and she groaned in both pleasure and frustration. 
"Careful, dear, I have sharp teeth." He grinned at her for a moment and locked eyes with her. Her face was twisted with pleasure. "Be a good girl and try to hold still."
"Mmhm" she moaned out and clenched around nothing at his teasing. 
He continued his ministrations on her cunt and he tasted a gush come from her hole. He groaned into her clit as he sucked on it mercilessly. He inserted a finger as he teased her nub with his tongue and she clenched around his digit. 
"Hmm stuff me more, please, baby." She pleaded to him. She was experienced, and so was he. She knew how to tell him what she needed and wanted. The thought made his cock twitch and grow even larger in his unlaced pants. 
Not wanting to slow his mouth, he didn't say anything and simply added a second finger to her hole. She choked out a moan and her pelvis started to become more unruly under his grasp.
He curled his fingers and pumped them into her at a consistent pace while playing with her clit with his tongue. The tips of his digits stroked her spongy wall, driving her crazy. 
She gritted her teeth and groaned through them, glancing down at Astarion. She gently brushed her fingers in his hair to encourage him and he grunted into her core again.
Her legs tensed and her breath picked up to a runner's pace. "I'm gonna cum! Astarion!" She moaned loud enough for the whole camp to hear. This certainly wasn't something she was shy about, he thought.
He continued fucking her with his hand and licking her clit as she rode out her orgasm.
"Ahh! Too much! No more, please!" She sweetly hissed. 
"Good girl, you are so good at following instructions." He crawled his arms to either side of her and came up to kiss her tenderly. "And I'm surprised you remembered my name, darling. I'm impressed." He jested. He pushed down his pants just enough for his large member to spring out and rest on her soaking cunt.
"Hmph" she let out a huff of air. "Well certainly don't have the will to protest you right now." She retorted. Her hands rested at the sides of her head. Her chest heaved with breathlessness.
Astarion admired her form and her face. He would’ve said that he wished he had noticed her beauty sooner, but - well, he had only met her today.
"Mmm you can stare if you want but," she wriggled her hips against his cock which caused his eyebrows to knit and his mouth to form an "O". He choked out a whine. 
"Oh, you cheeky little pup." He cooed
"I remember you calling me 'kitty', actually." She teased and smirked at him.
"You're gonna pay for that." He stated as reached for his shaft and aligned himself with her core. He pushed the head of his cock into her tight hole with a grin on his face.
She let out a high-pitched moan and her face twisted into a needy expression.
She was incredibly wet and tight. He slowly entered her and she started twirling her hips sensually. He eased into her with little effort until he was fully buried to the hilt between her legs and his tip kissed her cervix snugly.
She threw her legs up above his arms and her feet dangled in the air above them. 
He started thrusting into her slowly while leaning his torso closer into her. They both whined and their lips connected in a passionate and messy kiss. Their tongues danced around each other's mouths, fighting for dominance. He unhooked one of her legs from his arm and grabbed her cheeks gently to pry her mouth open further. Her pussy fluttered around his cock at his actions. 
He pulled his mouth from hers. "Does the little druid like it rough?" He teased
"Uhuh," she whined. "Choke me, please!" She begged.
He groaned excitedly at her lewd suggestion. This moment made him realize how good it felt to be in control, even if it was only an illusion. Even when the other person wanted it. Especially when the other person wanted it. It was something he had deeply craved for centuries, but he never had the opportunity to have any control over any aspect of his life. Maybe things were about to get better for him, despite their condition.
He snaked his hand towards her throat. He remembered what it felt like to be strangled. He could certainly understand the appeal, under the right circumstances and if done safely of course.
"Take a deep breath, dear." He smirked as he consistently rutted into her core.
Nym took a deep breath as if she had done this before and she "knew the drill" so to speak. He then grasped the sides of her throat firmly and she tightened violently around his cock.
"What a good little druid, you are." He started thrusting into her faster and harder, using his grip on her throat to push her into his pelvis with unrelenting force. He slightly straightened the arm that was at her throat and lifted his torso from her. He placed his other hand on her clit and started rubbing.
Nym's face started to become a darker red than her typical blush, and she groaned. Her leg muscles were showing the signs of an impending orgasm. Her back arched off the bedroll and he slammed into her throbbing cunt remorselessly. 
"I'm coming again, Astarion!" She choked out her cries of pleasure as she came with his hand around her throat. He continued playing with her clit as he removed his hand from her throat and the flush on her skin began to fade ever so slightly. He hooked her right leg over his left shoulder. She was still fluttering around his shaft as he bent over her, tilted her head to the side roughly with a strong grasp on either cheek and sunk his fangs into her flesh. He removed his hand from her cheeks and used it to grab the back of her head.
He groaned needily into her neck as he fucked her, his pace faltering slightly. Her blood was delectable. This was the best gift he had ever gotten, and he was sure to not forget it.
Astarion felt Nym wriggling to free her clit from his abuse, so he removed that hand from her and then propped himself up on his elbow. Nym choked out a moan and she snaked her arm around to caress his soft white curls. He was so gorgeous. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful man she had ever bedded, and that was saying a lot because she had bedded many men before, sometimes at the same time, all of whom were very attractive. 
For some reason, letting him sup from her felt wholesome. As if she was helping a dear friend in need. 
Astarion was taking languid gulps of her blood, savouring the divine flavour as it coated his tongue and throat. He grasped the back of her head with a strong hand to hold her steady, all while fucking her drenched hole raw. 
"Can you cum inside me, baby?" Nym asked, hoping he was still with it enough to hear her request.
Astarion groaned an "Uhuh" into her throat. Wet slapping noises and moans filled the camp until Astarion did one final snap into Nym's core as he drank from her neck. He filled her with his seed to the brim. He did a few more shallow sensual thrusts until he stilled. He had yet to unlatch himself from Nym's throat.
Nym started to feel light-headed and weak, so she knew that it was time to request for him to stop; that is if he could control himself.
"Stary, baby. Please - stop." She cooed gently at him and tugged tenderly at the curls on the nape of his neck. 
Astarion took one last gulp and then he found the will to tear himself from her, panting instinctively. He craned his head into her neck and made sure to not waste a drop of her blood. He cleaned her up with his tongue, and he kissed her neck lovingly. 
"Mmm," Nym cooed as she rotated her hips around Astarion's still-hard cock which had yet to exit her.
He grunted, lifted his head from her neck, grabbed her hips with both hands and then thrust into her. He placed his hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her into a sloppy, exhausted kiss. Nym moaned at that, and their lips flew apart. They looked one another in the eye affectionately.
"As much as it would be nice to continue, I fear I will be too sore for tomorrow if we plan on doing this again." Nym sighed.
"It seems you are as eager as I, you sweet thing." He finally pulled himself out of Nym and they both sighed. "Now, kitty, shall I grab your blankets and tuck you in to spend the rest of your night entranced next to me? After we clean you up, of course." 
Nym blushed and fought back a grin that was growing on her face. "I really fucking like you. You're my favourite." She said with a cheeky smile, beneath him.
"The feeling is quite mutual, darling. If you couldn't tell already." He exclaimed and then placed a peck on her forehead before giving her head a little scratch. "Right, then, I'll be right back." 
Astarion tucked himself into his pants and laced them up. He nicked his best handkerchief and set out to find the kettle next to the fire. The water was warm, but not hot. He soaked his handkerchief and rang it out. He brought the damp fabric back to his tent. "Hello, there." He smiled. 
"Hi, Astarion. Long time, no see!" She giggled at her own joke. 
"You are quite the silly one. I'm becoming very fond of that laugh of yours."  Astarion stated, genuinely.
"Hmm well, you make me giggle a lot, too, if you haven't noticed." She winked at him and smirked.
"Oh, I make all sorts of sounds come out of you, apparently." He teased her, "Now let me help you wash up, sweet love."
She laughed again and she let him help her get cleaned up. It was a tender moment between two strangers who had sought comfort in the form of connection. Nym believed that moments like these were just as nature intended. That was how she was raised, and those were the teachings of Silvanus. 
Astarion tenderly wiped Nym clean with his soft cloth, making sure to be both thorough and gentle. Nym turned to face her bum to him and he used his free hand to briefly massage her backside. This gesture felt more sensual rather than sexual. Nym hummed into the feeling and pushed into his touch.
Astarion grinned, feeling satisfied with his efforts. He then left the tent again to rinse his cloth in the river and hang it up outside his tent in a somewhat obscured location. He stalked over to Nym's tent to gather her belongings, which there were few of. He managed to snag a couple of blankets, a pillow, and an unopened glass bottle of water.
He strode back to his tent, where Nym resided, and opened the tent flap with his hand that was holding the water bottle. "I have come with all the fixings, love. I hoped that you had had more blankets. It seems as though we will have to add it to our shopping list." He stated.
"We? Oh, it would be so pleasant to have someone's assistance with that. I've been finding this whole "leader" thing quite overwhelming." Nym awkwardly laughed and then frowned.
"Well, apologies. I should have offered to help you sooner. I may be a monster but I'm not a bum. I can't say the same for our other "companions", however." he quipped.
Nym rolled over on her back and smiled at Astarion, brightly. "You're not a monster, you're just a bit toothy. I can be toothy sometimes, and I don't think I'm a monster."
"Hmm well you are only slightly devious so I suppose they would make an exception in the Guide to Monsters." He smirked at her before undressing himself fully.
"Oh, stop. You love me." She jested.
"Maybe a little, I do have a thing for pretty morsels with claws." He attentively and tactfully placed each blanket atop one another. He kneeled beside her head. "Up." He gestured. She lifted her head slightly and he tucked her pillow under it. 
He opened the blankets and crawled in next to her. She was lying on her back with her eyes closed and her hands rested on her ribcage lazily. He nudged and caressed her cheek with his knuckle and then ghosted a thumb over her lips. She turned to face him and opened her eyes. Her hand snaked up to his ear and she stroked it softly. He closed his eyes at the affection, and then he sighed.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since someone touched him with so much affection. His closed eyes started watering at the thought, but he quickly pushed the thought aside and regained his composure. Fortunately, he had been able to avoid having Nym see his sudden emotion at her touch. It was better that he have a conversation with her about that once they had become more well-acquainted. For now, he tried to just enjoy this tender moment between him and his newfound friend. 
They lay entwined with one another, trancing until the sun came up. 
Despite their predicament, they both almost felt it a blessing that they had found one another. The bond that had begun forming between them felt powerful, in a way that could make both of them stronger. This was a good thing. 
Comfort can be a good thing.
Read part 2
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𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦
Haha...so...I wrote this in one sitting on my phone, which is unlike me. I prefer working on my computer but oh well, I couldn't stop. I'm insatiable and there was not enough Tom in season 2.
Summary: You and Tom take a nice walk through the park...until the rain starts pouring.
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), kinda mean!dom Tom, implied subspace, teasing, dacryphilia, slapping, daddy kink, degradation, orgasm denial/control, and fluff cause I couldn't help myself🤷🏻‍♀️
word count | 2.2k🤙🏻
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It had been a few weeks since Tom came back home. Tears of joy rarely seemed to leave your eyes, as Tom rarely ever let you leave his bed. But today, you decided it was too lovely outside to stay indoors all day, even though it would’ve been enjoyed regardless. The weather was predicted to be sunny with a nice breeze all afternoon, so you couldn’t possibly let yourself waste such a day.
You managed to convince Tom of the idea, after what seemed like hours of complaining and trying to get you to change your mind. But you weren’t having it, no matter how many times Tom said he’d bring you to a breathtaking release if you’d just allow yourselves to stay home.
You both walked to a local park, hand in hand, basking in the warm glow the sun offered, hearing the birds chirp happily, and glancing around at all the other people who must've had the same idea as you. And Tom, albeit reluctantly, started allowing himself to enjoy it and your company. Although, seeing a kid drop their ice cream cone and immediately bursting into fitful wails brought him enough joy that he started to think it was worth it. 
It wasn't until the skies suddenly darkened, the sun almost disappearing into oblivion, that you and Tom started regretting your decisions. 
It was slow at first, just a few droplets hitting the tops of your heads, then a few droplets turned into an absolute downpour. 
You squealed as you, Tom, and everyone else at the park started to get drenched, most scurrying to their vehicles or shutting themselves in their homes that were somewhat nearby. You and Tom didn't have such luck, as you both walked miles to get to this destination. What a great choice on your part. So all you really could do was take cover along the treeline of the woods that aesthetically encircled the park. 
As you watched the rain come down harder, you heard Tom sigh heavily and you rolled your eyes, already knowing you were about to get an earful...but it never came. You looked up at him in slight curiosity, seeing that a content expression was plastered over his visage, not an annoyed wrinkle or frown in sight. 
Tom glanced towards you, seeing your confused expression. "What?" 
You shook your head, jutting your bottom lip out slightly and shrugging your shoulders. "Thought you'd be...less calm than you are right now. More...mad." 
Tom furrowed his brows, going back to watching the rainfall. "Why would I be mad?" 
You chuckled weakly. "Well, you didn't really wanna come out here in the first place." 
He smirked, gently bumping your shoulder with his. "Ah, I was just pulling your leg, luv. I was happy to come out here, with you. I'm still happy to be here with you...never thought I'd get the chance again." 
You'd think your whole body would turn into a puddle right then and there, mixing with the rain and seeping into the damp soil. But alas, all it did was ignite a burning, consuming fire in the pit of your belly, almost disappointed Tom said such a thing and didn't do anything afterwards. 
You looked at your surroundings. Not a soul in sight, nobody but the two of you. The scarce playground equipment shook and swings swung violently with the wind, creaking and groaning from the force. If you were to scream, most likely no one would be able to hear you through the small storm. Why did the thought turn you on even more? And Tom, he looked so peaceful, the ever permanent curve in his lips deepening every time thunder shook the earth. 
Before you could overthink it, you started to lower yourself to the ground, the muddiness of the dirt that started to stick to your knees and ends of your dress doing nothing to quell the desire that kept on building inside you. 
Gaining his attention immediately, Tom looked down at you in dark intrigue, watching as you settled yourself on your knees. "And what do you think you're doing, sweet girl?" You didn't reply as you reached your hands up to palm his cock through his trousers, hearing him let out a barely audible grunt at your ministrations. "You do realize we're in public?" 
"You want me to stop?" You looked up at him with wide doe eyes, putting on an innocent expression even though you and Tom both knew fully well how debaucherous you really could be. 
You gasped as Tom reached down, grabbing you by the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. "You're a fuckin' vixen, you know that? A whore is what you've turned into since I've been gone, is that it?" 
"Yes...but I'm your whore." 
And with that response, you crossed the point of no return, which is exactly where you wanted to be. 
Tom smirked, his cock instantly responding to your words and actions. "Yeah, you are, baby." He brought you into another passionate kiss, biting your bottom lip before pulling away, making you whimper. "Let's see how your whore mouth can be put to use, hm?" He growled, leaning back and relaxing against a tree, a smug aura surrounding him as he watched and waited for your next move. 
You smiled as you took his cock out, hard and pulsing warmly beneath the weight of your hand, a gush of slick pooling at your entrance at the breathy moan Tom made as you ran your tongue along him from base to tip, weakly suckling on the head to tease him. And you repeated those motions a few times before he stopped you, grabbing onto your hair with a growl. "Fuckin' tease. You gonna suck my cock like a good little slut, or do I have to force you? 'Cause I can force you, luv, you know I can." You involuntarily let out a whimpery moan, clenching your thighs together at his low, threatening voice. "Ah, I see. That's what you want, huh? You want me to use you like the whore you are? I can fuckin' do that." 
"Tom-" You yelped when he slapped you with his cockhead, making you widen your eyes up at him. 
"Nah, sweetheart, whores don't get to use my real name. So, I'm only gonna ask you once: who am I?" 
Your heart hammered in your ribcage, never having felt so frightened and aroused at the same time. "...Daddy." 
Tom grinned evilly, and in pride. "That's my good girl. Now, beg Daddy to fuck your mouth, go on." 
"Daddy," you let out with another pathetic whimper, "please, fuck my mouth. I need to feel your big cock." 
"Open." He prodded the tip of his cock at your lips, coaxing them to part. "Wider. Yeah, that's it." He groaned loudly as he rammed himself inside your hot, wet mouth, hitting the back of your throat immediately and making you gag around him. "Fuck, so good for me." He pulled back and thrusted back in roughly, over and over again, until tears ran down your cheeks and your drool spilt down your chin copiously. "See what happens when you tease your Daddy, hm? You brought this on yourself." 
You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan loudly, the still pouring rain drowning at any noise. No one would be able to hear you gagging on his dick, or his moans, nor the wet squelching of your cunt as you started to finger yourself to relieve some of the tension building in you. But Tom could hear it. "You better not be touching yourself, girl. Only I get to abuse that pretty pussy of yours." Tom pulled you up from the ground, your lips releasing his dick with a wet pop, your fingers retreating from your quivering form in the process. 
Your eyes were glazed over in a haze, mad with lust and pleasure, unable to focus as Tom brought up your hand by the wrist. He lightly slapped you, bringing your vision back into focus. "Were you touching yourself?" 
He asked so lowly, you were scared, so you mewled out a soft, "No." 
Your response only made him smirk. "Hm. So, if I were to stick your fingers in my mouth, I wouldn't be able to taste you, right?" You didn't even have the chance to respond before he wrapped his lips around your fingers, his tongue swirling around the digits before releasing them with another hum. "A whore and a liar? What am I to do with you?" 
And before you knew it, Tom had you pinned up against the same tree he was leaning on previously, the bark digging into your back uncomfortably. "You know what I do with whores, but what do you think I should do with liars? Surely, I shouldn't reward them for their behavior, right?" 
You stuttered, unable to form words in your lust driven mind. "Tom-" You started to sob out, being interrupted with another slap, much harsher than the last. 
"What did I tell you?" He growled. "Whores aren't allowed to use my real name. Why can't you just do as you're told? You've grown so wild and rebellious since I've been away. I think I need to put you back in your place." 
Tom turned you around, lifting up your dress to reveal your underwear already pushed to the side, giving him access to your needy cunt. "Just a slut." You cried out loudly as he pushed two fingers inside you roughly. "That's all you are." He spat in your ear, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot, tears springing to your ears as pleasure overtook you all too easily. "So worked up, aren't you? You gonna come so quickly?" 
"Yes!" You sobbed, practically shaking from the cold of the atmosphere and the pleasure Tom was giving you. And he wouldn't fuckin' stop, bringing you right to the precipice before pulling away completely and landing a painful slap to your clit. "Ow!" You whined.
"What? You think I was gonna let you come that easily? No, you have to earn it, girl." 
"Please...please..." You cried softly, completely leaning onto the tree in quiet exhaustion, so desperate for a release that you couldn't possibly notice or care about the wood scratching up your delicate skin. 
"You sound so pretty for me, luv. And using your manners. It's almost enough to make me wanna show you mercy." 
Your body thrummed with hopefulness, your mind going into tunnel vision at the prospect of getting off. "Daddy, please. I'll be a good girl. I won't touch myself, I won't tease you, I promise. I'll behave, Daddy, I swear it." You sobbed, soft hiccups escaping your lips. 
"Hey, hey," Tom cooed, running his hands over your skin gently, gooseflesh rising along where his fingers made their path. "You are a good girl. My good, sweet girl." You preened at his praise, letting out a shuddering sigh as he finally pushed his cock into you. "I believe you've learned your lesson, luv. Now, all you have to do is come for me." He whispered in your ear, a strangled moan brushing past your ears as he sped up his thrusts. "Think you can do that for me?" 
You cried out softly as the tip of his cock kept bullying the rough patch along the front of your walls, your climax already building back up with brutal force. "Yes, Daddy." 
"Tom." He corrected, and you grinned. 
You moaned as Tom reached around to run circles on your clit, pleasure dizzying your senses, making you lightheaded. You were right there. "Please..." You wailed. 
"Say my name when you come, sweet girl. Come for me." 
"Tom!" You chanted his name like a prayer, your velvety walls squeezing around him tightly as your orgasm washed over you in tidal waves, Tom's grip on you the only thing keeping you standing on your own two feet. 
"Fuck, baby!" Tom cursed, rutting against like a wild animal until he came with a loud grunt, almost collapsing against you until he remembered there was only a tree there that couldn't keep the both of you upright in the position you both were in. 
A calming beat until Tom broke the silence first. "I love you." 
And just like that, the skies cleared and the rain stopped. The sun shined brightly once again, the fresh smell of watered earth covering up the stench of sex and sweat. 
"We should, uh, probably be getting home, huh?" Tom smirked, putting his softening cock back inside his pants and helping you fix your dress. To anyone none the wiser, it just looked like you both were drenched with rain water. You were of course, but it mixed with sweat from exertion. "And if anyone asks, you slipped and fell because you're atrociously clumsy."
You faked offense, playfully shoving him off the sidewalk as you walked back home, an easy grin on both your faces. 
You grabbed ahold of Tom's hand, squeezing it gently before leaning to kiss his cheek, the innocent gesture making him blush harder than any sex driven act could. 
"I love you too, Tom Bennett, more than you could ever know.”
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sorry it's a bit shorter but i legit don't have time to write long fics all the time anymore. sadge. hope y'all enjoyed regardless. hashtag justice for Tom Bennett.
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deconstructthesoup · 5 months
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One thing I really liked about the Scott Pilgrim anime is that Gideon is the only one who remained evil.
Yeah, he got a depression arc, and he got a girlfriend who's scary enough to not take his shit and for him to actually respect her, but he's still evil. He still fully intended to blow up a theater to get back at someone. He got his CEO position back, and we all know that that's only an opportunity for him to be more evil. And if the end credits scene is to go off of, he's got plans.
But the other exes? They got closure. They got character development. They got to move forward. Because they honestly... weren't that bad.
Matthew Patel, who had the biggest glowup, was literally just a middle school thing. Yeah, Ramona ditched him and was kind of sucky, but it probably wouldn't have lasted anyway. And like she said, he didn't really get "evil" until high school, and by then he'd already moved.
Lucas Lee? Maybe he had some mild toxic tendencies when he and Ramona dated, but from what he saw, he was actually pretty sweet during their relationship. In the comics, he's honestly the most reasonable of the exes, deciding to actually have a chat with Scott before Scott convinces him to grind to death. And he didn't do anything to Ramona to make her break up with him---she just dumped him for Todd.
Todd Ingram, while being a little bit obsessive---and based on the comics and the anime, a compulsive cheater---didn't seem that horrible when they were dating, either, unless you count the "punch the hole in the moon" thing. He and Ramona broke up because of a long-distance thing. She went off to college, he went back to Envy. Bit of a douche? Yeah. Actively horrible to her? Not really, honestly.
Roxie Richter, our incredible half-ninja lesbian, is arguably the best out of Ramona's exes. She and Ramona had a genuinely healthy relationship, they actually got along great, and Roxie deeply cared about her... and Ramona straight-up broke her heart. When you look at it, Roxie really is the only ex who fully did nothing wrong. No erratic tendencies that caused Ramona to decide to cut her out, no behaviors that Ramona probably knew would become problematic unless she split. Roxie was sweet, she was Ramona's bi awakening... and Ramona didn't like her as much as Roxie liked her. The whole situation was just mass miscommunication, and it's totally understandable why Roxie is still bitter down the line. Unlike with the others, Ramona's fully in the wrong, which is why they need to reconcile first.
Kyle and Ken---okay, in the comics, they were amazing villains, and it's kind of a crime that they keep getting shafted, but honestly... I get it. Their relationship with Ramona wasn't actually that complicated. They were players, she played them back, they resented her for it until they got over it. Of course they're the exes that are kind of the masterminds in the anime---along with Old Scott---and of course they're the exes that are the most chill.
Gideon, on the other hand, is the only ex who can only be described as a full-on bastard. Out of all seven of the "evil" exes, Gideon's the only one who Ramona outright says was abusive. In the comics, beyond just starting the league, he controlled her and Scott's mind and straight-up imprisoned his own ex-girlfriends, fully intending to do the same to Ramona. He's also the only ex who was defeated by both Scott and Ramona, and it's the most satisfying thing to see him fully get his ass kicked. It's fully unsurprising that his backstory in the anime was that he was an incel who nobody liked, and he got dangerous once he got money.
So of course, when all of the other exes are getting cool redemption arcs, moments of self-actualization, coming-out moments, and instances of actually befriending the heroes, Gideon's the one who stays an asshole. He has a fall from grace and becomes a loser, the girl who he winds up with is also evil and thinks him being evil is hot, and at the end of the series, they're a villain power couple, emphasis on villain. Gideon learned to treat his girlfriend with respect, and probably moved on from Ramona... aaaaaaand that's it. He's still a dick. He's still an evil mastermind.
So... yeah. The Scott Pilgrim anime is great, as are the comics. Check 'em both out.
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 6 months
Text
The family you make
Azriel's week: Day 1
Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek
Word count: 1300+
You returned to the House of Wind more mentally than physically exhausted, tears stinging your eyes. You regretted the silly decision the moment you stepped into your parents' house. How could you be so naive to think things would change? After so many years that only proved that your parents wouldn't change. Never.
For them you were the biggest disappointment in their perfect lives. Whatever you did, nothing was enough, nothing was good. Your work in Library and cooperation with High Lord and inner circle? Pointless. Living in the High Lord's palace? Pathetic. Being part of his inner circle? Embarrassing. Suddenly your entire life felt like one big failure and you were drowning in it.
You were so tired and beaten by the life itself, that you weren't able to make it all the way to your room and needed to find some silent place nearby where you could put yourself together, away from prying eyes. You looked around, realising there is small family library right on your left.
Silently you entered and quickly closed the doors behind. You forced legs to take you to the one of the corners hidden behind shelves where nobody would notice you. As you dragged yourself through the room you didn't see anybody in there. The sets of armchairs and sofas were empty as well as the aisles between the shelves. You sighed in relieve. At least Mother had been merciful to you. Sitting down in the dark corner you pulled knees to chest and resting head on your arms you gave free rein to the feelings.
You didn't hear anybody to enter the library, so you startled when a deep voice came from the other side of aisle.
“Are you okay?” You couldn't see a thing because of the tears that wouldn't stop rolling down your cheeks, but you didn't even need to. You knew the voice as well as his owner. It was Azriel, the dangerously looking shadowsinger.
You became part of inner circle just recently and while others had welcomed you with open arms, he kept his distance. You still vividly remembered as he flinched when he first met you as well as his piercing gaze that followed you for the rest of that day. It was quite uncomfortable, making you feel naked in public. Even now you sometimes sensed his eyes being glued to your back causing unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. Only good point was he had never been mean to you, but he wasn't friendly either.
“I'm fine,” you managed to breath out between sobs, still hiding face in sleeves. Azriel huffed.
“If you insist,” was the only thing he said, but you could hear the sound of his boots getting closer to you. You tried to stifle sobs, but he certainly still heard them anyway. Wings rustled as he sat down in front of you. “Something happened when you went to visit your parents earlier?” Surprised, you looked up at him through tears.
“How do you know where I went?” He shrugged shoulders as if to say that the answer is clear. Another wave of tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered all the insults parents told you today.
“Sometimes people we are bond to by blood aren't the best of the family,” he said, his voice much softer than you had ever heard him to use.
“They are the only family I have,” you opposed. A lump rose in your throat as sadness consumed your inside.
“You are wrong,” he simply said.
Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He measured you from head to toe with unreadable expression.
“We are your family or at least can be one if you let us.” His hazel eyes with gold flecks wandered around your face, searching for answer on unspoken question. You were too tired and felt so bad, you really didn't get what he was telling you at first. You shook your head in frustration. Corners of his perfect mouth lifted up in hardly-there smirk.
“Rhys and Cassian already consider you their little sister. Mor and Feyre like you, too. I'd dare to say even Amren kind of likes you in her own way.��
Any other day these words would make you happy, but today wasn't that day. For some reason it hurt you even more. His words were like salt to your widely open wound and you broke down. Azriel made a restless noise and his wings rustled while shadows whirled around you, caressing your back and arms. He hesitantly reached out and his big warm hand landed on your head, gently patting it.
“They really do?” you sobbed.
”Yeah.”
“And what about you?” He stiffened. “You don't want me around you and your family.” You felt bad for what you said as soon as the words left your mouth. It was a blow below the belt, especially when he was trying so hard to be nice.
He thought about it for a second, silence stretching between you. "I like you too," he muttered reluctantly at last, his voice slightly shook on word 'like'.
"Liar," you laughed through tear, but there wasn't any joy in it.
"I'm honest. You are my family," Azriel stated, his voice flat of any emotions. "Maybe I can't show it as easily as others, but I do think so. Really." His eyes seemed to be earnest, but his body was sending the opposite signals. You just nodded, blush spreading on your face. Even though it was confusing, something in his statement put on a spark in your chest and you felt a bit better.
"Thank you," you muttered. One corner of his mouth lifted up forming a lovely dimple in his cheek, his hand slipped down to your shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly.
"Anytime," he mumbled. "I'm here for you." He watched you for a while with lips pressed into a tiny line. "Should I leave you alone?" he asked hesitantly.
You shook head. "I mean if you don't mind, but you probably have some work to do." You wanted to add that he always seemed to be busy, but you didn't. Azriel just nodded in answer.
And so you sat there in quite comfortable silence. Your sobs gradually calmed down, but he continued to rub your arm in soothing circles.
Suddenly doors opened and you could hear heavy steps. "Y/N, you in there?" Cassian called into the room. Azriel looked into your wide eyes and nodded once in understanding. Then he swiftly stood up and peeked from the aisle.
"She isn't here," he answered seemingly bored. "Do you need something from her?"
Although you couldn't see Cassian, you could imagine how his brows furrowed now.
"Not really. Y/N went to her parents, but she should be already back. She's always depressed after that, so I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
"I see," Azriel said without interest. "Did you try her room?"
"Yeah, I did, but she isn't there. Books are quite her comfort, so I thought she might be in here. Never mind. I'm going to ask Clotho if she has seen her." And with that Cassian left.
Azriel waited few moments before he returned to you. "You okay?" he asked sitting back down.
"Thanks," you nodded. Once Rhysand told you that even though it didn't look like that, when it comes to family, Azriel is very caring and protective type. Now you wondered if this was also his way of taking care of family. As you were thinking about it, something warm raised in your chest.
You wiped your tears on the sleeve. "I guess I should go clean myself. Cassian is already worried enough. He doesn't need to see me like this."
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Azriel cocked head to the side, watching you carefully.
"I feel much better thanks to you. I'm really grateful," you gave him small smile.
Shadowsinger just nodded, helping you stand up. Then he stepped aside, so you could pass him.
Before you turned the corner you looked back at him once again, but he was already searching the shelves with books. "Thank you," you whispered and left.
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lolasimms · 1 year
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a lots gonna change pt.4
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Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues and things change.
next chapter
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Your home felt lighter with the presence of your sister. She'd spent the better part of her visit getting her niece to warm up to her. The crisp spring weather allowed for the four of you to indulge in picnics, spend time at the beach and shop at different farmers markets.
Lila had taken an instant liking to your sister, and you were glad to see the two get along. While Nara was here, you're sure she attended at least 15 tea parties over the course of two weeks, who's to say she didn't enjoy them, after all she loved the role of Aunt.When the day came, you were sad to see her go, but nobody expected the outburst Lila was to cause when she caught wind of her aunts departure. She whined and whined, which made Nara feel guilty but you quickly promised that she'd be able to visit her soon enough. As a treat, Ellie agreed that Lila come with her to the airport to see off her aunt, and to your surprise she was happy with the compromise.
-
The house felt hollow without the extra presence of your sister, making you feel somewhat sad. The days following her departure felt like the feeling when you'd return from a vacation, and long to go back, home not feeling like it usually did. Except the vacation in question was Nara. You missed your sister dearly and the quietness of the house wasn't helping.
It was now 12 in the afternoon and you were sat on one of the bar stools, eating away at a tasteless bowl of soggy oats. Ellie had set out for an early workout around 8, so she would be back anytime now. You were surprised however, when you hadn't heard any noise from your daughter, which was weird, as she was usually up before you on most mornings. You shrug it off, thinking maybe it's just the hard work and play from preschool that's got her burnt out, after all she was still settling into the routine of consistently attending school. You gaze outside the window, that grants you access to the backyard and smile once you notice your cherry trees had begun to bloom. You'd make a reminder to show Lila once she'd awoken.
You're scrolling on your phone, looking through emails when you are startled by a set of hands grabbing at your waist and the loud sound of ...
"Boo!" Ellie laughs as you shriek loudly in fear.
"What the fuck, was that for" you groan as you clutch your chest , the rate of your heartbeat increasing from the sudden rush of adrenaline.
"I'm sorry baby it was the perfect moment, I had too" she laughs, bringing her head down to kiss you. You accept it and then pull back taking a look at her. Her hair is damp with sweat, and her face is flushed red.
"Whatever, I'll only forgive you cause you look really good right now" you roll your eyes at her as she gives you the biggest smirk.
"Really, you like me all hot and sweaty?" She's returned to kissing you, while also speaking into your mouth, which leaves you all hot and bothered.
"Yeah" you squeak, causing her to laugh at how much of an effect she has on you post workout.
"Where's Lila?" She questions, as she moves to the fridge, and reaches for the water pitcher.
"I think she's still sleeping"
"Really, she's usually up at like 6, that's not like her" she lifts the glass up to her mouth, her eyebrows remain raised.
"That's true, I should probably go check on her" you make your way off of the bar stool and rush up the stairs to Lila's room.
-
You open the door and hear her whispering, letting you know that she's awake. You enter, expecting her to stand from her crib and call out to you but instead, she stays lying down and you can faintly hear her gurgling.
"Lila?" You ask as you walk towards her crib. Lila turns her little face towards you, and you're immediately filled with worry. Her face is red and she's breathing heavily while small tears drip down her cheeks.
"Baby?" You rush to pick her up. Your baby's skin is burning hot, and you can tell she's got a fever.
You go into to Lila's bathroom as fast as you can in search of a wash cloth. Once you've found it you wet the cloth with cool water and dart back to the crib to wash your daughter's face with it. She murmurs quietly, but doesn't fight off the cloth, nor does she pull it to her face.
Pity swells deep in your belly as you watch your daughter tiredly yawn. Lila is usually picky with water, she either loves it or she hates it. So seeing such a neutral reaction from her is odd, this isn't like her at all.
You finish wiping her face, and she is coated in sweat. Her breathing is still ragged and she continuously takes deep breaths, fighting for air and that's the final straw for you.
Despite the weight of your daughter, you quickly make your way down the stairs, to the kitchen where Ellie is stood, looking down at the stove. "Baby!" you call out to her.
She lurches forward at the sound of your panicked voice and turns. "What's wrong y/n?" She asks, shocked. "What's wrong?" She asks, again, rushing over to you as you make your way towards her, with your sickly child in your arms.
"It's Lila," you say, trying to keep the stress out of your voice. "She's really feverish, sweaty, she seems to be in pain, she's struggling to breathe..."you say as you look down at her.
Her face goes ashen. "Let me see her," she says, already reaching out her toned arms.
Lila whines as you hand her over to Ellie and she takes her in her arms. She rubs a hand across her forehead. Her eyebrows creasing.
"I'm going to make a doctor's appointment" she sighs.
-
Lila's paediatrician came to the conclusion that it was just a common cold, and her breathing would be compromised because of some nasal damage she had endured during her birth. Both you and Ellie were instructed to keep watch on her and ensure she was medicated every few hours. You found that your daughter was extremely irritable when sick, refusing to let you or Ellie engage in any activities that did not include giving her attention. Unfortunately for her, the weekend was coming to an end meaning you'd be returning to work the next day.
"Sleep with momma ?" Lila asks Ellie as she carry's her up the stairs. Her head rests on her shoulder, giving you a view of your daughter's tired face, as you follow behind them.
"No baby, you've got to sleep in your crib and be a big girl" as soon as the words leave her mouth, she begins to whine. You couldn't wait until this sickness passed so her clinginess would stop. Ellie sighs and begins to rub her back, just as you make it to the top of the staircase.
"Fine, you'll sleep with us, baby. Don't cry" she gives in to her and she tiredly smiles over her shoulder. You make it into the bedroom, and Ellie changes her into a comfortable set of pyjamas whilst you slip into your night gown.
The three of you sleep together throughout the night, keeping your child calm and soothed whenever she'd cough, sneeze or heave. Lila's tears eventually fade, and she relaxes between the two of you, drifting into a restless sleep.
Ellie's eyes nearly gleam pure green in the dark of the room, as she lifts her head to look you in the eyes. "I... she begins. "I never knew it was possible to love someone this much" she whispers, so as to keep Lila from waking up. "I adore her so much, she's...she's the best thing to have ever happened to me, aside from you."
She reaches out to stroke Lila's face, and her sleeping form nuzzles into her. "I'm so lucky, so so lucky, to have the two of you in my life." She gives the statement, a pang of guilt surges throughout her body, seeing the irony behind her claims.
You smile at her and speak. "M-me too..."
"I never knew it was possible to love someone as strongly as I do you and her," you whisper, as you press your cheek against her hand. She strokes your skin with her thumb before letting go and smiling at you.
"I love you, so much" she whispers gently"
"I love you more" you reply, slowly shutting your eyes and holding a protective arm over your daughter that reaches Ellie. She takes your hand and you fall asleep this way.
Once you're beaten by sleep, Ellie slowly treks down the staircase and retreats to the outdoor patio. Your words cause guilt to spread within her, making her feel like a piece of shit. She was selfish and she knew it, the only thing that let her sleep most nights was denial, denial that what she was doing was wrong. She knew it was time. She had finally decided that tonight she would cut all ties with her. Her, the other woman that is. She contemplates on whether or not she wants to do it, looking down at the contact name with a sickness. The look on your face as you confessed your love and dedication to both her and her child pops into her mind and she finally presses dial.
"Ellie?" Her voice rings through her ears, she can tell she had been sleeping.
"Hi, I- we need to talk"
"Oh- ok... I?" she rambles on, and she can't help but feel even more guilty. She was destroying two lives and it never registered to her that Amelia too had feelings.
"Look, this needs to end, for real this time." Ellie finally lets the words come out of her mouth.
"You said that last time, and still fucked me the next day" she laughs, not taking her words to be serious.
"No, I - I mean it this time. I have a kid and a wife, who I very much love."
"If you really loved her, you wouldn't have cheated on her for what... 5 months straight?" She's being a smart ass, as she knows it will get to her.
"I don't care ok, I'm done. I realised now that this was a huge mistake, I love her and my daughter and I can't keep being selfish, we're done. I don't want us to be on bad terms, if you want some money I'll give it to you, whatever you want just leave my family alone" the silence is deafening and she sits their waiting for a reply from her.
"Fine. But just so you know Ellie, you're making a big mistake." She scoffs and ends the call immediately. Deleting her contact off of her phone and shakes her head, who did she think she was to threaten her? Although she's angry she also feels like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders, and she can now be the mother and wife both you and Lila deserve. Her affair was just a minor bump in the road, nobody needed to know about it. It was a secret she would have to carry to her grave.
She returns to the bedroom to find Lila fast asleep, with her hands gripping your nightgown, she slowly shuts the door behind her and makes her way to the bed. She sets herself down slowly, as to not wake the both of you up but you are risen from your sleep when you hear the rustling of the comforter.
"Honey?" You question tiredly as you squint, trying to make of her shadowed figure.
"Shhh, go back to bed baby" she whispers, while sweetly stroking your shoulders and you obey.
-
"She'll be fine, just go or you'll be late to work" Ellie is-currently shooing you from the house, as you're reluctant on whether or not you should call off work for Lila's sake. She assures you that she'll be fine and you finally give in and make your way out the door.
-
"It's very interesting, it's so good to have someone so passionate on this topic to talk to, all my friends think I'm a bore" Abby says, as the both of you chat away in your office.
"I 100% agree, my partner previously worked in this field but now she thinks it's a mundane line of work, which to me is quite offensive" you say, making sure to mock Ellie's voice at just the right pitch.
"You're kidding?" She feigns shocked.
"No I swear, she said it was boring. Which is why she switched to pursuing law, she always been good at arguments."
"She sounds pretentious" she says, with a smile.
"Oh she is, but in the best way possible" you say, a smile on your face just thinking about your wife.
Abby hums and the two of you are interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, the vibrations coming from inside your desks draw compartment. You apologise to Abby for the interruption and pull your phone out to check on who was calling.
Incoming call, Ellie
"Speaking of the devil, she's calling right now, excuse me for a sec" she silently nods, at your request and you answer the call.
"Everything okay honey?"
"No, Lila won't stop crying, she says she wants you" she sounds exhausted and you can hear the sounds of your child crying in the background.
"Babe, I can't leave work right now" you retort, smiling at Abby as she looks at you with raised eyebrows, her way of teasing.
"So what do I do, she won't stop?" Ellie sounds desperate and you wish dearly to put her out of her misery, but you couldn't leave work, it was only your second week back and you wanted to make up for the year you had spent away.
"Why don't you bring her here, come for a little visit. It's almost my lunch break anyways" she sighs and agrees, and you're happy to come to a conclusion that benefits all.
"Everything okay?" Abby asks as you set your phone down on the desk.
"Yeah, just my kid. She's been sick recently and she wants to see me. Her moms going to bring her over... probably spend my lunch break with them" she gives a strange pout and you smile at her, confused.
"What's the pout for?" You question, bringing your hands to sit under your chin.
"We always spend lunch break together" you swallow at that, was she trying to flirt with you?
"Oh my god" you shake your head at her silliness.
"What? It's true. How could you put your daughter over me?" She pretends to act offended, which only makes you laugh.
"Your funny, plus I would never put my daughter over you, what kind of mother would that make me?" You play along with her joke and she can't help but smile bashfully at you.
-
Abby decided to leave you to complete some work, and you were certainly relieved when she made her way out of your office. Sure she was nice, but you couldn't help but feel like she was getting a tad bit too friendly. She knew you were in a relationship right? It's not like you hadn't brought up the fact that you had a wife and a child more than once, so why did she feel comfortable just openly flirting with you?
The sound of your desk phone rings and you reach for it and answer.
"Ms. Y/ln, speaking how can I help you?"
"Y/n, this is Uyen, your wife is here requesting to see you, should I let her up?"
"Ofcourse"
-
Your office door opens, and in comes Ellie, with a tired looking Lila sat in her arms, her other hand carries a bag of what you were assuming was takeout.
"Mommy" Lila reaches out to you and you happily walk over to Ellie and take her into your arms. You kiss her temple and lean forward towards Ellie. She meets you halfway for a brief kiss and then proceeds to kiss your temple.
"I got you lunch, figured it would be easier than leaving" she says as she places the brown paper bag on the coffee table.
"Thanks honey, how's her fever?" You ask as you sit down on the couch and press your hands on Lila's neck and forehead.
"Fevers going down but her nose is still blocked"
"Poor thing" you say, looking down at your daughter who's head is tucked into your chest. Ellie makes quick work at opening the paper bag and handing you three different boxes of food.
"Stir fry?" You question.
"And spring rolls and dumplings and a fortune cookie" she smiles, knowing these were your favourites.
"I could kiss you right now!" You exclaim.
"Please do" she smirks, before setting the wooden cutlery down and leaning in for a kiss, you lean towards her to grant her her wish. Lila whines again and you roll your eyes at her theatrics.
"Can I put you down on the armchair, so I can eat?" You question and she shakes he head, no.
"So I can't eat my lunch?" You feign shocked at the drama she's putting on display.
"Stay with mommy" she holds onto you tighter and you sigh. You'd be eating lunch with a toddler in your lap and there was nothing you could do about it.
"Lila give mommy a break" Ellie says and she simply looks at her and musters the best eye roll she can. Both you and Ellie are amazed at her attitude and can't help but laugh.
"Where did she learn that?" She asks, her eyes wide and bewildered by her daughters newfound display of attitude.
"I don't even know" you laugh, then cover your mouth. This wasn't the kind of behaviour you would want her to think was okay, but you'd let it slide only because she was sick and easily irritable. You continue eating, occasionally feeding Lila, whenever she'd allow you to. You take a sip of your bottled water, when there's a knock at your office door.
"Am I interrupting?" Abby asks as she walks into the office, with a grin on her face.
"Oh of-course not Abby, have a seat" you say, slightly glancing to Ellie who is seated next to you, expressionless. Abby sits on the armchair opposite the couch and smiles at Ellie.
"This is my wife, Ellie and this is my very grumpy daughter, Lila" you lift Lila's hands and wave to Abby. She irritably brings it back down and nuzzles deeper into you.
"Nice to meet you Ellie, and Lila, she's very cute" you whisper a small thank you. And Ellie finally breaks her silence.
"Nice to meet you to Abby" she says and Abby nods at her.
"I didn't want to break our tradition so I figured I'd bring you a cupcake from the cafe" Abby holds out the clear box and you delightfully accept the treat.
"Oh, thank-you, I was craving one of these all day" you inspect the cupcake and place it on the coffee table.
"What's your tradition?" Ellie interrupts, looking from you to Abby.
"Oh y/n and I spend our lunch breaks together, at the cafe downstairs, they've got great food" Abby says and Ellie nods.
"We'll, just thought I'd deliver the treat to you myself. But I should get going, wouldn't want to interrupt family time" she stands up and shakes Ellie's hand and then makes her way over to you, leaving a kiss on your cheek. If you could, you're sure you would be blushing from embarrassment. Abby leaves the office and Ellie's fists are clenched.
"I don't like her" she mutters, turning to look at you.
"Ellie, I-" you're cut off before you can even complete your sentence.
"Who the fuck is she to be bringing you TrEaTs" she mocks Abby's voice.
"Are you seriously mad?" You're laughing now, the fact that she found there to be any competition between herself and Abby was humorous to you.
"Yes and the kiss on the cheek, really?"  You shift Lila in your laps and continue looking at Ellie.
"Everyone does that it's etiquette"
"Fuck etiquette, this isn't France" you can't help but laugh at her clever joke.
"Enough of that, can we just enjoy the rest of our lunch break in peace? As a family" you make sure to add in the last part as you know it will coax her well enough to drop the subject of Abby.
"Fine" she mumbles, trying to suppress a smile. You shake your head at her pettiness and reach for your fortune cookie.
"Okay fortune cookie time, but remember we can't tell each other okay?" She reaches for her cookie and nods.
'Your road to glory will be rocky, but fulfilling'
"Oooo mine is really good, what about yours baby?" You question as you scrunch your fortune and make a mental note to remember it. Ellie opens her cookie and proceeds to read her fortune.
'A guilty conscience, needs no accuser'
taglist;
@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup
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mslanna · 24 days
Note
Can I ask for Raphael having a 'Wait, why am I jealous?' realization of his romantic feelings for Tav? (For the record, Tav is romantically interested in him, too, because I can't handle angst right now 🥲)
Ask and you shall receive. 🥰
Served Cold
(Served Cold on AO3) enby Tav without body configuration cold and comfort hot devil is hot Karlach cameo
Conquering all nine hells was a lot of work for one devil. Even with his armies and followers, Raphael had few subordinates he trusted. So asking Tav to join had been only logical. After all, they had delivered the Crown of Karsus to him willingly.
He had been right, too, as Tav greed easily to his request. They helped him conquer the hells and he, well, there was a certain uncertainty about his part of the deal. Just make sure I don't die seemed like a sensible request. It was not much of a prize, though. The exchange seemed barely equal.
But he wouldn't look a gift Tav in the mouth. It was also to be expected that Tav would enlist the help of their friends. The tiefling should not have been a surprise, especially since she could not return to the material plane with her hellfire heart.
It wasn't that he didn't trust his human to get the job done, despite the biting cold of Cania and the wide icy plains. But this was his father's domain. Mephistopheles knew he was coming for him and his security was increased.
Tav was smart for taking the circumspect route to his palace even if that meant several weeks of trekking through the cold. The entrance wasn't secret as much as unexpected. A place as big as Mephistopheles court had a whole system of venues to accept or remove wares and services. A place as old as his father's had also gone through several system changes. Dead ends happened.
And Tav knew how to talk to servants and debtors. As a paladin they exuded and air of trustworthiness. The time they spent undercover in his father's realm had not gone by easily. Raphael had worried every day. So much of his plans rested on Tav's success.
But they succeed as he knew they would. Tav was reliable, more so than many of his subordinates. Subordinates who were making a lot of noise under the command of Yurgir right now. Mainly to keep Mephistopheles attention on them and allow the small group to slip in through a discarded and ignored back entrance that should have been decommissioned and closed centuries ago.
Raphael considered standing with the armies. But the prospect of seeing the expression on his father's face when he turned up in the centre of his secure home was a strong argument for travelling with Tav.
He was accustomed to the burning cold of Cania. The storms of blade-like winds and freezing snow were inconvenient but manageable. The tiefling was doing fine with her hellfire heart as well. It kept her warm under the layers upon layers of clothes.
Tav on the other hand suffered miserably. It didn't matter how many layers they put on, the result was a shivering heap of furs that moved slowly through the cold landscape. The view was pitiful, but Tav didn't complain once. Their dedication to his cause was admirable. And when nobody watched, not even his own inner devil, Raphael allowed himself to admire them.
Not now, of course, as the human sat huddled up like a shrimp at the small fire. They shook violently and stuck their hands almost into the flames. If he didn't know better, Raphael would have thought them a blemish, worth no note. His thought were of a very different nature though.
There had to be a way to help Tav. It was not the most devil-like thought but it was well founded. Tav was a valuable asset, a tool well worth protecting. It was only natural that he considered his options to keep them at peak performance.
The problem was how to get warmth to his mouse without attracting attention. A bigger fire was out of the question. That left very limited options. But, for the success of his campaign, he was willing to make sacrifices. Even personal ones.
He was still mulling over the best way to phrase his idea so it would not appear to be personal, when Karlach moved. She rounded the fire and came to sit next to Tav, worry engraved on her face.
"You'll catch your death, soldier." The tiefling nudged Tav who moved towards her unthinking. Drawn to the warmth, no doubt. "Yeah, that's more like it. Gods, you're cold."
Despite her words, Karlach wrapped Tav into their cloak. And his little mouse, leant into it. Raphael took a deep breath. The way Tav softened and their body slowly ceased to shudder. It was a good thing. There was no reason for him to be mad about it.
Yet the anger simmered in his stomach, bitter and bubbling. That had been his offer to make. A sacrifice for the greater good. Yet the tiefling offered it as if it was nothing, a small act of friendship and care. He should be grateful for that. His dignity stayed intact.
But his dignity was not rumbling dangerously low in his chest. To think that it could have been his arm around Tav's shoulders, his arm they leant against, grateful and content. The fury surprised him, as did the pain. What did it matter who kept Tav warm?
But it did matter, and it mattered that it wasn't him. Raphael carefully avoided putting a name on the rage. The last thing he needed now was complications. The fight against his father was difficult enough without worrying – uselessly – about one fragile mortal.
It was not worry he felt, looking at Tav who dozed off in the sudden warmth. Trenches dug by the cold over the last days softened. Their mouth relaxed and opened slightly. They looked at peace. Peace he should be giving them.
"If it proves too much of a strain on your infernal engine, let me know." Raphael was proud of the nonchalance of his tone. "I am willing to carry my share of the burden."
"Tav is never a burden." Despite her cheery tone, the threat in Karlach's voice was clear. "And I'd rather freeze to death with them than burden you with them."
Raphael sat back. "If this is how you treat offers of help-"
"If you want to offer help, offer help. Don’t style yourself as a martyr for the most minuscule act of decency."
Looking at his little mouse – eyes closed, breath soft and regular – Raphael wondered if they were indeed asleep. What would Tav think, listening in on this conversation? And what did it matter to him? He was a devil! He did not care what mortals though of him.
Except for Tav.
The realisation was uncomfortable and unwanted. It was true nevertheless.
"Don't mind him," Tav murmured, adjusting their position against the tiefling. "He's just jealous."
Jealous. The word stunned Raphael. He was not jealous. He was a devil! He stared at the lips that uttered such blasphemy. Lips that were once again of a soft pink instead of pale blue. He had a pretty good idea what he'd like to do to them, traitorous, insolent lips.
Unfortunately, his ideas supported Tav's claim. Ridiculous. They were an asset. A tool for his victory. Nothing more.
Yet.
"Well." Karlach pulled Tav closer. "Even jealous devils have to behave themselves. Maybe a 'please' wouldn't go amiss."
"If you think I will beg, you are severely mistaken," Raphael huffed and folded his wings closer around him.
"Do as you please. But I don't think Tav is a burden and I know how it feels to have them breathe down my skin when they sleep – and drool a little." The tiefling dropped a sloppy kiss onto Tav's forehead.
"Devils are not to be drooled upon."
"I'm sure you can make them lick it off again." The tiefling delighted in teasing him.
Still Raphael could not deny the appeal of the vision her words conjured. "Oh, hand them over already." He gestured impatiently.
To his surprise the tiefling actually obeyed. "You know I will kill you, if you hurt them," she smiled as she draped the mortal against his side.
Raphael snorted. "I'd like to see you try."
"I don't," Tav murmured and turned to press their face into his arm.
A surprisingly efficient argument. Raphael dragged his little mouse into a comfortable position, resting their head against his chest and wrapping them both in his wings. At least tiefling couldn't see his face any longer that way.
"You are mine," he murmured into Tav's rear. "Mine alone and don't you forget it."
"Jealous," they replied sleepy, but with a smile touching their lips. "I like it."
Raphael growled and dropped kiss onto their head as he had seen Karlach do. What an insolent little creature he held. It would be impossible to pry them from his grip.
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Loyalty
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Summary: Izzy Hands has always been loyal, always needed somewhere to place that loyalty, even the crew of the Revenge knew that and could respect it to some extent. Only...they didn't think it was possible for him to be more loyalty to somebody that wasn't Blackbeard. At least...until you come back.
Word Count: 8331
“First mate Hands! Three vessels approaching,” Buttons called from up on the quarterdeck. He didn’t turn to look for the first mate, or anyone else for that matter, he just stared out at the open ocean and the three specks in the distance that were approaching in a V formation.
“Fuck,” Izzy strode over to his side and pulled out his spyglass to get a good luck at the approaching fleet. Three vessels. Three of them. There was no way the Revenge and her crew could take them on, he hoped the winds were right to flee.
All worries of fleeing or fighting left Izzy, leaving him cold and in shock. The flags raised on the three ships were familiar, causing an aching in his chest. A distinct flag he never thought anyone would see again and, somehow, he knew that nobody else had come across the design and claimed it for themselves. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, he just knew. The way Edward always knew how the weather would turn. He felt it in his goddamned bones, in his very being.
“Fuck…” Izzy’s curse came out weaker this time, breathier.
“Orders?” Buttons asked, not seeming perturbed in any way by Izzy’s reaction. Maybe he just didn’t notice. Izzy hoped he didn’t notice.
“Drop anchor, raise Blackbeard’s flag…and prepare to let them board,” Izzy ordered stiffly.
As if from nowhere, the fucking scribe appeared, always showing up at the worst times. “We’re letting them board?” he asked, both insubordinate and concerned. Where did the little shit even come from? “Shouldn’t we, like…be moving in the other direction, very fast?”
“Nobody fucking asked you,” Izzy snarled. “Just do as I said, I’ll deal with the captains,” he didn’t give them any time to argue with him, already leaving.
“You’re really going to do what he said?” Lucius asked, turning to Buttons. He could smack himself, looking to Buttons of all people for some sensible behaviour.
“Aye, they are the orders,” Buttons nodded. That was that.
“Oh my God, we’re going to die,” Lucius whispered to himself, frowning at the three dots in the distance.
-
Izzy knocked on the door to the captain’s cabin and waited for some muffled shout to be invited in. He already knew this was going to be tricky, so he entered as formally as he could, not looking to cause problems. Not this time. He closed the door and stood in front of the couch where the two captains sat.
“There is a fleet approaching, three ships, we’re preparing to let them board,” Izzy reported.
“Let them board?” Bonnet asked, eyes wide and curious.
“Why the fuck are we doing that?” Edward asked lowly, at least giving Izzy a chance to offer a reasonable explanation.
“It’s Captain L/n,” Izzy told him. Bonnet blinked, wondering if that should mean something to either of them.
Clearly, it meant something to Edward because he tensed a little, glaring at Izzy now. “...so you went above my head?”
“They aren’t here for a fight. We’ve raised Blackbeard’s flag, they’ll know who we are. They aren’t going to raid us,” Izzy reasoned.
“If they’re here, they’re here for us. It’s not a mistake,” Edward agreed with that at least. 
Izzy just nodded, letting Ed believe whatever he wanted to believe. Izzy already knew why you were here, there was only one thing you would come for.
“You know each other?” Stede asked.
Izzy felt the need to roll his eyes but hold himself back. “We used to sail together,” he answered instead before insisting, “they aren’t going to attack us.”
Edward huffed, throwing himself back in his seat. “Fine, whatever. Let us know when they’re preparing to board,” he dismissed the first mate.
“Aye, Captain,” Izzy nodded, taking his leave without complaint nor hesitation.
“Is everything alright?” Stede asked Edward carefully.
“The crew will be fine,” Edward promised, putting those worries to rest. “Haven’t seen L/n in years, they got into some trouble a while back and disappeared. Looks like they got themselves a fleet together, though…”
-
The largest ship in the fleet expertly pulled up along the side of the Revenge and dropped anchor. The crew of the Revenge watched, antsy and curious, as the other ship’s crew prepared the gangplank.
Edward and Stede had come up onto the deck to overwatch the crew and to greet the boarding crew. Izzy stood by Edward’s side, trying not to fidget or bounce his leg in anticipation.
On the deck of the other ship they could see the crew thrumming about, securing the ship, preparing. Izzy’s gaze wandered to the helm, heart skipping a beat when he saw the familiar figure speaking with a member of their crew.
Izzy could already feel the excitement bubbling in his chest.
Once the gangplank was secured, the other crew’s first mate and a gunner crossed over to the Revenge, introducing themselves curtly before glancing over their deck.
“Is Israel Hands here or are we wasting our time?” the first mate asked.
Immediately, the crew of the Revenge was looking at Izzy.
“Fucking hell,” Izzy muttered to himself. “They send you over as a threat?” he asked, unamused.
The first mate looked him up and down. “Yeah, you match the description,” they nodded. “The crew understands?”
“They’ll behave,” Izzy sighed.
The first mate nodded to the gunner, and the gunner returned to their ship. During the wait, Izzy could still feel the eyes on him, and could feel the unasked questions from the crew.
It must have been only a minute at most but, for Izzy, it felt like hours, before you were crossing over the gangplank. Hopping down onto the deck of the Revenge with practised grace.
“Too cowardly to board first?” Edward asked accusingly.
“Too busy to sit through small talk if Israel wasn’t here. I don’t like wasting my time,” you rolled your eyes, not rising to whatever fight he wanted.
Then, in an instant, all of your attention was focused on Izzy. He was older now, of course, as were you, but you would recognise him anywhere. He was looking at you the same way he used to, devoted and adoring, like you were the only other person standing on the crowded deck.
It was too much for him, seeing you, having you look at him like that.
You always could read Izzy well, you would consider yourself fluent in Israel Hands, and you could tell that he was practically shaking to hold himself back, to keep himself composed. You wouldn’t make him wait any longer, you weren’t cruel.
“Oh, Israel, I’ve missed you,” you strode over to him confidently, quick to wrap your arms around him.
Izzy returned the embrace like it was second nature, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, practically melting against you. You couldn’t help yourself, having to run a hand over his hair before forcing yourself to pull away and release him.
Well, you released him for the most part. Your hands remained against his upper arms. “I’ve been away for too long,” you observed but both of you were already well aware of that.
“Where have you been?” Izzy asked, the only thing he could think to say. You had been assumed…dead, disappearing without a trace. Yet here you stood, very much alive. Older than he last saw you but perfectly recognisable to his eye.
“You know about how the navy got a little too close, had to lay low for a while. Got a new crew together, started operating in different waters, took years for everything to cool down but once I got word, I sailed right over here,” you explained, not aiming to make him wait for such an important answer. “Sought out Jackie, of course, she knows everything. Found the Anne but you weren’t there, got into a boring conversation with the quartermaster. Wasn’t making the same mistake once I tracked down the Revenge.”
Izzy seemed to think your story over, trying to figure out whether you were telling the truth or not. You had never lied to him before but you understand that disappearing for years can damage somebody’s trust in you. If his trust in you had faded, you’d make sure to earn it back.
Izzy thought over the details, he supposed they made sense. There technically hadn’t been any proof of your death, just rumours, and the British had continued their search for you after your supposed death. You always had been clever, able to get out of difficult situations. And you were always careful, wouldn’t have risked the lives of your crew by returning too early to the Caribbean.
Izzy gave a slight nod, assuring you that he believed you. That he was glad you were back.
The sound of shifting beside you reminded you that you weren’t as alone as you would have liked to be.
“Alright. I suppose I should speak with the captains of this vessel,” you addressed it to Izzy, not anybody else. Like nobody else mattered.
“If you must,” Izzy mumbled, filling you with a feeling of fondness.
With a hand against Izzy’s back, you turned to the two captains, Izzy following your movements like it was just a natural thing for him to do.
“Sorry to invite myself over but I’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” you promised the two of them, only one of them familiar to you.
“Izzy makes it sound like you and he were friends and you know Edward…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you stayed for a little while. Got reacquainted,” Bonnet, you assumed he was, offered.
You looked at Izzy questioningly. “He’s being serious,” he told you with a sigh.
“The Gentleman Pirate,” you nodded in understanding and Stede preened under the recognition. You considered it for a moment before nodding, “I can’t stay long, I have business to attend to, but it would be rude to turn down your offer.”
“Wonderful!” Stede clapped his hands together, though Edwarded looked decidedly less happy about it.
“I’ll let the crew know we’ll be anchored for a little longer than planned,” you announced before turning to Izzy. That’s when the crew really noticed it, the way your gaze locked in and softened as soon as it turned on to Izzy. “Israel, do you have a cabin?” you asked.
“Yes. I’m the first mate,” Izzy answered, as if it was obvious, but not with the irritation he would if one of the crew had asked such a stupid question.
“Good,” you nodded before shrugging, smiling at him. “Though you’ll be staying in my cabin, of course.” The way you said it wasn’t demanding, just as though it was a given.
The captains would sleep in their cabin, Jim and Olu would sleep in their room, Lucius would sleep between Pete and Fang, the crew would sleep under the stars, and Izzy would be staying with you in your cabin. That’s just the way things were.
Izzy just nodded, relaxing at the idea of being welcome in your cabin once again.
“First mate needs to stay aboard the ship,” Edward commanded. In all fairness, it was a fair demand to have.
“We’ll stay anchored, don’t you worry. I’ll even leave a couple crew members over here if it makes you feel better. But Israel will be staying with me,” you really didn’t think Edward was asking too much, just for some security that you would kidnap his first mate, but you made sure he knew that you weren’t asking him.
“Izzy,” Edward looked to his first mate then, expecting him to agree with him.
“I’ll be fine, Edward,” Izzy promised him.
Edward opened his mouth to argue but no words came out, he looked stunned. You decided that was enough of a confirmation for you. 
The crew just watched, feeling dumbfounded, as you spoke quietly against Izzy’s ear and guided him over the gangplank and onto your ship. Watched how your hand sat against his lower back, thumb stroking up and down against his leather waistcoat. Watched how easily Izzy let you lead him.
Once you crossed over to your ship, you quickly announced to the crew that you would be sticking around for a little while. Your crew just nodded, accepting the small change in plans, and starting preparing for their stay.
With your crew up to date and content, you led Izzy to your cabin. As soon as he was through the threshold and the door had clicked shut behind him, Izzy felt himself relaxing completely.
“I thought you were dead,” Izzy heard his voice before he even realised he was speaking. It was quiet and water.
“Oh, sweetie,” you were in front of him in an instant, his face cradled in your hands. “I won’t lie, it was a close call for a while, but I’m here and I’m perfectly fine. Better than ever, actually. Went from one ship to three…just one thing missing, the very thing I’ve been tracking down since I returned to the Caribbean.”
“And what’s that?” he asked quietly, desperately. He needed to hear it.
“Oh, please, you just like to hear me say it,” you accused fondly before your expression softened completely, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You, baby.”
Clearly, that was the right answer, because Izzy all but threw himself into your arms. Clinging to you.
“I’ve got you, sweet thing, and this time I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, carding fingers through his hair.
“You’ll have to leave, you have a fleet…responsibilities…” Izzy mumbled into your shoulder.
You paused for a moment, earning a displeased sound from the man in your arms. “It really has been a long time, I didn’t realise I had to ask,” you whispered, prying him off of you as gently as you could but you needed him to look you in the eyes for this. “I want you to come with me, Iz. Will you come with me? Will you come home?”
Izzy felt like he was floating, glowing. He felt warm. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” and everything about the way he looked at you told you that he meant it.
You smiled, kissing his temple before guiding him back into your embrace. It was good to have him back in his arms.
“Edward won’t be happy,” Izzy warned you. All he really wanted was to lock himself away with you, to lock the world out, but he couldn’t ignore the reality on the other side of your door.
“Nobody with a lick of common sense would be happy about losing you, baby, but we’ll handle it,” you promised.
“He won’t like that you’re poaching a member of his crew. Especially not his first mate,” Izzy was fretting, he always was so good at that.
You buried your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. “Let me handle it, sweetheart. Do you trust me to do that?”
“‘Course, I do,” Izzy almost sounded offended. Offended that you thought he wouldn’t trust you.
“I’ve got you. Edward never really did, he knows that,” you soothed him. There had always been an unspoken understanding. He could run around with Izzy trailing after him but he was only ever borrowing the man. No matter what, no matter what he did or what they became, Israel Hands was yours and always would be.
“I’m yours,” Izzy stated firmly.
“I know, Love. Just as I am yours.” Izzy hummed as you pulled back just enough to press a tender kiss to his lips.
You always did that, always insisted on it. You were his just as he was yours, you belonged to each other in any way you wanted too. His loyalty was always reciprocated by you.
When you pulled away from him again, you noticed that a few tears had slipped down his cheeks.
“Oh, love,” you cooed, brushing away the tears.
“Sorry,” Izzy apologised, feeling like he had somehow ruined the mood. A reunion was supposed to be a happy thing and he was happy, and yet here he was crying.
“Don’t apologise, it’s alright,” you tutted softly. “What’s wrong?” 
“Just…missed you,” he confessed.
“I missed you too, more than I ever realised possible.” In all honesty, you were a little surprised you haven't teared up yet. You supposed you had more time to process, having been searching for Izzy for so long, while Izzy only just realised you weren’t dead today.“Come on, let’s get you comfortable and maybe some tea,” you suggested.
“That sounds nice,” Izzy nodded softly.
“I’ll get you some comfortable clothes, I got you a few things,” you offered, unfortunately having to release Izzy completely.
“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned a little, watching you move through your cabin.
“I just wanted to be prepared if you agreed to come with me,” you shrugged. As if buying Izzy some extra clothes was a big deal, you would do anything for him, this was nothing.
“‘Course I’d come with you,” he responded quickly, as if you might actually be doubting that.
“I know, love. It’s just been a long time, I suppose I had to prepare myself in case things had changed,” you admitted with a small sigh. Mostly, you had felt confident that you and Izzy would fall in together like anything had barely changed, because the two of you were just…right.
“They haven’t.” It wasn’t the complete truth. So much had changed between him and Edward since you first went your separate ways, things had changed in ways that he hadn’t even thought possible. A lot of that change began when they got word of your disappearance, Edward hadn’t liked how Izzy mourned then Ed’s dark moods started getting more frequent.
So much had changed, but not the way Izzy felt about you. That just wasn’t possible.
-
“No wonder Izzy’s been a miserable pain in the arse,” Lucius commented, sounding somewhat sympathetic for the prickly old man. Almost as if he had developed some new understanding, even if he had been a pain in his arse.
“What do you mean?” Pete asked with a little frown. 
In truth, the whole crew had been thrown by the recent events. The pirate captain who boarded their ship with grace and confidence, barely acknowledged Blackbeard and Stede before whisking Izzy Hands away without a single complaint from him.
“He’s been separated from the person he loves!” Lucius declared like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing the attention of the rest of the crew that lingered on the deck.
“Oh…oh yeah, I can see that,” Pete nodded. He hadn’t really considered Izzy having some long lost love that made him the way he was but now that Lucius mentioned it, that did look like a sweet reunion, the restraint obvious on both sides. Then Pete frowned, suddenly feeling a little sad. “I couldn’t be apart from you for years, babe.”
“Aw, neither could I, babe,” Lucius lent into his side, kissing his cheek that plastered a grin on his face.
“Iz isn’t like that, don’t worry,” Edward scoffed, coming up behind the two of them, drawing more attention to their conversation.
Lucius only jumped a little at the sudden appearance before frowning in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
“Iz,” Edward shrugged, “he isn’t all sappy or whatever.”
“You’re kidding right?” Lucius just looked at the bearded man, certain that he was joking with him. He wasn’t. “Sure, clearly he shows it in a different way. He’s a devoted little fucker, but he’s very clearly sentimental. I’ve never seen him look so…relaxed and comfortable than when they hugged him.” He couldn’t truly believe that Edward couldn’t see that. Perhaps denial was more rampant in pirates than he first thought.
“They used to sail together, they were his superior for some time. He’s just loyal,” Edward shrugged again, though seemed a little less sure of his words this time.
“But…more loyal to them than he is to you…” Lucius observed, making Edward frown. “If that weren’t true, he wouldn’t have even left the ship, right?” he wasn’t sure why he was pushing the matter so much, maybe it was his own nosiness.
Clearly, Edward didn’t like what he had to say though because he was soon stomping off with Stede hurrying after him. Probably with a lot of questions about what just happened.
-
You couldn’t help but smile against the rim of your teacup. Already, Izzy looked more relaxed than he did when you first stepped aboard the Revenge. He sat on the other side of the couch, his feet propped up in your lap, shoulders drooping with tiredness, and his hair slightly mussed up from your attention as he sipped from his own cup.
A knock on the door had him tensing, though. You tried not to react too much, hoping he could fall back into that safe space the two of you had once created together a long time ago. You just dropped one hand down to his ankle as you called for the guest to let themselves in.
Your first mate stepped into your quarters. The whole time the two of you conversed about Captain Bonnet having apparently invited you and Izzy to dinner in their cabin, you rubbed soft circles against Izzy’s ankle. He managed to relax under your touch, not seeming to mind the extra set of eyes in the room then.
“Dinner?” you hummed, “what do you say?” 
Izzy was pondering over his answer before he even truly processed that you were asking him. Nobody asked his opinion about things these days, Edward used to of course but recently it was just whatever whim either he or Bonnet wanted to pursue.
“Sure, have to face them sometime,” Izzy muttered into his cup before drinking from it again.
You gave his ankle a small squeeze of reassurance before facing your first mate again. “Tell the captains we’ll be there,” you ordered. They nodded and left without another word, you were pretty sure they knew that you didn’t wish to be interrupted unless it was an emergency for a little while. They knew how much time and work and even coin in some cases you had put into tracking down your dear Israel Hands.
Once the door was shut, you gave Izzy a moment to be sure that your first mate was gone, before turning to him with a serious expression.
“Izzy, we don’t have to tell them that you plan to leave or anything yet. We’ll hang around for a few days so everything’s not so sudden, okay?” you assured him. “I thought we’d have at least until the morning before seeing them again, if I’m being honest,” that earnt a small blush from Izzy, “I’ll just follow your lead on the matter.”
“Thank you,” Izzy sighed, deflating against the arm of the couch. In the back of his mind he was vaguely grateful for the fact that you had tutted at him and shoved a cushion behind his back when he sat down.
“Anything for you, my darling,” you smiled, stroking your hand up and down his calf as you finished your tea.
-
You were right on time for your dinner with the captains of the Revenge, you didn’t want to be any ruder than necessary after all. Edward had his back up as soon as you stepped through the door and he noticed Izzy’s new clothes, clothes that he was certain Izzy didn’t own and yet seemed to fit him almost perfectly. 
Of course, you had to make some guesses about Izzy’s sizes when you bought the clothes but you could easily have them tailored to fit him perfectly, you were pretty pleased with yourself for getting it this close anyway. 
Stede had also seemed a little thrown off, blinking at Izzy’s new look. Honestly, it wasn’t a drastic difference. He had just switched his leather pants to black cotton for the sake of comfort and was wearing a deep blue shirt, he always had preferred to wear darker shades, under his waistcoat.
Stede shook it off quickly, politely welcoming you and inviting you both to sit at the table. Izzy sat by your side without any prompting, without even thinking about it really, while Edward and Stede sat opposite you both.
You were at least rather impressed with the meal their cook, Roach, had prepared for the four of you. It just about made up for the tension that lingered at the table.
“So, how do you know Edward and Izzy?” Stede asked, a clear attempt at making polite conversation. You could appreciate the effort.
“Used to sail together, long before Edward or I became captains,” you told him.
“They were on the first ship I joined,” Izzy added, making you smile a little. You hadn’t really expected him to tell any sort of story but you weren’t disappointed about it in the slightest. “They were a few years older than me.”
“Took my little dove under my wing,” you teased, tapping your knee against his under the table and making Izzy blush. You had wondered if he would fluster as easily as he used to, assumed that he wouldn’t, but you were definitely pleased to find it was just as easy as ever. “I became quartermaster shortly after Israel joined us and he was the smallest boy on the crew,” you recalled fondly.
“Fuck off,” Izzy muttered, “just ‘cause you had a growth spurt.”
You gave him another fond smile, one that was reserved purely for him, before looking at Stede again. “We sailed together for a good couple of years before Edward joined the crew.”
“Yeah, then we mutinied Hornigold,” Ed grinned, perking up at his chance to contribute.
“Me and some of the crew had already made plans to head out on our own, we all agreed I would captain,” you nodded, “Izzy and Eddie left with me at first, guess it was just easier that way. Once we raided a decent ship, Edward wanted to leave and captain his own crew, wanted to build a legend.”
“I knew he could do it and I wanted to help him achieve it,” Izzy smiled a little to himself.
“And they did it,” you grinned proudly at Izzy. You were honestly proud of both of them but Izzy had always been so dear to you, Edward knew you only had eyes for him.
“Legends are just that, though,” Izzy sighed, “then the legend gets bored of his own story.”
“Iz-” Edward’s expression dropped.
“No, Edward, it’s fine. Guess I got tired of it too,” Izzy confessed, poking at his food a little, “...around the time we caught word of Y/N’s disappearance.”
You couldn’t help yourself, feeling the overwhelming need to comfort him. You placed your hand on top of his.
“Knew something changed, wasn’t sure what it was,” Edward admitted with a small frown. He knew something had changed, could slap himself for not realising what it was.
“Guess I realised a legend doesn’t really mean anything. At that point it just assured our safety, other crews didn’t fight back, raids were less risky, and that was enough for me,” Izzy continued, letting you take hold of his hand properly, letting it ground and support him, “but it wasn’t enough for you and you got bored.”
Edward nodded his agreement, looking a little guilty about it. “Just became a trudge, y’know?”
Izzy agreed, he did know, he had seen it on Ed’s face day after day. Surviving had been enough for him at the time, still would be if your fleet hadn’t sailed towards them he imagined.
“Sorry, Iz,” Edward sounded genuinely apologetic, a heaviness lingered over their time together and all either of them could really do now was acknowledge it and offer condolences.
“Me too, Ed,” Izzy returned, as equally apologetic and guilty looking.
You were almost smiling, proud of them for being able to see things from each other’s perspective even if it was only just a little bit right now. Then Stede had to go and talk. “Well, I hope we can all agree that things worked out in the end,” he smiled and knew he meant well but…
Edward didn’t respond, just gave him a faint smile, while Izzy scowled and you blatantly ignored his comment.
The rest of dinner continued in mostly silence, Stede occasionally commenting on some side and how it was prepared or asking questions about your travels during the time of your ‘disappearance’. You had actually enjoyed the conversation until he said ‘that sounds marvellous! A real adventure!” Again, you knew he meant well, and he was right in a way, some of the things you did and saw could be described as marvellous, it wasn’t all misery once you pulled everything together, but it left a sour taste in your mouth.
It wasn’t long before it came to dessert, Roach bringing in a tray of different flavoured tarts. Roach received the compliments for his hard work before leaving the captain’s quarters.
Stede and Edward were quick to pick their favoured flavour, familiar with the cook’s pastries. You glanced over them, considering, before picking the one you thought you’d prefer.
Before you ate, though, you noticed Izzy frowning at the selection in that way he does. Not frowning because he was upset or displeased, more out of confusion and thought than anything.
“Here, you’ll like this one,” you picked up a lemon tart and placed it in front of him, “it’s lemon and the texture is more like cream than jam.” If Izzy’s preferences in sweets were anything like they used to be, you were certain he would prefer this tart.
Always trusting your advice, Izzy took a bite of the tart. Your heart fluttered at his little hum of approval. There was so much to learn about Izzy that was new, but it was comforting to be reassured that you still knew him well.
“Good?” you asked, casually.
“Good, thank you,” Izzy nodded, taking another bite of the dessert.
Stede watched the little interaction and felt familiarity pang in his chest, he could easily recall sharing new recipes and luxuries with Edward. He always assumed that Izzy couldn’t stand anything that wasn’t for the purpose of base survival, now he wondered if he just didn’t like him and the Revenge. Yeah, that seemed to make the most sense…
After eating, the captains of the Revenge asked you both to share a drink with them. Izzy had given you a small nod and you had accepted their invitation. Stede poured you each a port and chattered about his recent adventures with Blackbeard and his first mate. The exaggerated storytelling and rambling was enough to have Izzy’s patience wearing thin.
“You should check in with your crew,” Izzy suggested quietly when he saw the chance, a light lull in conversation. You took the hint, he wanted to leave and you wouldn’t deprive him of that. There were other places you would rather be as well.
“Good idea, hun,” you smiled, nothing but adoration in your expression, as you placed your empty glass down. “Always one step ahead,” you placed your hand on Izzy’s shoulder as you stood.
You said your polite goodbyes to the captains before heading for the door, Izzy right by your side, only holding back a few inches when you had to pull the door open.
“Izzy,” Edward’s voice brought you both to a halt, turning back to face him. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked. It was obvious that he meant for good, not just for now.
“Ed…” Izzy sighed. He really had hoped this would wait until morning, to give him just a little more time with you before he had to deal with this.
Apparently that was enough of an answer for his captain, former captain? “After all these years?”
You glared a little, not liking that Edward was making Izzy feel bad but you let it go, not wanting to involve yourself unless you thought it truly necessary.
Some like hurt flashed across Izzy’s face, some old ache returning. “I thought they were dead, Edward. I thought that I left, and they died, and I would never see them again,” he told him with some slight panic. You moved closer instinctively at his distress, placing a hand against his back. “I can’t lose them again,” Izzy confessed plainly, voice rough.
Edward was about to speak but you got there first, needing Izzy to understand what you wanted from him. “You won’t lose me if you stay, Izzy. I hope that isn’t why you’re coming with me. You’ll always be mine.”
“I know,” Izzy looked at you with wide eyes, eager to correct you. “I want to come with you.” That was all you needed to hear.
“Izzy-” Edward tried again.
“Ed, if you can give up Blackbeard, I can give up First Mate Hands,” Izzy insisted. He couldn’t be sure that Edward was going to try to convince him to stay but he refused to risk it, couldn’t handle that right now. Today had been…a lot, and that was a wild understatement.
“We’ll stay for another couple of days, but we can’t stay any longer,” you told the captains. “But it’s late, we’ll discuss this further tomorrow if you wish,” the way you spoke assured them that there was no room for argument but that you would keep that promise. If they wanted to speak further on the matter, it would happen tomorrow, not tonight.
Izzy was tense as the two of you left the cabin but pressing into your touch the whole way across the deck and the gangplank. You didn’t speak until you were aboard your ship again.
“How are you feeling, love?”
Izzy actually took the time to consider it, to assess himself and try to put words to how he was feeling. He never was particularly good at that but you had always insisted on him trying his best. “Good…good, actually,” his answer was a little quiet, a little breathy, like he was surprised by his own answer.
“It’s okay if you’ll miss him, he’s been your best mate for years,” you told him.
“Just don’t want to hurt him,” Izzy confessed sincerely.
“He’s a grown man, he’ll manage. And you’ll see him again,” you wanted him to know that if he wanted to see Edward again, then of course he would be able to and you would make sure it happened.
“I’m not having second thoughts, I want you to know that,” Izzy’s glossy eyes focused on you again, his words firm, like you could ever doubt him.
“I know that, just making sure you’re alright, hun,” you promised, rubbing small circles against his back. “Now, should we go to bed?”
“Please,” Izzy let out a heavy breath like some weight had been lifted from him and he could finally breathe properly.
Without hesitation, you led Izzy back to your quarters where he could properly unwind and the two of you could get properly reacquainted without any further interruptions.
-
The next day you had made yourself comfortable over on the Revenge, not wanting to be too far away from Izzy as he continued on with his first mate duties. You couldn’t help but watch over the strange crew with amusement, they were certainly endearing but not the best sailors. You bet the whole thing was driving Izzy insane.
“Still have your midday coffee?” Izzy asked, bringing you out of your musings.
You turned to him with a smile, accepting the warm mug from him. “I do, I always get drowsy this time of day. Don’t have to sneak them anymore now, though,” you sipped the coffee, sighing, pleased, as you lowered the cup. “It’s around lunch, did you get yourself something?” you asked.
“Nah,” Izzy shrugged.
“Go and get something, even if it’s just an orange. If you don’t fancy anything down in the galley, my cook will whip something up for you. They love a challenge,” you insisted, your demand soft and made out of nothing but care.
“An orange is fine,” Izzy rolled his eyes, “I’ll get you one too.”
Before you could huff and insist that he doesn’t need to fetch you things, he was already gone. You shook your head in slight exasperation but smiled fondly as you sipped at your coffee, made just the way you like it. It seems that he had remembered some things as well.
“He makes quite the little errand boy, huh?” a younger man came up to your side.
You instantly went tense, expression darkening as you turned to him and lowered your mug. “You’re Spriggs, the scribe?” you squinted at him.
“Izzy talked about me?” Lucius asked, preening somewhat.
“He’s mentioned you,” you nodded, letting him bask in the satisfaction before stepping up to him. “One more word about him and I’ll slice your dick like an onion.”
In an instant, Lucius froze and stared at you with wide eyes. “Why an onion?” he was already cursing himself for asking a stupid question instead of fleeing. He didn’t know you well but he had a feeling that you would follow through on the threat.
“Would you rather I cut it into neat little segments like an orange?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Uh…no?” Lucius answered carefully, unsure if you even wanted an answer.
“Go,” you rolled your eyes as he scampered off.
Izzy returned shortly after with two peeled oranges. “Why did the scribe look like he was about to hurl?” he asked, only a little accusingly.
“Dunno,” you shrugged innocently, accepting one of the oranges.
Izzy hummed, standing by your side, close enough that your arms brushed against each other’s. “You threaten him?” 
“Maybe…”
“...dick onion again?”
“It’s effective,” you smirked to yourself, “nobody says a bad word about you if I have anything to do about it.”
Izzy huffed but you caught the way his cheek turned a light pink. “Don’t need protecting.”
“Of course you don’t, you’re a fucking vision with a blade. But I like taking care of you…and maybe I like threatening people just a little, but mostly taking care of you,” you teased, leaning your shoulder against his. “I’m always going to have your back, Izzy, my love,” you kissed his cheek.
Izzy sighed but was unable to suppress a little smile. He’ll forgive himself, he didn’t think anyone saw it.
-
It was just like Izzy to insist on doing his job until he had officially left The Revenge and joined your crew. You didn’t mind though, patiently waiting for him to finish his nightly rounds.
The rest of the crew was sitting around with some drink and telling stories, they had pestered you to join them and you didn’t see the harm in it. You accepted the bottle of rum they handed you but mostly just held it in your lap as you listened to their tales.
Izzy finished up his rounds, as satisfied with the condition of the ship as he could be. He glanced around the deck to see where you were waiting for him and saw you sitting with the crew. Suddenly, he felt unsure if he should interrupt but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that it was you, and there was no such thing as interrupting when it came to the two of you.
“Finished my rounds,” Izzy announced as he came up to the group, getting your attention.
Immediately, you turned your attention to him with a smile. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the time to respond before the others were speaking.
“Join us, Izzy,” Lucius encouraged. You looked him up and down but saw that he was being sincere, so you didn’t comment on it.
“Yeah, they just told us all about the Hornigold mutiny. Totally badass,” Pete grinned, hooked on the stories you had to tell.
Izzy frowned at the group, all looking at him with varying levels of eagerness but all seeming pretty welcoming, before looking to you. “Are they mocking?” he asked with a small snarl.
“No, darling. They just enjoyed the story,” you assured him, smiling even when your heart ached. “Do you want to sit or do you want to go back to our cabin?”
Truthfully, Izzy didn’t want to spend time with the rest of the crew but he didn’t want to ruin your fun either…
So, he just sat beside you in response.
You smiled and shifted closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. “This guy is fascinating,” you told him, gesturing to the Swede, who preened and blushed under your comment.
“Really?” Izzy asked, unamused.
“The stories he has are insane. Don’t know how many of them I believe but entertaining nonetheless,” you insisted, “born under blood rain, now that’s a great start to a story.”
Izzy rolled his eyes but he had to admit that was a tale he and Ed might have tried to sell under the legend of Blackbeard.
“Drink?” you offered your bottle to him.
“No, thanks.” 
You nodded, placing the rum bottle beside your feet.
The crew quickly fell back into their dramatic stories, trying to one up each other in entertainment.
Once you were certain that the crew was distracted enough, you lent into Izzy and spoke low against his ear so only he could hear you.
“We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you could sense he wasn’t exactly comfortable, you didn’t have to know him that well to realise that, and you didn’t want him to force himself to do anything.
“It’s fine,” Izzy mumbled back.
That just confirmed to you that you were right.
“Come on, let’s turn in for the night,” you patted his knee, shifting to stand.
“No,” he clasped your hand tightly, stopping you from standing, looking a little worried when you met his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” you squeezed his hand comfortingly, making sure to stay quiet and now draw anyone’s attention.
“Nothing, it’s fine. We can stay.” Izzy couldn’t quite hold your gaze and you made up your mind.
“Well, it was good sitting with you guys but I really should go check on my crew,” you declared as you stood from your seat, gently tugging Izzy to his feet again. Despite his halfhearted protests a second ago, he followed without argument.
The crew wished you a goodnight and didn’t try to stop you when you left, returning to your ship with Izzy in tow.
You greeted your own crew and bid them all a goodnight before disappearing into your quarters.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Izzy complained as soon as the cabin door was shut. “You could have stayed if you wanted too.”
You nearly rolled your eyes. Of course you could have stayed if you wanted too, just as he could have stayed without you if he wanted, or asked to return to the ship if he wanted. You didn’t roll your eyes though, understanding that this was stemming from something deeper.
“All I want is to be with you, my dove,” you promised him, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve spent enough time drinking and telling tales and I haven’t spent nearly enough time in your company.”
“You sure?” How could the infamous Izzy Hands, best sword in the Caribbean, look so vulnerable and unsure? His eyes just gave everything away.
“I’m completely certain,” you answered firmly but with an underlying tenderness.“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want or aren’t comfortable with,” you quickly kissed the tip of his nose.
Izzy flushed and grumbled a little but you still saw the way he smiled to himself. “Are we still leaving tomorrow?” he asked.
“We are. If you’re still okay with that,” you nodded.
“I am.”
You smiled softly, placing a hand on the back of Izzy’s neck and touching his forehead to yours. “Good. I was thinking we could have breakfast with Ed and Stede in the morning, say goodbye properly before heading out. It’s your choice,” you suggested.
Izzy hummed in thought before nodding slightly, leaning into you some more. “...we can have breakfast.”
-
You had decided to host breakfast in your quarters, figuring it would be the polite thing to do, where Izzy’s belongings had already been put away neatly, like they had been there all along. You couldn’t wait for the cabin to properly look like it was lived in by Izzy.
After breakfast, which went surprisingly well, you and Izzy walked Edward and Stede to the gangplank. “It really was good seeing you again, Edward,” and you really did mean it, you had been friends once upon a time. “No hard feelings, right?”
Edward looked at Izzy and saw the way the tension in his shoulders was less than he could ever remember seeing. “Yeah, no hard feelings,” he nodded, a little hesitantly.
You smiled, glad. You really hadn’t come to cause trouble, just to get your Israel back.
“And it was fascinating to meet you, Captain Bonnet,” you hadn’t fully decided if that was a compliment or not. Izzy did seem fond of him and that had clouded your judgement, you could admit that. 
“Likewise,” Stede grinned, “feel free to visit anytime.”
“See you around, Iz,” Edward nodded to his former first mate and long term friend, a weight to his words.
“See ya, Edward,” Izzy nodded back, just as heavy.
Edward and Stede returned to the Revenge and your crew took down the gangplank.
“Ready, love?” you asked, touching your hand to Izzy’s elbow.
“Ready,” Izzy nodded, sounding sure of himself.
You shouted for the crew to raise anchor and set on the course you had previously given them. The crew called back their acknowledgements and got to work.
You smiled at your bustling crew before leaning against Izzy, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Welcome home, my dove.”
“Don’t think that petname really fits me anymore,” Izzy grunted, making you chuckle.
“Nonsense. You’ll always be my dove,” you tutted. Izzy sighed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, honestly enjoying watching a competent crew working again. “We’re heading to port, going to give the crew some extra coin and shoreleave for a job well done. Think they can manage sailing straight for a few days,” you hummed.
Izzy looked around the deck, seeing your crew bustling and busy, talking between themselves as they worked diligently. “Look like they have it handled,” he agreed.
Your hand settled against his lower back as the two of you returned to your quarters. Once inside, you shrugged off your coat and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. The cabin had already been cleaned up from your breakfast meeting.
“Can I ask a question?”
You frowned a little as you turned to Izzy, hoping he was only asking such a question as a formality. “Of course,” you nodded.
“What is my position among the crew?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You already have a first mate and I don’t like the title of ‘bed warmer’.”
You were taken aback by his words, as if you would ever refer to him as such or allow anyone else to do so. “Izzy, you don’t think…that’s not how the crew sees you, I promise. You’re a respected pirate, a respected member of the crew. When I told the crew just who we were looking for, they were excited to have Israel Hands on the crew.”
“I would just like to know my position,” he sighed, still as stubborn as ever.
“I suppose I didn’t really think about it, was too focused on just getting you back,” you admitted. “I would offer you the position of first mate but…well, mine is very loyal and put a lot of work into helping me track you down. It would be wrong to demote them. But you’re far too qualified for a lower rank,” you thought out loud before your face lit up, an idea coming to you. “How do you fancy being co-captains?”
“Co-captain?” Izzy gaped at you. “You’re joking?”
“If Blackbeard can do it, so can I,” you shrugged.
“Co-captains, a fucking stupid thing,” Izzy muttered. He really wasn’t ready to be taking ideas or suggestions from Stede fucking Bonnet. “Could just be…could just be your partner…”
“Partner, captain. Whatever you want. Either way, you’ll be respected and listened to aboard this vessel. You have my word,” you vowed.
“I believe you.” He always did, you never gave him a reason not to.
You met him where he stood, snaking your arms around him. “I can’t believe I have you back.”
“I can’t believe you’re back,” he breathed, settling his hands on you, just needing to touch and feel. Still needing to remind himself that you were alive, you were here, and you were real.
“Never going anywhere without you again,” you promised. “Will have to fucking kill me,” your dedication sent a shive down Izzy’s spine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” It felt like a prayer falling from Izzy’s lips. How long had he longed to hear you say those words again, to be able to speak those words again?
“Thank you for keeping this,” you whispered against his lips, toying with the ring on his necktie.
“As if I’d ever stop wearing it,” Izzy had never even considered it, had only taken it off of his finger before it began to feel heavy on his hand. It was too easy for him to see, to remind him. So he moved it to his neck, wanting everyone to know that somebody had gifted him such a ring once, cherishing it, while clad in black in mourning.
Izzy didn’t need to mourn any longer because you were here, holding him and kissing him. He would have to put his ring back on his finger.
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totowlff · 8 months
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break the rules
➝ you're there for business and that's all. however, after your presentation, you meet a mysterious man who makes you question all your convictions.
➝ word count: 3,8k
➝ warnings: strip club environment, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut
➝ author’s note: this was an idea that appeared suddenly and that was stored for some time in my drafts. after finishing my last one shot, i took the courage to finish this story. definitely not my best, but I still find it interesting and, in a way, mysterious.
The wind whipped your hair against your face as you walked down the narrow street. Winter hadn't officially arrived in Vienna, but that didn't stop you from feeling a bone-chilling cold under the thick coat and red scarf you had chosen to leave the house that late afternoon.
The movement at that time of day in the Innere Stadt was intense, cars roaming the alleys near St. Stephen's Cathedral, sharing the tight space with buses, bicycles, motorbikes and pedestrians, many pedestrians. Residents and tourists, adults and children, all mixed together, heading to their homes, apartments and hotel rooms to rest after a long day in the City of Dreams. Walking in the opposite direction, however, you weren't going home or to the hotel, like them.
You were going to work.
The fact that you had a night job was not surprising, considering that that was a city that had tourism as its main economic asset. There were countless bars, restaurants and cafes that were open, waiting anxiously for customers, especially after a complicated period related to the Covid-19 pandemic.
But the surprising part of your job was that you weren't a waitress, a cook, or a bartender, even though you'd served countless flutes of champagne and glasses of whiskey, with and without ice.
You were a stripper.
It wasn't the most conventional job there was in Vienna, especially considering the city's nightlife. However, it was the only one that, in addition to paying well enough to cover the expenses of the PhD in psychology you were doing, was flexible with the timing of the workshops and seminars you needed to attend, as well as making it possible for you to work on your dissertation during the week.
Your family didn't know, let alone your classmates or teachers. The official version was that you worked in a high-end bar and received some generous tips from customers. Nobody needed to know what you did or said for them to pay you so well.
Stopping briefly to see an interesting shoe that was in the Midanis window, you headed towards the brown door next to the gold tiled wall where the club's name was placed. Stopping in front of the intercom, you quickly typed in the employee passcode, a simple sequence that caused the lock to squeak open.
Descending the stairs leading to the lounge, you came across one of the security guards, who was smartly dressed in a well-tailored suit.
— Good evening, Layla.
— Good evening, Marc — you replied, smiling.
That wasn't your real name. As soon as you were hired by the club, you were given a new name, of Arabic origin, in order to protect your privacy and offer more security against clients who wanted to cross the line that was firmly delimited in your contract. Unlike other girls, you had refused to join the club's list of available escorts.
You were there to dance, and only to dance.
As you entered the main hall, you found the place being carefully prepared for the night. Two female employees were bent over tables, wiping them down, while the bartender arranged drinks on the bar. Greeting them with a smile, you crossed the room towards a door at the back of the room, which led to the dressing rooms.
As she opened the door, your nostrils were filled with the scent of hairspray, women's perfume, and nail polish remover. In the speakers, a lively beat mingled with the conversations and laughter of the other women who worked there, who were already getting ready for the night.
— Good evening, Layla — a blonde girl, who was modeling a curl with a curling iron, greeted you.
— Good evening, Fatin — you answered, as you went towards the lockers and opened yours to put your purse in — Curls today?
— Aisha heard that there is a big table reserved tonight — Fatin replied, letting go of the strand she'd just styled and picking up another one — Looks like it's a big guy's birthday party. And you know what it means, right?
— Tips? — you replied, looking over your shoulder as you removed the coat you were wearing, revealing the black top you were wearing underneath. Then it was the turn of the jeans to slide down your legs, revealing your panties in the same color.
— Exactly — she smiled, releasing another curl — And the good ones. The kind ones that pay bills.
— I hope so, I still have to pay my apartment’s rent this week — you chuckled, as you folded your coat and put it in your locker. Then you pulled the black tulle top and shorts out of your bag, putting them on right there. There was no point in feigning modesty considering the women there were dressed even less discreetly than you. Finally, you put on your favorite heels, with transparent and vertiginous platforms, perfect for the choreography you would be doing that night.
Sitting in front of the mirror, you were just finishing gluing on your false eyelashes when Theresia, the club manager, walked into the dressing room with a wide smile on her face.
— Good evening, girls — she said, receiving a chorus of positive responses — Today we are hosting a large group for a birthday celebration, so I ask that you put your all into your choreographies and be nice to them.
— Do you have the setlists? — one of the girls, a brunette whose name there was Huda, asked.
— You start, Huda, followed by Iman, Layla, Malika and Karima closes the first round — the woman replied, making you release the air that was trapped in your throat. You hated being the first one to perform, as your choreography was more rhythmic, and generally, the audience appreciated more lively opening numbers — Any other questions? No? Great. Girls who want to go to the bar are free to do so.
Theresia walked out with a few girls behind her. However, you remained seated, staring at your own shoes.
— Layla? — someone called you. You looked up to find Fatin standing in front of you with a smile on his red lips — Are you going to stick around?
— Yeah. I want to stretch and concentrate for the performance.
— Want me to take a look at the guys to give you a preview?
You smiled.
— I do.
— Okay, I'm going there and I'll be right back, okay?
Fatin left the dressing room towards the club’s bar, while you remained seated, staring at your own reflection. You were wearing strong makeup, your eyes lined with eyeliner, almost cat-like. A perfect parallel with the choreography you had chosen for that night, which had something wild and mysterious about it.
As you mentally recalled the steps, following the beat of the music in your head, you imagined how your movements would look to the eyes of the men who should be walking into the club at that hour, ordering their drinks and talking about business and other banal things before enjoying the women who would walk onstage and make them put their hands in their wallets and pockets.
Still thinking about one of the moves you would make, your eyes met Fatin's, who was returning to the room with a wide smile on her face.
— Did you like what you saw? — you asked, stifling a laugh.
— There are some interesting guys out there. Apparently they're here to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of them. But if you ask me, they don't look 50 years old...
— Did you ask their age?
— No, but, you know, these guys always have friends the same age.
You laughed.
— Everyone from here?
— Doesn’t look like it, as they're speaking English. There must be foreigners with them.
— Americans?
— Don't think so. Too handsome to be 50-year-old guys from America.
— There are 50-year-old guys from America who are handsome.
— But those are too handsome, Layla. And, let's face it, the only good looking guy in America at that age must be Ben Affleck and I'm pretty sure he's not out there.
— Of course he’s not, he got married this year.
— Married? — Fatin asked, incredulous.
— Yeah, with Jennifer Lopez — you replied. It wasn't like you followed celebrity news, in fact, you found out after a customer commented on your butt being similar to the singer's and lamented for long minutes about her marriage.
— Shit — she muttered, taking a seat in a chair beside her, facing the mirror.
— Don't worry, you'll find your Ben soon, Fatin.
The two of you continued talking, commenting about the choreography you were working on and the song you were dancing to that night. When showing a video that you had made in a rehearsal, your colleague gave a mischievous smile.
— The guys out there are going to love it.
— You think so?
— I'm sure — she replied, as you caught sight of Theresia's face in the dressing room doorway, a slightly worried expression on her face.
— Layla, you’re up.
— Why?
— Iman's with a client and the guy paid for an hour with her. I can't get her out of there now.
You sighed, getting up from your chair.
— The show must go on — you said, pushing past Fatin and heading for the door.
The way to the stage was always a moment of introspection for you. It was as if you stripped yourself of all the labels you occupied in the lives of the people around you. You abandoned your daughter, granddaughter, friend, student, psychologist and future doctor to become just Layla. Your sensual and confident alter-ego, who looked each of those men in the eye and made them feel much more than sexually desired, but understood and welcomed as well.
Standing at the entrance to the stage, you took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching your hands, relaxing the muscles in your shoulders. “It's showtime”, you thought, before looking up and wiggling your feet to check that your shoes were securely fastened to your feet.
And then you entered the stage, slowly.
The room seemed to quieten as you walked to the center of the stage, the voices becoming whispers inside your head. Leaning your back against the pole, you waited for the woman's voice to come through the speakers before looking up. The club was full, men and women mixed up, liquor bottles, champagne flutes and whiskey glasses strewn across the tables.
The soft beat guided your movements. Lifting one leg a few times, soon you were pulling yourself up onto the pole, spinning as your body slid down. Your muscle memory took you through the music as if it were something natural that you had done hundreds of times. Every step came naturally, every sigh, every lust-filled gaze you directed at the audience.
After a few steps on the ground and spinning around the pole to get up again, you finished the choreography looking back at the audience, while the song ended in a whisper from the interpreter. The silence that followed made the corners of your lips curl. The mission had been accomplished.
Taking a deep breath, you waited for the spotlight that illuminated you to go out so that you left the stage in quick steps, hurrying to make room for the next girl who would perform there. At the backstage door, Fatin was waiting for you with a wide smile on her face.
— Another perfect performance, Layla — she said, as she escorted you back to the dressing room — The guys were completely mesmerized.
— I hope you didn't notice that I missed one of the footprints on the pole — you replied, walking back into the dressing room.
— Honestly, I didn't even notice — Fatin murmured, while you took one of the small glasses of water and took a long drink — Now drink this and let's go back to the hall.
After a quick look in the mirror to confirm that your hair was still acceptable and that your makeup still looked fresh, you followed Fatin to the bar, which was, indeed, very busy. Smiling, you waved towards the bar, where the bartender, Farah, was making another Old Fashioned for one of the men sitting across from her.
— Layla — you heard Theresia call out to you from a corner of the hall, near the hallway that led to the private rooms. Giving Fatin's shoulder a knowing squeeze, you walked over to the manager with a smile on your face.
— Yeah?
— There's a guy waiting for you inside.
You blinked.
— Who?
— Does it matter?
— Well, it's just that I haven't talked to anyone yet...
— And you don't even have to, just move that ass of yours and these guys are happy — she said sharply — Now go, he's in room three.
Nodding, somewhat resigned, you entered the hallway in silence. Taking a deep breath, you were concentrating on putting the mask back on, on being the mysterious, seductive woman that man had seen onstage. “Focus”, you thought, before exhaling and putting your hand on the doorknob.
The private rooms always had the same layout, with a pole placed in the center of the room while a large black velvet sofa took up three of the walls of the room. Sitting right in the middle of it, tugging at the sleeves of his white shirt, was the man who had requested your presence.
He had dark hair and eyes, as well as a strong jaw. His shoulders were broad and, even sitting down, he looked very tall. Upon noticing his presence, he straightened his posture, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
— Good night — you said, slowly approaching the pole in the middle of the room, your eyes locked on his.
— Good night — he replied, his deep voice running through your body like a caress and a shiver — Layla, isn't it?
— Yeah — you said, placing a hand on the cold metal, leaning almost nonchalantly, even though you were feeling just the opposite. However, the rule was clear: it didn't matter to you who he was. It only mattered that he was willing to pay to have you for his eyes alone, if only for a few minutes.
— I liked your performance — he said, resting his elbows on his thighs — Have you been dancing long?
— A few years already — you replied, as you walked around the pole, your fingers slipping along it.
— And you like it, I presume.
— Well, yes — you said, smiling as you practiced a few laps on the pole — It pays my bills, so I can't complain.
The corners of his lips curled up as he leaned back on the couch.
— I guess I can say the same about my work.
— What do you do? — you asked, before mentally condemning yourself. It didn't matter to you what he did, you were just there to be a pleasant sight and nothing more. However, your curiosity did not anger the man in front of you.
— A curious girl, I see — he murmured, giving her a small smile.
— Someone needs to be — you hesitated, after all, you didn't know his name. And, realizing this, he hastened to complete.
— You can call me Torger.
A strong name. Powerful. Unusual. Something tingled on his skin.
— And what do you do for a living, Torger?
— Business — he replied, punctually.
— That we all do, don't we? — you returned, leaning against the pole.
— Indeed. But in my case, it's real business. Finance.
— Banker? Or investor?
— Neither of them. I own a business.
You snorted, looking unimpressed.
— Ah, crypto, eh? — you said — I hope you're not thinking of paying me that way, I won't accept it.
Your comment made Torger chuckle, throwing his head back. Stopping suddenly, your heart was pounding in your chest as something warm spread through your body.
— No, no, I've learned my lesson regarding cryptocurrency, I don't even want to think about putting money into that.
— Did you already try and lose money?
— Enough for me to regret thinking it would work — the man replied, running a hand through his hair — The point is, my job is related to finance, and before you ask, it's not illegal at all.
— I'm relieved — you murmured, allowing yourself to hook one leg over the pole for a quick spin.
— And you?
— What about me?
— What do you do? — Torger asked.
— You see what I do — you answered — I dance.
— I'm asking out of here. Do you work with something else? Study?
You pressed your lips together as you put your feet back on the ground. The moment you stepped there, Y/N didn't exist, the woman who was fighting for a postdoctoral degree didn't exist, neither the daughter, or the sister or the granddaughter that you were.
There was only Layla. And only she could be there, inside that room.
— I can't say anything.
— Why not? — he asked, raising an eyebrow.
— Because it's in the rules — you said, leaning against the pole again.
That was an outright lie. There were no rules within the club regarding what you could and could not say about yourself to the customers. The choice was entirely yours and you always chose not to say it so as to protect yourself from potential stalkers. Yet even following your own directive, something told you that you could trust Torger.
— Rules?
— From the club. I can't say anything about myself.
— Anything?
— Anything.
— Not even if I want to know more?
— Not if I wanted to tell you more — you said, stopping in front of the pole. Staring at you, Torger had the shadow of a smile on his face, as if he sensed that you wanted to say more. “Am I that transparent?”, you asked yourself as you took careful steps towards him.
— And are there any other rules here that you need to follow?
— Well, there are some — you murmured.
— Do you mind telling me?
You took a few seconds to think as you allowed your back to slide down the pole, coming to a stop on your knees in front of it.
— I can't use my real name or any information that identifies me, and I can't drink or smoke during working hours.
— Layla isn't your name then?
— No — you replied with a smile, as you slowly rose from the ground — And I didn't even mention the rules you have to follow…
— Are you serious?
You chuckled as you walked to the front of him.
— Yeah. You can't pressure me for information about her private life, not even take me out of the club during working hours... And you can't, under any circumstances, make physical contact.
— You mean I can't touch you? — he asked, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
— No, you can't — you replied, looking down at his hands. They were big, with long fingers and not a ring in sight. Perfect to touch you.
— Not even if I asked?
— No.
— No one would know.
— They would.
— Only if you tell — he returned, in a mischievous tone.
Moving closer, you crouched down in front of him, your eyes wandering over his expression, trying to unravel what was behind the mischievous smile and curious look. He was completely magnetic, drawing you into his orbit in an almost natural way.
— And you want to touch me? — you finally asked.
— Yes, I do.
Looking into his dark eyes, you took a deep breath before taking his hand and bringing it to his face, your fingers lightly touching his skin. You felt as if your entire body was pulsing, heat spreading inside your chest. The feeling of doing it for the first time was both frightening and delicious.
— You're beautiful — Torger murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.
— You're rather handsome yourself — you replied, making him chuckle.
— Thanks, I don’t hear that often.
— Seriously?
— Yeah. I've never been successful with girls.
— I don’t believe you.
— Why not?
— Because you're making me want to break all of my rules — you replied, instinctively bringing your face closer to his — And I never break rules.
— But you're breaking them now.
— For you.
— I guess I should feel special.
— Maybe you are — you whispered, your face close enough that your nose was brushing his. His touch on your face made anticipation swell below your navel — Maybe you are that much more than special…
You knew the moment you kissed him, you were lost. This was your last chance to back off, to avoid doing something you would bitterly regret. But at the same time, you wanted to jump into that abyss, you wanted to do that.
And when you kissed him, it was glorious.
It was a chaste, subtle touch. It was the first time you'd kissed a customer, and in a way, you wanted it to be the last. You wanted to kiss that man forever if that was possible. You wanted to taste him, wanted to feel his skin under your fingers. I wanted to feel his strength and delicacy mixing with his desire between the sheets.
— Torger — you whispered as he pulled away slightly. However, the answer came through his hands, which helped you up and placed you on one of his legs. Wrapping one of his arms around his neck, he didn't wait to bring your lips together again, this time in a more intense kiss.
It was strange to be in that position, completely surrendered to a customer, tasting alcohol on his tongue and his fingers squeezing your thigh. But, it was a good-type stranger. A stranger who made you understand why other girls had their favorite customers, who they offered more than attention and affection.
— I've never seen a woman like you — he growled, nibbling her neck, the hand that was on her thigh slowly moving up her body, burning you with desire — So beautiful, so perfect...
Your fingers dug into his dark hair, pressing his face against your skin, as if it could give you a crumb of pleasure. And, considering the path his lips made towards your breasts, you were pretty sure it was close.
Until the lights in the room turned white, and the music suddenly stopped.
That change in the environment had him looking up at you as sadness invaded your chest, your lips pressed into a thin line.
— What happened?
— Your time is up — you muttered.
— But… If I want, I can request more time, right?
You sighed, getting up from his lap. It was like waking up from a really good dream and realizing it never really happened. You couldn't have a guy like him all to yourself, you never could. You could never have more of him, however much you wanted.
— No, Torger. The limit is 30 minutes per girl, per night.
— Shit — he said quietly, running a hand over his face.
The silence that followed was uncomfortable, not to say painful. You didn't want to go, but you knew you needed to get on with your night, just like he did.
But how to continue working after that?
“The show must go on”, you said to yourself mentally, before sighing and turning towards the door. However, something wrapped around your wrist, preventing you from following. Turning your face, you found Torger's dark eyes fixed on yours.
— Are you going to be here tomorrow?
— Yeah. I perform every night here.
— So I'll see you tomorrow, okay?
— Okay — you replied with a little smile — See you tomorrow, Torger.
Bringing your hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on your knuckles.
— See you tomorrow, Layla.
163 notes · View notes
starstruckmoony · 2 years
Text
wish you were sober.
masterlist
pairing - sirius black x reader
summary - you're drunk and try to kiss sirius. he rejects you 'cause you aren't sober. then the same thing happens again, but the other way around.
trope - friends to lovers (non-magic au!), fluff
word count - 2.9k
warnings - drinking, vomiting, mentions of sex, language
you were pretty drunk, to say the least.
parties were something you would usually regret going to five minutes after arriving, yet you always managed to wind up in them. this time, the biggest one yet was being held at james potter's house. you were pretty sure he invited the whole bloody year over. good thing his parents were away for that week. he just happened to be another one of your and sirius' good mates, so you didn't even have to ask him to know whether he'll be there or not. and where sirius goes, you go too. because for one, you would become bored out of your mind without him at some point in the night, and two, he was your best friend. the best friend you definitely did not have feelings for.
so, there you were, stood on the balcony of what you assumed was one of the guest bedrooms, clutching a plastic cup filled with orange juice and a strong alcohol of some sort. you weren't even sure what was in it, it tasted like absolute shit and it made your throat sting harder than anything you'd ever drunk, but it was enough to get you wasted and that's what mattered. you were leaning maybe a tad bit too close to the railing, one simple push from behind would have you landing straight into the tussle the blokes bellow you appeared to be having.
"don't fall over." sirius warned from behind you. he came back from a quick trip to the bathroom. you scoffed, whining when he tugged at the sleeve of your (his) leather jacket to help you come inside.
you spent most of the party on the second floor, trying to stay away from the bigger crowd. you hadn't seen james for most of the party, and you could only assume what he was getting up to since lily was nowhere to be seen either. you had remus with you for a while, however. he wasn't very fond of parties, so he opted for staying upstairs with the pair of you where it was a little less rowdy for as long as he was able to. at some point in the night mary and peter came looking for him. you were surprised when he actually left you and sirius for them, and you simply could not grasp why it happened. sirius could though, he was guilty of staring at you like a lovesick idiot (that of course flew over your head because you couldn't even walk properly let alone think straight) and remus wasn't about to watch the two of you snog right next to him.
sirius was sober, much to everybody's surprise. you couldn't pinpoint why he wasn't in the mood for drinking, and why he was only on his second bottle of beer four hours into the night. in any other scenario, he'd be stumbling around the house, most likely butchering one of abba's songs despite always putting on a face whenever james and the girls wanted to listen to them. he told you it was the party that bored him.
unbeknownst to you, he decided not to drink much that night after seeing you had different plans. sirius wanted to make sure you would get home safely (after experiencing several train-wrecks trying to walk home with you while both of you were hammered). he also wanted to unsure that nobody else would try to do anything stupid to you in your drunken state. many blokes had their eyes on you, and very obvious to everybody but yourself, sirius despised all of them. he wanted them nowhere near you. he always let his jealousy get the best of him somehow, at least that's what remus liked to say. but they didn't deserve someone as good as you, he'd tell himself, nor were they worthy of your attention. sirius loved you, he really did, but of course, you were too oblivious to realise how much he truly cared for you, even when you weren't intoxicated.
"okay, mum." you rolled your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder the moment you made it to the couch. "is this your fourth one?" he looked down at the cup in your hand with furrowed eyebrows.
"sixth." you giggled, waving the cup around. he managed to catch it before it fell out of your hand and spilled everywhere, and then threw it out the open window.  "you've had enough."
"you twat, i was drinking that." you attempted to reach for your long lost drink, but failed when you felt a jolt of pain shoot through your head and you fell onto sirius' lap. you turned from your side and onto your back, and finally took note of the way he was looking at you. he seemed worried, and even your drunken self could see that. you scrunched your face up and poked at his chest, drawing a laugh from him.
your head was seriously begging to spin, partially because of the alarming amount of what you hoped was only vodka in your system, but partially because of sirius. and his stupid smile, and his stupid hair, and his stupid self that you adored with your whole being.
the alcohol in your body must have truly been messing with your brain, because you suddenly blurted out something you would never, ever, dared to have said while sober;
"i really wanna kiss you." it was almost inaudible, but sirius definitely heard it. he stiffened, sucking in a breath. he wanted more than anything in the world to kiss you, but not while you were in this state.
"y/n, no, you're drunk." sirius shook his head. you sat up with a pout on your face. he let his head fall down with sigh, and then glanced back at you only to be met with your disappointed expression.
"am i not pretty enough?" you took his hands into yours. he didn't pull them away.
"y/n, don't be silly." he massaged your knuckles with his fingers. your face didn't change, and your drunken mind couldn't make any sense of what he was saying. all you understood was the word no, and that was enough to break your heart.
"that's not an answer." you whined, leaning forward in attempt to kiss him. sirius instinctively moved away, causing you both to slide off the couch and straight onto the floor. you fell onto his chest. he huffed, gently pushing you off of himself and standing up. he took your hand and pulled you up, and you collapsed against him.
your face was pressed against his shoulder and his arms were tightly wrapped around you, preventing you from falling and holding you in place. you felt safe in his embrace.
"y/n." he said softly. you looked up at him, lips pouty and eyes glossy. "i knew it. you don't think i'm pretty enough to kiss."
"love, you're not sober enough to kiss." you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. he laughed, helping you stand up properly. you murmured something incoherent, latching onto his arm so that you don't fall over. 
"i'll kiss you when you're sober," he cupped your cheeks and smiled in attempt to reassure you. you so shook your head with a frown. that was not anything near satisfying enough for you. the emotional outburst, along with all of the vodka you consumed that was making your stomach turn, became too much to bear.
you pushed him out of the way, and made a clumsy run out onto the balcony. you caught onto the railing, leaned over it, and everything you had eaten and drank that day came back out. and again. and then again. at least it broke up the silly fight going on down there. amidst all of that, you felt one of sirius' hands patting your back, and the other holding your hair away from your face.
you turned around and stumbled back inside, groaning in pain, feeling completely and utterly humiliated. "are you alright now?" he questioned worriedly as he followed after you.
"think so." you nodded, your face beet red from the shame you were feeling. you two managed to waddle downstairs and out of the house without any additional incidents (other than almost stepping onto a sleeping emmeline on the stairs and then running into marlene and dorcas who were eating each other's faces in the hallway).
"climb onto my back." sirius kneeled down in front of you once you successfully made it out onto the pavement in front of james' house. you obliged, feeling only slightly happier seeing that he will give you a piggyback ride home. it was the easiest solution he could think of, as trying to walk you back to your house with your wobbly legs would be a lot more challenging. yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, both of you ended up with scraped elbows and bruises on your knees.
"promise." you snuggled your face into the back of his neck, inhaling his scent. it always calmed you, it felt like home. "hm?"
"promise that you'll kiss me."
"i promise." oh how he wished you were sober.
***
about a six days later, you were at it again, at marlene's birthday party. but this time, it was sirius who had too much to drink, not you. after having the worst hangover of your life the week before, you refused to touch any type of alcohol that was offered to you and decided to keep watch of your best friend, just like he kept watch of you. you tried not to leave his side, even in the crowded living room, where the air was so thick you could barely breathe, and where you couldn't even hear yourself think because of all the noise, coming both from the attendees and the record player in the corner.
"is the room spinning for you? it's spinning for me." sirius looked up at the ceiling, a drunken laugh slipping past his lips.
"how about you sit down?" you suggested, laughing when he managed to smack himself in the face.
"nah." he brushed you off, reaching for the cup with some sort of strange cocktail that he left on the windowsill. he took a swig, and then looked at you, smiling like an idiot.
"has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?" he tilted his head to the side. you felt heat rush to your cheeks and you awkwardly squirmed in your spot. "i've heard it once or twice." you swallowed, crossing your arms and looking down at your knees in embarrassment. you cursed inwardly for feeling so affected by his compliments, he wasn't thinking straight at all.
"you should hear it every day." you bit your tongue and glanced over at him. your eyes widened in horror when he began losing his balance. you instinctively reached for his arm, pulling him by the sleeve of his jacket and making him collapse onto the couch next to you.
"ouchie." he giggled, nuzzling his face into your arm. you were as still as a statue, pupils blown wide and face burning red. you didn't have the heart to push him away, so you let him do his thing, as long as it didn't go any further than that.
"y/n." he murmured.
"hm?" you sighed, averting your eyes to pandora and a bloke you didn't know a couple of meters away from you. they looked like they were about to snog any second. you exchanged a knowing glance with regulus who just happened to be passing by the pair of you. he didn't quite stick around though, and you couldn't blame him.
"you're really beautiful." sirius murmured. you inhaled sharply, mumbling a quiet thank you.
"y/n." he said again.
"what, sirius?" you turned your head towards him this time, noticing that his face had scrunched up.
"i think i'm gonna be sick."
of course he was. you almost lost count of how many drinks he downed, so you found yourself waiting outside of the bathroom, leaning against the wall with sirius sitting on the floor next to you.
"y/n." he managed to choke out. "yes?" you groaned, looking over at the bathroom door for the nth time. you gave up on beating the shit out of it when no answer came from the other side, though you were very much annoyed by whoever was in there because why the hell were they taking so bloody long.
"you know what we said at james' party?" he mumbled, his head falling to the side and resting on your legs. yes, you do. though you pretended not to remember anything that morning last week when sirius stayed over at your house after dragging you there. he didn't bring anything up either, so you thought it was safe to assume that he believed you couldn't recall what was said and that he could get away with it.
the truth is, he really did think you forgot and didn't want to make things awkward. he had feelings for you and he never tried to lie to himself about it, but much like yourself, was a bit oblivious. he chalked the whole "kiss me" outburst of yours up to the alcohol and refused to think or talk about it.
but now, his thoughts weren't exactly the clearest. he was too drunk to control what was coming out of his mouth.
"not really. many things were said." you cleared your throat, refusing to look at him. he grunted, struggling to get up onto his feet. when he did, he fell slack against you, throwing his arms around you.
"kiss." he sniffled. you squirmed out of his hold, sighing. "what about it?"
"i said i'll kiss you when you're sober," you nodded slowly, tapping your foot on the floor nervously, "now you're sober."
you laughed, shaking your head, "yes, but you're not."
"doesn't matter." he argued, pulling you into a hug again. the bathroom door opened just as he did.
"oh, for fuck's sake crouch." you cursed as barty walked past you with a satisfied smirk and a blushing evan trailing behind him. you rolled your eyes and quickly dragged sirius inside.
"what was i saying? oh yeah, it does matter." you retorted, leading him over to the toilet bowl. you had a death grip on him, making sure he doesn't fall because that would be simply disastrous, and you could finally breathe normally once you made it there. "how?" he leaned against it, looking up at the ceiling. he just seemed so... sad.
"because you're not sober." you stated the obvious. he whined, flailing his arms around like an angry toddler. "that's not important, i said i'll do it."
"sirius, forget the promise–"
"i don't care about the promise, i just wanna kiss you." he cried and launched himself forward into your arms. you didn't push him away this time, but held him instead, running your hands through his messy hair. "how about we kiss when we're both sober?" you suggested, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. you were certain that it would never happen, and that you'll just keep making promises you know you can't keep.
"deal. tomorrow." he pulled back, sticking out his pinkie finger.
"tomorrow?"
he nodded. "promise." you locked your pinkie with his, and whispered, "okay, promise."
he was throwing up in the toilet ten seconds later. what a way to end your night.
the morning after, you woke up early, with sirius already awake and lying next to you, wrapped up into the blankets as if he was in a cocoon. only his eyes were peeking out and he smiled when you met his gaze. he looked adorable, you swore it was the best sight you had ever woken up to.
"good morning to you too." you chuckled tiredly, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with a yawn. "how are you feeling?"
"everything hurts and i smell bad, but other than that, i'm feeling fantastic."
"wonderful." you replied sarcastically, lifting up the blankets from your body to get out of bed. sirius tugged at your wrist before you could do that.
"what?" you met his eyes, and you instantly knew what he was thinking. "why didn't you say anything last week?" your lips formed into a thin line.
"figured you said it not to hurt me," you shrugged, looking down at your fingers which were now intertwined with his, "not 'cause, you know, you actually wanted to kiss me."
"i wouldn't have said it if it wasn't what i wanted." the honesty in his voice destroyed you. you didn't even have to look at him to know that he was telling the truth. your vision became blurry, and you fell into his arms.
you held onto each other for a good minute, and then pulled apart, only to collide again, letting your lips meet. you were finally kissing him, kissing your best friend. your best friend who was finally sober.
"ew, morning breath." you pushed him away, letting your head rest on his shoulder and laughing uncontrollably. "this is the worst moment we could have picked to profess our love each other." sirius chuckled along with you.
"you're the one who decided to get all cheesy at the crack of bloody dawn." you lifted your head to look at him, and you couldn't help but smile. he looked so happy, you wanted to kiss every single inch of his face.
"i'm mental about you, you know." he said softly, wrapping his strong arms around you. you buried your face into his neck, sighing in content, "i'm mental about you too."
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