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#i know where i want it to go. i think they can bond quite well over mutual interest in plants + coffee.
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headcanons of Dean with a daughter?
This thought is vague, it occurred to me while I was sleeping.
Season 10: Dean as a demon is wandering with Crowley, one day Crowley tells the demon Dean that he has something to teach him, he has two people he wants Dean to meet. Dean is baffled, Sam and Cas are with the bunker. Who is Crowley talking about? Upon arriving at the indicated place, he sees a teenage girl of about 17 years old and also Ben. Who is that girl, what is she doing with Ben and how did they get there?
1)The girl is very similar to Cassie, the girl he fell in love with in season one, Crowley explains to Dean that when he saw Cassie again she did not tell him that they had a daughter together, Cassie did not want her daughter growing up with a hunter father and Cassie didn't want to drop the "you have a daughter" bomb on Dean, Cassie knew Dean had to leave, but the moment Dean left town, Azazel arrived, killed everyone (including Cassie) and Azazel kidnapped Dean's daughter so they could use her against Dean, but before even doing so Dean shoots Azazel in the cemetery (Den didn't find out about his daughter) so Dean's daughter was just left with the demons who was taking care of her while she was kidnapped, somehow the girl escaped from the demons and having no one, she jumped from orphanage to orphanage while getting involved in the life of the hunters.
2) Ben: After Cas wiped his memory, Lisa and Ben lived a normal life, until an evil angel (all while Dean is in purgatory), probably Naomi, kills Lisa and Ben's entire family and Naomi kidnaps to Ben, she gives Ben back the memories that Cas took from him and she wants to manipulate him to have something to blackmail Dean with, while Ben is kidnapped, Naomi brings him a hunter as a cellmate, Dean and Cassie's daughter, (Cas and Dean's daughter is 14 and Ben is 13) she is now a teenager/hunter quite angry with life because of what happened to her family. (Dean is Ben's biological father) Dean and Cassie's daughter works with her half-brother Ben to escape and they form this sibling bond. When they manage to escape from the angels, Ben has nowhere to go, his entire family is dead, so he begins hunting together with his half-sister, both agreeing that they do not want any relationship with their father, Dean Winchester.
3)In season 10 the girl is 17 years old, and Ben is 16, and both (again) are kidnapped by demons where they are taken to Demon!Dean. Crowley explains to Demon!Dean who they are (Crowley's plan was to use them for fun or as blackmail) but Dean, since he's a demon, is like "kill them both, I don't care." Ben and his sister are experts at escaping kidnappings and have really gotten good at hunting despite their young age, so they manage to escape. Dean becomes human and the first thing he does is tell Sam and Cas that he has two children but they probably hate him, Dean, Cas and Sam go out to find Dean's children
Well other than being super depressing (I love Lisa lol) this headcannon is so cool!
-Dean would be relentless searching for them after he was cured.
-it would take a while for them to warm up to him, but I think he would try to get closer to them by enlisting their help (he sees what good hunters they are, and he doesn’t want to put them in danger but he knows they’ll be hunting either way, so at least this way he can try to protect them)
-after working together for a while, the kids get really close to Dean and Sam and Cas.
-Dean tried to keep them on smaller hunts as much as he can in season 11, because The Darkness is just way too scary for him to think about his children fighting.
-they despise the men of letters in season 12, which makes Dean super proud.
-They ignore Mary so hard in season 12, because they see how much she’s avoiding Sam and Dean (Sam and Dean are smart, but they were too emotionally invested in their mother to realize what a jerk she was, but Dean’s kids are distant enough to see it)
-the kids LOVE Jack, and it freaks Dean out so much. Ben teaches Jack about cars (just like Dean taught him), and Dean’s daughter watches Star Wars with Jack.
-Dean always goes on hunts with his kids, because he hates the thought of not being their for them if something happened.
-Dean is actually so happy to see his two kids have such a strong sibling bond even if they don’t have the same mom.
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orcelito · 2 years
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It's so interesting playing p5r and watching Haru's social link... in discacc, I kinda gloss over most of the social links, bc theyre largely the same as in the game, but with her... I'm gonna have to really pick apart how her friendship with Akira develops lol. Bc of how things have been set up, their friendship will be fundamentally different from how things are in the game... they CAN be friends, I just... need to smooth some things out first...
#speculation nation#discacc shit#the biggest difference i think is the way that makoto already exists for discacc haru as The Confidant#in p5 haru's friendship with akira is largely based on him being a pillar of support for her after her father dies#it's not quite the same. but for discacc haru she's going to automatically turn towards makoto for this kind of thing#additionally. there's the whole deal with goro lmfao#while akira's (kinda) called goro out for it. a little bit. the fact remains that his boyfriend has been a piece of shit to haru#and akira could definitely do more about it. and he will! but he hasnt yet.#so yes he's only been kind to haru. and haru's grateful to him for keeping her needs in mind.#but he's still willingly associating with someone who she just. Does Not Like.#not only is goro a complete asshole. but he's also Uhhh a murderer lmfao. & even with the circumstances haru cant understand why#everyone else seems so okay with that fact.#it's complex. and once she's got more of a chance to get to know goro herself she'll understand more.#but she's starting off with such a bitter impression of goro and By Extension akira.#her friendship with akira just Cant be the same. so i have to uhh figure that out lol.#i know where i want it to go. i think they can bond quite well over mutual interest in plants + coffee.#just gotta Uhhh deal with the baggage first lol#ive got my plans tho. gonna start putting them into place uhhhh. well. chapter 43 ish.#depending on if i do the giant 41 chapter or manage to make it into 41 with 42 being the anniversary chapter.#if i do that then it'll be 43. where i start putting some plans in place.#in the meantime. i just gotta sit goro down and tell him to not be TOO much of an asshole lmfao
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alyakthedorklord · 1 year
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Batman the Playboy
Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.
The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.
Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“
Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”
Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”
Green Arrow: (offended noises)
Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”
Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”
However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)
So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”
Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”
Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”
———
Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.
GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”
Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”
Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”
Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”
GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”
Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.
Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”
Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”
Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”
Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”
Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”
Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️
“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”
Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!
The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.
And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.
(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)
Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.
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xoxomireya · 5 months
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!ᶻz﹒the ultimate friendship guide﹒🦢﹕⤾
tysm for requesting @jasminejournal < 3 ! i had a lot of fun making this.
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I. YOU CAN’T NATURALLY MATCH WITH EVERYONE
First things first: You can’t be friends with everyone. apart from the obvious “a friend to all is a friend to none”, it’s quite unrealistic to expect everyone to like you, and that’s okay! You just have to acknowledge that you aren’t meant to be liked by everyone.
Find people who are like-minded, who give you the same energy back, who have the same values, people that have healed and don’t bring their baggage and toxicity into the friendship. quality >>> quantity. Not everyone is meant for you and that’s okay, because we are not seeking quantity, we are looking for quality friends who have all the values i listed before and the ones you also find important.
The world is your oyster. in this era it’s easier than ever to make friends: meet a lot of people, say yes to plans, go to events, network, etc. The more people you meet the more you will realize that you can’t match naturally with everyone, some people are just not your vibe and the more people you meet the more likely you are to find someone you do mesh well together with. I completely understand that it might be harder for some people who are introverted or have social anxiety to socialize, but in that case I really recommend to work firstly on yourself because a lot of the times those things are triggered by insecurities and a bad relationship with oneself. I also recommend to practice with people online or people who know nothing about you, because that’s the thing: they know nothing about you. If you’re insecure, they don’t know that. If you’re acting in a confident way even though you’re not, they’re also not going to know because they don’t know the way you think or act.
Maybe the problem is YOU. Ifyou’re always losing friendships and struggling to maintain them, maybe the common denominator is you because you have issues you need to introspect. Focus on yourself for some time and fix all the issues that might be making you repel high-value people such as being insecure, romanticizing your sadness, having toxic and jealous behaviors…
II. WHERE AND HOW TO MEET PEOPLE
Like-minded communities !! You need to utilize the resources you have to make friends. friends that last are the ones who think in a similar way and who share similar values and interests, and you’re more likely to find like-minded people in like-minded communities. Build up the courage to go and do things alone so you become comfortable in going to places to meet people alone.
Some like-minded communities can be classes in which they teach hobbies of yours because when there’s a community of people whom you have to coexist with you will be forced to work together in a team and talk to each other and that will make it a lot more easier to make friends. Plus, you’re taking the same class so you’re going to have an interest/hobby to bond over which means automatic conversations without any awkwardness. Another option is to become a regular literally ANYWHERE. Ranging from a coffee shop to a gym, when you become a regular you familiarize with the staff and other regulars.
We’re living in an era in which technology can help you with almost anything. Use this to your advantage! Make online friends, use social media to search for like-minded people, download apps to make friends such as bumble bff…
III. HIGH-VALUE FRIENDS.
Now that you’ve prepared yourself and know where to find friends, let’s talk about how to know when someone is right for you.
Look for people who strive to be the best version of themselves and who are surrounded by positive energy. You are who you surround yourself with, so make friends that bring you positivity and who inspire you. Make sure that you both share how you want your future to look like and have similar future plans. Meshing well with them is a must. For example, someone who prefers and feels more comfortable having low maintenance friendships won’t match with someone who prefers to have high maintenance friendships.
And of course, respect is needed. You cross my boundaries? You’re out. Any sort of toxic or jealous behavior is NOT normal and you should not be friends or be influenced by that type of people.
IV. WHAT TO TALK ABOUT AND HOW TO BE A GOOD FRIEND.
Do NOT come off as desperate. “What if they don’t like me?” Thinking like that will only make you be so immerse in your thoughts that all of your confidence will disappear. Focus on having a “How can I make them feel comfortable and understood?” mindset, you’re now not thinking only about yourself and being self-conscious, so you’re going to appear more confident and since now you’re focusing on listening and making the other person feel comfortable you will make an amazing first impression.
Ask them questions about themselves. People love talking about themselves and this will immediately make them like you. Do not make it look like an interview, tho. Make sure you provide your input too which shouldn’t be hard because every question you ask is going to be redirected to you. You can also start the conversation with a compliment!
Friendship is a two way street. It needs to go both ways and you need to follow up with each other. What are they offering you? What are YOU offering them? Think about what can you give without forgetting what can you receive. The type of friend you want is the type of friend you need to be
V. HOW TO MAINTAIN FRIENDSHIPS
Everyone has the type of friendship maintenance they feel more comfortable with, but it's a fact that low-maintenance friendships are tho ones that last. Even if you feel more comfortable having high maintenance friendships, make sure that both of you can accomodate to having to maintain the friendship even when both of you are busy.
COMMUNICATION!!! I assure you that there's probably going to be a lot of hardships and misundersatings in your friendships (And that's not bad, we're human) and no proper communication will lead to the deterioration of the friendship.
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timmyyyturner · 2 months
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Dm's: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
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TW: Alcohol.
jasontodd: I'm in love with you.
y/nl/n: i literally have no idea who you are.
It started a few months ago when you were followed by some random guy on Instagram. He had a racking of 28 Million followers and you were just a girl with 2K posting GRWM's and make up tutorials.
jasontodd: you looked so pretty in your livestream like MARRY ME TF??? ♡ liked by y/nl/n
y/nl/n: thank you, baby ♡ liked by jasontodd
You didn't get why you were so special.
y/nl/n: *voice memo* I'm serious like is there a reason you think I'm soooo pretty? ♡ liked by jasontodd
jasontodd: Damn. Even your voice is hot.
jasontodd: I'm sorry for inhaling the same oxygen as you🙏
y/nl/n: LMAO
It was kinda cute, kinda stalkery. Every single thing you posted he liked, seconds after. Praising you like you were an absolute goddess. At first you thought maybe it was a fake account but no, he was the real deal (he sent you a picture of his ID with blurred out details). When you Googled his name, you didn't expect his adoptive dad to be the BRUCE WAYNE. You might not be Wayne obsessed but everyone in Gotham know who Bruce Wayne was.
jasontodd: You busy??????
y/nl/n: no, why?
It was late almost 3 in the morning and you'd been occupied by messaging some guy who slid into your dm's six months ago. You were surprised when a incoming video call notification popped up on your phone. You were hesitant to but answered it. "Hello?" His camera was moving a lot but it was quite on his side, you could hear how heavy his footsteps were. You were laying in bed cozied up holding your pillow in your arms, another propping up the phone.
"Gimme a second." You watched him set the camera up in his bathroom, toothbrush hunging from his mouth. "There." He continued brushing his teeth. "Where are you going dressed so handsomely?" He snickered. "Well, pretty lady. It's not where I am heading but where I've been. I just got home from a friends after party."
"Probably using the art of back bending to bring home chicks?" You tilted your head. "Unless the chick was you, pretty, Ion want her near me." You smiled, He yawned causing you to do the same. "Dick is making me brush my teeth cause I threw up in his car and now my breath stinks." You nodded, listening to his little rant. "He's getting me a bucket so I don't choke on my vomit in my sleep, how many people do you think died like that?"
"Well-" You attempted to answer but he cut you off unintentionally by throwing up off screen, thankfully before returning to the screen, rinsing his mouth and rebrushing his teeth. "Who's Azealia Banks? Is she a influencer?" You smiled. "She's in the music industry, a real controversial person." He hummed.
"Who are you talking to?" Jason picked up his phone. "My girlfriend and you can't see her cause she's mine, your brain will hurt with beauty." Jason kissed the screen before you heard Dick approach him. "C'mon Jay get in bed now."
"No." You watched Dick attempt drag Jason— who was throwing lowsy kicks and punches at Dick— to bed. You giggled watching the camera angle change in the hands of drunk Jason before the phone fell somewhere. "Get. In. Bed."
"No." It was funny hearing Jason have an actual sibling bond. "Fine, I'll just call in the big guns. ALFRED!" You could hear Jason mumble a 'fine' before a ruffling of blankets as he got in bed. "NOT ON YOUR STOMACH!" Dick yelled, picking up the phone, looking at you. You waved at him sweetly. "Jason, there's no way you pulled her. She's so pretty and nice and you're... Jason." Jason snatched the phone frowning. "I don't like you." Jason laid on his side, Dick was on his way out of the room before turning to Jason to say something. "Hey, Y/n, do you wanna get married tommorow?"
"Uhm, I'll discuss this with sober you, okay baby." Jason hummed. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" You smiled. "Okay." Dick smiled leaving the room.
He fell asleep a little over a hour later. You pressed a kiss to your screen before hanging up and going to bed. He woke up with a throbbing headache. He grabbed his phone seeing you posted on your story 30 minutes ago. He opened it seeing a picture of him and you on a video call. Did he call you last night?
"don't go! what if I choke on my drunk vomit and die?!" - jason todd. He chuckled reading that. He liked the story immediately getting a reply.
y/nl/n: alive then?
He smiled.
jasontodd: Sorry about last night lol.
y/nl/n: lol don't worry about it :))!
After that you sent him a picture of lots of you cooking, which he liked. What you did next though surprised him.
y/nl/n: 📍live location
y/nl/n: join me? we can discuss our marriage, boyfriend ;)
He never got out of bed faster.
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wileys-russo · 9 days
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Emily fox, “you’re quite intimidating you know”, night club/team night out
e.fox II intimidating
"why don't you just go and say hello, she doesn't bite!" lotte teased, nudging her friend who blushed red and elbowed her. "we've spoken before!" emily defended with a huff and a roll of her eyes.
"yeah at training, 'i'm open on your left!' hardly counts as a conversation." alessia chimed in on her other side, the three tar heels squished together on a lounge chair, the entire team out for the night to bond before everyone was due to head away to portugal, captains orders.
"em, you've been here for two weeks man and you've said about ten words to the girl! i don't get it, she's lovely." lotte pushed again nodding in your direction where you were stood at the bar laughing at something kyra said, shoving her head away from you.
"why are you two being so bossy! there is an entire team for me to bond me." emily gestured around to the multitude of mostly blondes gathered around the little area they'd booked off for dinner and a few drinks.
"exactly, but there is only one forward that you keep avoiding like the plague." alessia grinned knowingly. "is that maybe because you think she's fit." lotte teased, poking at the brunette who huffed.
"no! we don't say fit anyway, thats so english." emily pulled a face and sipped on her drink. "i hate to remind that you now...live in england." lotte laughed with a shake of her head.
"sorry. do you just think she's so hot?" alessia chimed in again with a horrendous attempt at an american accent. "not the valley girl voice." emily sighed with a shake of her head.
"i don't even know her! you're both idiots." emily insisted finishing her drink. "well you clearly want to know her. you're always glancing at her, watching her from afar, blushing when she smiles at you. since when are you so shy around pretty girls foxy!" lotte grinned as the american buried her face in her hands.
"what is this? haze the new girl?" emily grunted with a roll of her eyes. "she's very single, you're very single. we're not telling you to get on one knee, but you can't avoid her all season." alessia laughed before a new look settled across her face.
"no less don't give me that, i know that look. thats your meddling look!" the american groaned, having seen it many times throughout their time at college together.
"me? meddle? i don't know what you mean." alessia gasped in mock offence, sliding away from them and standing to her feet. "less where are you going? less? less!" the american defender whisper shouted to the blonde who pointed to her empty glass and pouted, but headed right over to you.
"next rounds on you less? thats so kind!" kyra cheered in greeting, slinging an arm around the blonde as you chuckled at your national teammate. "kyra stop being a pest for thirty seconds would you? shoo!" you gestured with your hands as the younger girl scowled and flipped you off but slunk away to find someone else to annoy.
"what are you drinking?" alessia smiled, bumping her shoulder into yours and nodding down to the lack of a drink in your hand. "water." you winked in return as the blonde pulled a face.
"boring! tomorrow is a day off. i thought australians knew how to drink?" alessia teased, waving over the bartender and respecting your wishes none the less.
"this ones emily's. i'm dying for the toilet, can you take it over to her for me?" alessia asked nodding down to the other drink she'd ordered, basically running away before you could even say something.
"typical." you sighed, dodging kyra who tried to steal the other drink and making a beeline for your newest teammate. "hey i need to speak to leah about something, be right back." lotte interrupted her friend mid conversation, emily frowning at the sudden way she stood and hurried off.
"hey!" but her face paled and eyes widened as you smiled down at her, offering her the other drink in your hand. "less got it for you, ditched me with it at the bar though." you rolled your eyes playfully and raised an eyebrow when the american didn't make a move.
"its not poisoned, you can drink it." you teased, but the friendly demeanor faded as emily tried desperately to make her brain and mouth match up, only able to open and close it wordlessly.
"okay...i'll just leave this here for you then." you frowned, slowly placing it on the table in front of her with a smile that this time didn't meet your eyes as you turned to leave.
"no wait! please sit." emily finally found her words as you hesitated for a second and she slid over slightly, gesturing to the space beside her. though as you sat down and she grabbed the drink with a quiet thank you, the uncomfortable silence returned.
"you know i think those four words are the most i've heard you speak. i thought americans were supposed to have big personalities?" you tried again with a slight teasing tone, leaving the space open for if she'd jump in.
"well i thought australians were known for drinking!" emily tried with an awkward smile as you shook your head. "why does everyone think that? there is more depth to us than that!" you laughed, sipping on your water.
"well you're quite intimidating you know." emily admitted as you looked at her in a mix of surprise and shock. "me? like you're one to talk you avoid me like i have a disease!" you laughed as the brunette look confused.
"i don't! i promise. or i didn't mean to if it seems i have been." emily sighed apologetically. "i thought you may have been avoiding me after the last time we played the US, that tackle." you winced at the memory, given a yellow card for the way you'd accidentally swept her legs out after she'd gotten rid of the ball.
"that? oh i was ready to kill you...months ago. i hadn't even given it a thought since then, well until now." emily assured with a smile that you returned, seemingly relaxed a little more at her words.
"i'm just...awkward? and you seem to have everyone and everything figured out, i've not heard anyone say a bad word about you." emily revealed as your smile softened. "you don't seem awkward. and i've had a couple of years to find my feet, you'll do the same too!" you bumped your shoulder into hers gently.
"okay i'll tell you a secret." you placed your water down on the table and turned to face her a little more. "i'm not drinking because i'm taking my driving test tomorrow and i've already failed it three times, last thing i need is a hangover." you groaned quietly, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
there was a pause of silence and you wondered if you'd said the wrong thing until finally as you were about to stand up there was a break through.
"stop laughing at me it isn't funny! i told you that in confidence." you huffed glaring at her as she clutched her stomach. "how did you fail it three times? i've been here a month and i passed first try!" emily shook her head in disbelief.
"i can't parallel park." you mumbled, eyebrows furrowing and crossing your arms as you huffed. "what? its easy!" emily laughed again as you sighed. "i just get all the angles wrong and i panic and well the last time i clipped the car in front." you blushed bright red, something emily had to admit was an adorable sight.
"no way." "way, its tragic."
"hey kyra! thirsty?" you frowned in confusion as emily called over the younger girl, handing over the drink she'd barely touched as the midfielder snatched it with a beaming grin and a thank you.
"what did you do that for? you know she won't buy you one in return, she's a massive scab." you rolled your eyes knowing the girl all too well, owed many a drink you know you'd never see.
"what are you doing on your day off tomorrow?" emily questioned ignoring the one you'd asked her as you shrugged. "groceries, sleeping in-" you started to list off the errands on your list as the american shook her head.
"wrong. we're going to get up early and get a coffee, maybe some breakfast, then i'm teaching you how to parallel park before your test." emily responded confidently, waving off your attempts to say no.
"okay, its a date." you eventually gave in with a grin, noticing the slight change in her facial features and the way her eyes widened. "oh i'm so sorry i don't mean like-" you hurried to back track but the american held up a hand, catching alessia's eye over your shoulder.
"yeah, it is a date."
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daydreaming-nerd · 1 month
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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 2
Part 1
AN: Wow I just want to say I have been so overwhelmed by the love part one got. Thank you for all the comments! I truly cherish each one!This part is a little short, because if I end up doing two different versions (a Lucien version and an Az version) this is where they will probably split off.
If you're new here check out my masterlist!
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 
Warnings: so much fluff, Angst, they be fightin'
Word count: 3485
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“Are you sure you want to do this?  We can fully elope if you want to.” I whisper to Lucien as we stand in front of the double oak doors to my brother's office. 
At first I was confident that we had nothing to worry about. But now that I stood here, with only an ornate piece of wood separating us from the High Lord? The nerves had started settling in.
“I’m sure, an honorable male would ask your brother's permission before wedding you, and you deserve nothing but an honorable male.” he smiled, squeezing my left hand, the one his family ring currently found its home on. 
“But what if he says-” 
“Are you seriously doubting my silver tongue right now?” he smirked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “There’s a reason I was cursed to wear a fox mask for 50 years my darling.” 
“Believe me I know all about that silver tongue,” I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder as I recalled what that silver tongue did to me last night.  
“Shall we?” he asked, donning an unbothered face. 
“We shall,” I smiled before pushing open the doors. 
Inside the ostentatious study sat my brother, with his mate perched on his desk beside him with her back facing us. He broke his love sick gaze on her to see Lucien and I standing at the end of his desk. 
“Sister…Lucien, this is a surprise,” Rhys said, fixing some papers on his desk, as if to collect the thoughts swirling inside his head as well. 
“I’m sorry we didn’t knock, that was an oversight on our part,” I laughed thinking about the thousands of compromising positions we might’ve found them in. I silently thanked the cauldron for keeping that reality at bay. 
“I was hoping I could discuss something with you,” Lucien said regally. I was so taken back by his tone I couldn’t help but look up to him, his face was nothing short of the son of a High Lord. 
The air in the room stiffened as Feyre turned around to sit on the arm of Rhys chair, I suddenly felt like I was in a fishbowl. My brother and I had always been very close, I had shared everything in my life with him, there wasn’t a story of mine he didn’t know. But he didn’t know about Lucien, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to that. 
“Of course Lucien you can speak to us about anything,” Feyre smiled warmly,  placing her hand over Rhys’ as if to calm him down.
“With all due respect Feyre this is just between Rhysand and myself,” Lucien stated with the utmost respect, yet I still nudged his foot in warning. 
Rhys shifted in his seat a bit, placing his hand on Feyre’s hip, “Anything you have to say to me you can also say to my mate Vanserra.” 
This was not going according to plan. 
“Well, you see,” Lucien looked at me and I gave him a subtle nod to continue. “Y/n and I have been seeing each other for quite sometime now-” 
“And by seeing each other you mean?” Rhys interjected. 
Lucien cleared his throat, “We’re all adults here Rhysand I-” 
“You mean to tell me you’ve been fucking my sister?!” Rhys growled and I swear the mountains stirred in the distance. 
“Rhys calm down!” I shout but Feyre speaks up first. 
“How long has this been going on for?” Feyre asks, calmly. Her voice seemingly caused Rhys to lower his hackles. 
“Since Starfall,” Lucien answered truthfully. 
“Dammit I owe Cassian money,” she cursed looking at the door of the adjacent room. 
Rhys turned to look at his mate bewildered, “you had suspicions and you didn’t tell me?” he gasped. 
“Well Cassian thought they were going to hookup that starfall but I said there was no way,” Feyre said seemingly disappointed she lost a bet. 
“Guys?” I probe, turning both of their attentions back to us.
“What I’m trying to say is I admire your sister very much Rhysand, and I would like to ask for your permission for her hand in marriage,” Lucien said, giving my hand a squeeze. 
Feyre looked to Lucien, “But Elain is your mate?” she asks, confused. 
“And Azriel is yours y/n,” Rhys reminded me. 
“Come on Rhys, it’s been 400 years. If the bond was going to snap it would’ve happened by now. Azriel doesn’t want me.” I say honestly, and for the first time, the words don’t sting as much as they normally do. 
Lucien picks up my train of thought, “And Elain has made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me.” he says to Feyre, who gives him an apologetic glance.
I look over to see Lu smiling down at me, “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we get along well. I’m at my happiest when I’m with him,” I smile back at him before turning to my brother and Feyre once more. “Lucien is a good male, he’s kind and he takes care of me. I think we could make eachother really happy.” 
Lucien tugs on my hand to bring my attention back to him, “And y/n is a beautiful, smart, and charming woman. Any male would be lucky to call her his wife, including me.” his lips curl upward, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. 
I had begged the Cauldron all my life to bring someone into my life who would choose me. I used to think that person was Azriel, but after all my years of flirting with him and trying to get the bond to snap I was only ever met with nothing. Yet here Lucien was, standing in my brother's office, saying I choose you. 
Feyre’s voice broke my train of thought and pulled both of our attentions, “Aww, Rhys they're so sweet,” she beamed grasping onto my brother's arm. 
Just like I had prophesied, I saw my brother's hard exterior melting under the ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhhs’ of his beloved High Lady. He stood from his desk and I felt Lu tense beside me as we both waited with bated breath for what the High Lord was going to say next. 
“Lucien Vanserra,” he said, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.” 
The tension in the air dissipated as everyone in the room smiled, Feyre was practically jumping for joy. Lucien gave Rhys a firm handshake over his desk and I could see that while the proposal was unexpected for my brother, he wasn’t unhappy. He knew just as well as I did that Lucien was a good male, that he would be good to me. 
“Oh we need to start shopping for dresses right now! I’ll grab Mor and Nesta and we can go out! We’re going to need a cake too!” Feyre squealed, hugging me tightly. 
“Uhh that’s the other thing,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to step on my sister-in-law's happiness. “We didn’t want a big wedding.” 
“We actually wanted to elope, and we want you two to be our witnesses.” Lucien picked up my sentence.
“Oh of course we will,” Feyre smiled looking at both of us before wrapping her arm around Rhys. 
Rhys looked more troubled than he did moments ago, like the idea of an elopement didn’t sit right with him. However if he did feel that way, he didn’t voice it. Not when the idea seemed to excite Feyre so. 
“When is the date?” Feyre inquired. 
I looked to Lucien who was already looking to me for an answer. We had never given the date a thought. I shrugged my shoulders at him, hoping he might take the lead. His eyes twinkled with mischief, it was that same look he gave me before he did something like wipe whipped cream on my nose or use his flames to singe my bum as he slapped it.
“The day after tomorrow,” he said with certainty. 
“The day after tomorrow?” the whole room gawked. 
Lu turned back to me, “Yes. We’ve never been conventional, why start now,” he gushed giddy with infectious excitement. 
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, “Okay,” I giggled. “the day after tomorrow.”
He leaned down to scoop me up in his arms spinning me around the room, Feyre’s laughter and my own bouncing off the ornate wood paneled walls. 
“But what will you wear?” Feyre asked, seemingly trying to figure out something in her head already. 
I pondered the idea myself before it hit me like a ton of bricks, “Oh I can wear mothers dress!” I exclaimed looking at Rhys.
“I’m sure that’s what she would’ve wanted,” Rhys smiled, tossing his arm around his excited wife. 
We parted ways with the promise of seeing them later this evening at family dinner. An event I typically despised, but now? Things didn’t seem so dull. I was walking in with my fiance, instead of alone. 
Lucien and I ran down the hallways hand in hand, laughing like teenagers getting away with sneaking out. 
“I can’t believe I just did that,” he laughed, backing me against a wall. 
“Did what?” I ask, out of breath from running. 
He leaned in close to my ear, “Told your brother how thoroughly I’ve been fucking you,” he smirks pressing a kiss beneath my ear. 
“Well you didn’t use language that graphic,” I snicker while playing with the ends of his hair. 
He pulls his head back from my neck to give me that mischievous look again, “I can always go back in there and tell him,” he teases. 
“Or…” I say low in his ear, “you could just show me.” I say suggestively. 
Lu’s lips curl upward brushing against the shell of my ear, “You little minx!” he growls hoisting me up, earning a squeal from me. 
“You are beautiful and amazing and charming and you are going to be my wife,” he gushes, placing a kiss on my lips for every tender word. 
Lu smiles at me before titling my chin up to meet his lips, the kiss warm and sweet. His hands pull my waist closer to him, and I bring my own from his chest to loop around his neck. He presses his forehead. 
This was the start of a new chapter, one where I was somebody’s first choice. One where I was chosen and loved. One where I didn’t come home to an empty home, or show up to solstice parties without a date. One where I had someone to kill the spiders in the house for me, one where I was chosen. 
As Lucien held me close to him, I could sense he felt all the same things too. It was a new start for both of us. A chance to be happy. 
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That evening after much celebration from Lucien and I that involved some time between the sheets…and the shower… and the living room floor…we finally dressed for dinner. 
Dinner with the family was typically a laid back affair, it was the one time a week we could all see one another. Rhys would even make sure no one had any assignments during that time so that there were no interferences. My dress was nice yet laid back, nothing like what I would wear for starfall or a ball. 
Lucien came up behind me as I put on my earrings in the stand up mirror.
“You look lovely, my wife looks lovely,” he said, taking the earring back from my hand to place it on himself. Kissing my bare shoulder in the process. 
“I’m not your wife yet,” I smile, turning in his arms. 
“Maybe so but you’re going to be,” he reminds me, kissing my nose. 
“The day after tomorrow,” I say 
“The day after tomorrow,” he repeats back. “Now let’s go before our tardiness causes your brother to call off the wedding.” 
I laugh taking his hand and walking down the townhouse steps into the brisk night air. I checked to see that I had moved my impromptu engagement ring to my right hand before we got too far away. While I was excited about marrying Lu it was important to me that the wedding stay an elopement.  I wasn’t sure how the rest of the family would react. Despite our good humor and book swapping, Nesta may choose to rip off my head for taking her sister’s mate and who knew how Cassian might feel about me marrying a Vanserra, even if it was Lucien. 
As Lu held open the gate to the townhouse for me, the same way he did on starfall a year ago. I was sure that I had made the right choice. Not just in my future life partner, but in keeping the engagement secret for just a few days more. 
The family gathered around the table, each one of them placing a dish in the center to be shared. During dinners we didn’t like to have the maids do all the work, per the request of the Archeron sisters. They said it felt more homey if we all pitched in on the work and they were right. Lu and I parted ways and I gave Feyre and Nesta a warm hug before continuing to set the table. It seemed everyone was in high spirits as even when I passed by Rhys to lay down the potatoes he gave me a kiss on the forehead. 
Maybe everyone was in a good mood for once, or maybe things just seemed lighter because I didn’t walk in here by myself tonight. 
Dinner moved quickly, and Lucien sat next to me as he normally did, both of us thick as thieves kicking each other's feet all night. It was impossible to keep such a happy secret from the family, but it was also insanely fun. Every now and then I caught a knowing glance from Rhys or Feyre. But whenever Rhys looked at me his next glance was always to Azriel, who didn’t seem to suspect a thing.
When the meal was over we all took our goblets of wine and moved to the living room to drink, laugh and tell war stories, as we always did. Normally this was when I would make some half-assed excuse as to why I had to leave. The last thing I wanted to see was a bunch of mated couples all over each other. My heart still panged as Elain chose to sit on the arm of Azriel’s chair, but it was lightened by the brush of Lucien’s fingers against the back of my head as he went to sit across the room next to Rhys and Feyre. 
It wasn’t until Cassian started talking about going to war with the Valkyries for the one millionth time that I decided that I definitely needed more wine for this story. So I stood and marched my way into the kitchen with the promise of bringing back a couple bottles for everyone. 
The walk-in wine cellar in the kitchen was cold, so when I turned around with two bottles in hand and bumped into a very warm chest I nearly yelped. 
“Shhh it’s just me,” Lucien grinned, taking the two bottles from my hand to place on the counter beside us. 
“Lu you scared the shit out of me,” I say in a hushed tone as he hoists me onto the countertop. 
“I’m tired of watching them all cuddle up to one another in there, I want to cuddle up to you as well,” he smirked, placing kisses all over my neck. 
“Down boy,” I giggle, acting like I don’t feel the exact same way. I feel his lips curl against my skin as I run my hands through his hair.
“This is only going to get worse once you’re my wife,” he smiles, placing a slow kiss on my lips. 
“WIFE?!” 
I whip my head around from where I’m sitting on the counter to see Azriel standing in the doorway, a look of pure betrayal written all over his face. Lucien’s hands found my waist pulling me off the counter so that my feet were firmly on the floor. 
“You’re marrying him?!” Azriel shouts again and suddenly a smaller figure appears behind him, swathed in light pink and roses. 
“He’s my mate you can’t just take him,” Elain exclaims, seemingly coming into her own. 
I immediately see red at her words, completely disregarding Azriel in the room. Elain who wouldn’t give Lucien the time of day. Elain who knowingly entered an unethical relationship with Azriel and flaunted it. Elain who barely glanced at the pearl earrings Lucien had bought her for solstice. She had the gall to claim him, after the way she treated him.   
“Take him?” I scoff. “You don’t even want him.” I shout back, the words coming off a little harsher than expected. 
“She’s right y/n, Lucien is her mate,” Azriel interjected looking down at me, as if this situation didn’t benefit him in every way. Gods he would just do anything to make that girl happy. 
“That’s deft coming from you shadowsinger,”  Lucien snickered disdainfully, cocking his head at the spymaster. 
Azriel bristled, “What's that supposed to mean?” he snarled. 
I put a hand on Lucien’s chest to get him to back down, “It doesn’t matter, we’re happy. Is it really your mission to make everyone in this court miserable but yourself Elain?”
“HEY!” Azriel barked, taking a step towards me, his shadows rising behind him. 
Before he can get a step closer Lucien grabs his arm, “Easy,” he hissed, but Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave my scared form. 
Never in my life had Azriel raised his voice at me in such a manner. While I wanted to say I was unphased, the outburst had scared me.  As soon as he noticed my reaction to his behavior, a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he quickly stepped back.
“You’re taking my mate, was there a way I was supposed to react?” Elain sneered just as snarky as ever, as if this was just a cat fight among the females. 
The red I saw turned to crimson as I realized once more what she was doing. She didn’t want Lucien because she loved him. She wanted him because she felt entitled to him, she wanted both of them. My mate and hers. 
“You take my mate, I’ll take yours!” I seethed the words spilling out of me like venom, unstoppable and poisonous to those in the room. 
Elain’s eyes widened and I realized that the secret that I had kept for 400 years had finally come out. My stomach dropped and my blood ran cold, the world around me fading away as I discerned what I had done.  
“What did you just say?” Azriel said in disbelief, my eyes flitted over to his. 
Anger and hurt flashed in his golden eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t know what to say. I had never prepared for this. 
“Azriel I-” 
“I’m your mate?!” he sneered, his voice tinged with malice.
 I felt a scarred hand grip my upper arm as if to winnow me away but Lucien was on Azriel in an instant gripping his arm right back. 
“Get your hands off my wife,” he growled, raising his own metaphorical hackles. 
“By the looks of it she’s not your wife yet. But apparently she’s my mate so I will handle her however I please,” Azriel said, getting up in Lu’s face, but to Lucien’s credit he didn’t back down.
It was as if after 400 years the bond snapped for Az. And every urge that came with that bond had snapped in place with it. The worst part of it all was that I didn’t know how to feel.   
“That may be true but I won’t allow you to touch her in anger,” Lucien stated glowering at the shadowsinger. 
Elain and I remained speechless and unmoving as Rhysand slid into the kitchen eyes ablaze at the scene before him. 
“What the fuck is going on?” he bellowed as he saw Azriel gripping me and Lucien gripping him. 
“It seems that Lucien has decided to wed my mate,” Azriel said with a smooth calm that sounded more like a warning shot. 
“You treat her as if she was-” Lucien snarled back before Rhys cut him off. 
“That’s enough!” he shouted and it was enough for both males to let go. “All of you get out of my sight and simmer down. We can talk about this when you can behave like adults!”
I think to protest my brother's orders, but he shoots me a glare so cold, so unyielding that I find myself sinking into Lucien’s embrace. I look to Azriel who wears his disappointment in me unnervingly well before winnowing both Lucien and I back home. 
to be continued...
Part 3
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lydiimae · 3 months
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Home.
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI
Based on a request you can find here <3
Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother, vaginal sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, praise, making love
A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦
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He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.
Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.
The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.
The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.
A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.
You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.
"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.
You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.
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You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.
It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.
And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.
In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.
Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.
"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.
Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.
You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.
You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.
You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.
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Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.
She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.
"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.
She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.
Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.
You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.
A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.
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He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.
When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.
The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?
Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.
The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.
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The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.
You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.
"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.
He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.
You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.
You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.
You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.
You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.
It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.
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After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.
You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.
He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.
"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.
"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.
"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.
"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.
"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.
He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.
"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.
Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.
He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.
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After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.
You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?
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You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.
Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.
You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.
You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.
"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.
He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.
He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.
He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.
"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.
He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.
He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.
"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.
He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.
He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.
Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.
Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.
"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.
He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.
You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.
"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.
"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.
You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.
He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.
He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.
You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.
You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.
You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.
The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.
That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.
After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.
"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.
Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.
You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.
He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.
Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.
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sunderwight · 5 months
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Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.
So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!
It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?
The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.
Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!
SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.
And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.
But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.
And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.
Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.
With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!
SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!
LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)��
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lovinglokilaufeyson · 2 months
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In Vino Veritas (In Wine, There is Truth) - A.A.
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Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav (Sorceress/Magic User)
Warnings: FLUFF (the sickeningly sweet kind). Angst. Insecure/Jealous!Astarion. Drunk!Astarion. Soft/Clingy!Astarion. Astarion is in his feelings. Love Confessions. BG3 Spoilers (Early Act I). Mutual Pining. Oblivious!Tav. Honestly kind of Sub!Astarion vibes. Not Proofread!
Wordcount: 2,589
Summary: After seeing you bonding with the other companions, Astarion is in deep with his emotions. This leads to him staggering off to a bar in a nearby town, and you go looking for him as you are worried about him. Once you find him, a confession of love spills from his lips unprompted.
A/N: Can vampires even get drunk? I’m not entirely sure, but that’s what this is about. This wasn’t a request, just something I was interested in writing. I haven’t written Astarion in this way before, but I think I like how it turned out. Thank you guys for all the love on my Astarion fics! I appreciate it immensely. Also, two posts in one day is kind of insane for me. Enjoy!
You weren’t always confident in yourself or your abilities. However, your recent adventures with Lae’zel, Astarion, and Gale have boosted your self-esteem. Gale had even approached you one night rambling about the “weave” and how he wanted you to experience it. You were able to conjure it with favorable ease, however you backed away once he had come onto you. Astarion stood in disgust as he watched the scene unravel. Gale was clearly attracted to you, and clearly wanted in your pants at one point or another. Astarion wouldn’t mind being in your pants either, at one point or another.
Secretly, Astarion envied your naivety, your ability to be fairly oblivious to many people’s advances. Heck, you didn’t even notice Gale’s constant passing glances until he was quite literally leaning in to kiss you, impressed by your ability to conjure the weave with little effort. You turned away nearly instantly, at least once you realized.
You were fairly friendly, which led a lot of suitors to believe that you were interested in them. Gale was no different. The wizard felt that you showed great potential, and he was impressed by your magical abilities. Initially, you believed this to be friendly behavior from Gale, but alas, he felt more for you than that. You had a difficult time turning him down, as you did with most. Gale wasn’t a bad guy, he just – wasn’t for you. Astarion had to spend some time alone after watching you and Gale bond. He felt a pain in his chest while watching the scene.
He was glad to find out that you had rejected Gale, which Gale had let him know (unprompted, of course) one night while out by the fire. Gale was working on his magic, Astarion was reading, and you were sleeping dreadfully well after the long day.
Soon after, you, Lae’zel, Astarion and Gale met Wyll on the way to the grove. You had a battle with the goblins and gained a new ally in Wyll. Unfortunately, Astarion had placed himself right in the midst of the conflict, leading him to take quite the beating. So, when Wyll offered to join the party, you felt it was obvious to have Wyll take his place. Lae’zel and Gale were in moderately good shape afterwards. “Fine,” Astarion spoke merely one word, then turned around in a dejected manner, slumping his way away from the group. When he glanced back, he saw Wyll laughing at something you had said, which caused the pain in his chest to worsen.
Astarion had to walk through a nearby town in order to get back to camp, which is where the mistakes began. He spotted a tavern, which looked acceptable – albeit rundown in comparison to the ones he frequented in Baldur’s Gate. The thought of alcohol to tame his present emotions didn’t seem so terrible. I mean, was he really that replaceable to you? If you were honest, the only reason you sent him away was because of how damaged he looked after battle. Part of you wanted to go with him, or at least offer, but he had walked away too quickly for you to even respond. You probably should have gone after him, instead you turned to your new companion in order to get acquainted.
Your mistake was recognized after you got back to camp last night – because where the hell was Astarion? All of his belongings were still around, but he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t bathing, but perhaps he could be hunting? It seemed fairly abnormal for him to just wander off. It was getting fairly late and Astarion still hadn’t arrived back at camp. You were getting worried.
“Has anyone seen Astarion?” You asked everyone who was still awake. The group shook their heads. You kept telling yourself that he probably just was out hunting. Yet something didn’t feel right.
“I’m worried about him, guys. I sent him back to camp and he’s nowhere to be found.” You commented, with Shadowheart being the first to respond. “It’s Astarion, Tav. It’s not like he’s known to be the most reliable, even in the few days we’ve known him.” Her fondness for you was shining through, and her almost envious tone showed her distain for your anxious thoughts about the pale elf companion.
You decided to backtrack on the path away from camp, the one that Astarion would have taken back, trying to retrace his steps. You hoped that he hadn’t collapsed somewhere, that was absolutely your worst fear. You couldn’t help but worry at the thought of losing Astarion. He had already been through so much - that you were incredibly aware of.
You wandered the dim, moonlit trail, hoping that you would find a sign of him anywhere. You peered through the forest trees, but with little avail. You thought about shouting out to him but thought better of it. You could attract someone – or something, rather, that you’d prefer not to. You decided to keep as quiet as you could.
You crept towards the nearby town. Given that the afternoon had far past, the only open facility was the tavern. It was old, but well-kept given its state. The building itself was made from stone, with a large oak wooden door at its front. It vibrated with livelihood from the activities of indoors. This tavern was likely the sole place in town where folks could go to have a decent time. Through the windows, you spotted various ages and races of people, all joined together in dancing, drinking, chatting, and even singing. You didn’t see Astarion, but you figured that asking surely wouldn’t hurt. Maybe they knew of his whereabouts.
The door creaked open as you entered, revealing the brightly candlelit interior of the tavern. The wood floors were certainly run down, likely from years of wear and tear and dancing upon them. Many eyes fell upon you when you entered. Your footsteps were light, but your presence was different for the townsfolk. You were new. Astarion had felt similarly when he moved into space, but they had become used to his presence by now. Not only that, but he had spent copious amounts of gold on drinks, which was certainly appreciated. You didn’t know that though, not yet.
The townsfolk had accepted your presence within a few moments of entering, with one muttering to another “she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” before gulping down more beer, then standing up to make a move on you. You were quite oblivious to this situation, moving steadily towards the barkeep, hoping she might be able to tell you of Astarion’s whereabouts, as you moved through the bar and still didn’t take notice of the elf.
“Eh, darlin!” You heard a man grunt at you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge him. The words almost hit your ears in just the right way, the eerie similarity to Astarion’s word choice was uncanny.
As you approached the bar, the barmaid approached you sweetly. She was an older lady with deep raven hair, likely had worked there for a substantial portion of time, perhaps even being the owner of the place. “Hi, dear. What can I get goin’ for you?” She inquired with a courteous smile. “Nothing quite yet for me. I’m looking for my friend, he’s an elf with white hair, he probably would have passed by here several hours ago.”
“Aw! You must be Tav! He wouldn’t stop rambling about you while he was here. I think he slumped over to the bathroom, we tried to sober him up, but he was lookin’ pretty sick.” The barkeep gestured to the doors in the corner, and you nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be back.”
You pushed your way through the patrons in order to place several knocks on the only closed door. “Astarion?” You raised your voice to ensure that he heard you over the music that boasted in the background. You leaned your head against the door, hoping to hear a response from him. You nearly fell as suddenly the door was replaced with air, and a stumbling Astarion approached you. “Darling!” He exclaimed. This new, puppy-like energy contrasted with his always stoic exterior. You went to scold him, about to go off about his selfishness in abandoning camp like that, but before you could, his rambling continued.
“Goodness, you look phenomenal. I can hardly take it.” You looked at him, creases forming on your face as your mind became more puzzled. Astarion was typically a flirty person, but this was different. For some reason, it seemed – sincere?
“Astarion, what are you doing here?”
“Well I got sad, so I decided to have a few – um – drinks.” His words slurred as they exited his lips, which did not promote truth in his sentence. “A few?” He nodded eagerly in response, and you grabbed at the fabric near his shoulder in order to tug him over to the bar. “Do you know how many drinks he’s had?” You asked the barmaid, hoping she could provide some insight. “In the double digits, certainly. Spent most of his time downing drinks and talking about your ‘delectability.’”
She responded as you took a deep breath. Astarion, who was lent up against your shoulder now, and could hardly maintain composure, brought an index finger to usher the woman quiet, pressing it against her lips. “SHHHH.” He spoke loudly, before she removed his finger in a swift motion. Astarion leant towards your ear, whispering “she’s just talking about how it’s more noticeable that I’m in love with you when I’m tipsy.” Your eyes shot open for the first time in hours. You had maintained heavy lids since post battle; however you hadn’t heard anything this shocking in weeks. You couldn’t help the way that your cheeks now sprouted a flushed, pink hue.
“You somehow get even cuter when you blush.” Astarion spoke, and you placed your head in your hands, which Astarion immediately tried to pull away “don’t, please, you’re so pretty.” You almost rolled your eyes, what if this was all some strange dream? Don’t get you wrong, there were many nights that you dreamt of the day that Astarion would approach you in this way, you just – didn’t think it would happen. You finally released your face from your hands and looked at the barmaid. “We’ll be leaving now, thank you.” You grabbed on to Astarion once more, tugging him towards the large oak door at the entrance.
“Someone’s in trouble!” One of the men shouted from across the bar at the scene. “I hope so!” Astarion shouted back, and you tugged him harder.
As the overwhelm was diluted by the calm of the outdoors, and your faces were hit by the cool air, you turned to face him.
“Astarion, what the hells is going on?” Your question was slightly louder than intended, especially since you had to raise your voice to be heard inside of the bar.
Immediately, you were faced with a pout on Astarion’s lips and dilated pupils as he gazed at you. “Please don’t be mad, darling.”
“I just want to know if you’re okay.” You responded, your features softening, which comforted him.
“I just-“ he stammered, having a difficult time finding the words. He looked back to you, seeing how patient you were, and he relaxed, with help from the alcohol that still coursed steadily through him. “you’re perfect.” For the second time tonight, your eyes widened like craters. You were nearly at a loss for words, but as you went to speak, Astarion interrupted you.
“Gods, Tav! Gale is entranced by you, Shadowheart has definitely caught feelings, Lae’zel wants you to give her bruises, and did you see the way that Wyll looked at you today?” He inquired, and you meagerly shook your head. “Not to mention I’m fucking in love with you! And I can’t even show it! I haven’t felt this way, like, ever, with anyone! And I’m fucking terrified, Tav!”
He gesticulated harshly as he spoke, his pent-up energy finally releasing. You moved towards him, holding your arms out, almost as an offering to him. He looked at you with soft eyes, then headed towards you himself, wrapping his arms around your waist, as yours fell across his shoulders. He relaxed into your touch, leaning his face to nuzzle in your neck. “Please don’t let me go.” Astarion pleaded.
“I won’t, Star.” You whispered into his ear, and you could feel him sigh in relief.
“I’m sorry I was jealous and upset.”
“Don’t be sorry for feeling the way you do, Astarion.” These words nearly brought a drunken Astarion to tears, but he was able to focus on the way you felt in his arms instead. You were able to convince him to cease the hug in order to walk back to camp, but he insisted that he needed to have a hand on you at all times to be assured that “you wouldn’t let him go.” So, it ended up with his hand intertwined with yours for the duration of the short journey back, along with him leaning on you to keep steady.
The rest of the companions were awaiting your return to camp and sighed in relief when you arrived. They were slightly surprised to see Astarion lent up against you, with your frame keeping him upright. Shadowheart seemed to roll her eyes in annoyance at the pale elf’s return, but was thankful you were alright, nonetheless. They stayed quiet, as it seemed more like an “ask questions later” type of circumstance. Since they now knew you were safe, they deemed it acceptable to retreat to their own tents for the night.
You teetered Astarion over to his own tent, facing him as he stared at you with puppy dog eyes. “You’ll stay?” He asked, and you looked at him with similar eyes. “Please?” He followed up, and you nodded. “Let’s go to my tent, though. Is that alright?”
“As long as I’m with you.”
You lead Astarion to your – somewhat more put together tent, with a larger bedroll that could fit the both of you situated on the floor. He stared in awe as he admired the colors within, it was actually quite cozy.
You put yourself in bed as normal, while Astarion seemed to stand with a blank look on his face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the tent, as if this was new to him. “You okay, Astarion?” You asked, and he nodded. “More than okay, actually.” He responded, and you smiled. You reached your arms out, beckoning him towards you “come here, then, sweet boy.” He grinned giddily, nearly diving into your arms.
-
Astarion woke up in the somewhat unfamiliar environment of your tent, with a throbbing headache. However, he realized that he was sprawled across your lap, and decided to be content in the fact that even though he didn’t remember a single thing about last night, he knew that he had wound up in the right place, in the right person’s arms.
You noticed he had woken from the fluttering of his eyelashes on your skin, and you brought your hand to his hair in order to play with it ever so slightly. “Good morning, handsome” you spoke.
“Good morning, darling. What in the hells happened last night?” He responded, turning towards you with a smirk on his face. “Did I get as lucky as I hope I did?” Sober Astarion was back, that was for certain.
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astonmartingf · 3 months
Text
STAY WITH YOU ; CS55
carlos sainz x fem!reader
. . . the budding emotions continue at a high as you spend more time with carlos, the real question is who will make the first move?
previous: situations
yourusername uploaded a new story
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[every time, he knows how to make an itinerary]
carlossainz55 replied to your story
i take it that you enjoyed our date and you definitely didn't regret meeting up with me?
hmmm
i wouldn't want to feed your ego any more but i guess i could say that you know how to work your way in my heart
is that you saying you want to go on another date with me?
take it whatever you will sainz, i don't have time for your teasing 🙄
HAHAHAHAHAHA you're annoyed again
i'll definitely take you out on another date
when are you free next?
i'll let you know
you never make it easy huh
doesn't matter, i'll be waiting for your message then
yourusername uploaded a new story
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[team bonding activities with mr. country club]
carlossainz55 replied to your story
i'm back to being mr. country club?
i thought we'd built a stronger relationship than that
wym?
you're my only mr. country club, i think we have more relation than others already
"my"
my my, staking claim over me already?
there you go again, you're twisting my words always carlos
i'm joking...
but i can't help but imagine you saying that to me, i'm flattered what can you say
i say you're full of shit
and who's fault is that?
you keep filling my head with these thoughts
i don't say things like that...
get your head out of the gutter
you keep complimenting me, it feeds the soul
you mean your ego
i'm not about to deny that you have that effect on me, it is what it is cariño
yourusername uploaded a new story
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[finally got to taste the infamous fluffy pancakes]
carlossainz55 replied to your story
i told you i make good pancakes
yes, yes
they are delicious
and isn't the shape amazing as well
...
don't act like i didn't see you hide the failed pancakes
they weren't heart-shaped that's why
you could've just given me the circle ones
i wanted to give you the heart ones
and how many heart pancakes were you able to make?
just the one in the picture 🥺
doesn't matter carlos
i'd eat whatever shape pancake you give me
i like you like that
carlossainz55 uploaded a new story
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[making me a run for my money, beat my race time]
charles_leclerc replied to your story
let us meet her now
it's about time
i'll think about it
i want time for myself right now
wow, you're serious about this
ofc mate, i like her like that
landonorris replied to your story
first is karting, second is paddock time
i swear what's preventing you from asking her out this time?
maybe i just need more time
okay now you're lying to yourself
i'm afraid if she doesn't want to be with me like that
WHAT? you're joking
i haven't seen you two irl but from what i see i don't think it's a one lane highway
you clearly like each other
well, wait for me to make my move ig
are you cooking something?
cooking what? i'm not cooking
you know i meant something else
never mind, go get it carlos
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[what can't he do?]
charles_leclerc replied to your story
ask you out 😁
literally shut up charles
i can't be silenced because i'm telling the truth
should i ask him out at this point?
what are you waiting for?
nothing really
then go for it
just don't forget to tell me first
carlossainz55 replied to your story
i ask myself too sweetheart
here we go again 🙄
did you get home safe?
you dropped me off right at my front door, i think that's as safe as it can go
how about you? are you home already, considering you're replying quite fast
i just arrived home
thank you for accompanying me tonight
no worries
it was definitely fun to see you sweat, and then go for a swim...
you enjoying the view?
yup
now rest and go to sleep
you really cut that conversation short...
because i know where it's going cariño
go to sleep carlos, or else
okay ma'am
i will sleep now
goodnight cariño
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[if he isn't my boyfriend after this, i'm actually asking him out myself]
charles_leclerc replied to your story
OOOOOHHHH
date night
exciting
shut up charles
tell me how it goes please
you're just nosy
okay and?
it's data gathering
whatever charles, now leave us alone
enjoy your date with your future boyfriend
don't forget to let me know okay?
message me the details
carlossainz55 posted a new video
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view comments...
user1 wait.... i've connected the pieces
user2 is this the girl from the summer fling?
user3 OMG WAIT! they're dating already 🥹🥹🥹
user4 anyone else IGNORNING THE FACT that it's CARLOS MF SAINZ???
charles_leclerc i thought i said update me yourusername now i see this on carlos tiktok feels illegal
carlossainz55 why am i hearing about this for the first time?
charles_leclerc what can i say, i just have the intel for that
yourusername you finish data gathering charles_leclerc?
user5 the girls are fighting
user6 rewatching the summer fling tt feels different now
user7 right??? like...
user8 wow, this was the result of the silly season last year
user9 they're so cute and then i remember the summer fling version of this and CRY EVERYITNM
yourusername i love you so much carlos and i very much so giggle and think about us all the time
carlossainz55 i'm glad i'm in your head rent free
yourusername 🙄🖕
carlossainz55 you love me amor ❤️
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artists-ally · 4 months
Text
{Confess Your Lust} Reader x Azriel
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You all can thank @riddlesb1tch for this. I have no regrets. It's just pure filth, but I know my whores like this 🥰 Rose this is all for you so you're the only one I care about liking it. Hope you all enjoy, title is from this song. highly suggest listening to while reading btw
Word Count: 4,682
Warnings: SMUT. Minor Dom/Sub concepts, bondage, degrading, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, Az is your pretty little good boy and you're gonna let him know ;)
Tagging: @riddlesb1tch @thelov3lybookworm @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars @cyrygher @berryzxx @thehighladywrites @xaithings
Summary: Azriel requested a very special birthday present. And who were you to tell him no.
~~~~~~~
“Cassian, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve gotten me a dagger for my birthday.”
“Yup,” he grins. 
“You know it’ll never suffice to Truth Teller, right?”
“An Illyrian can hope,” Cassian sighs, a relaxed smile on his face. “I know they all go in a drawer at the bottom of your dresser.”
Azriel rolls his eyes, but thanks his brother anyway. He appreciates them, but they hold no candle to the pretty piece of steel sat on his thigh.
Mor had gifted him a new pair of boots and a matching belt to go with them. They were of sleek leather, polished so well he could see his distorted reflection in the curve of the toe. He might have to set them aside for a special occasion so he doesn’t ruin them with training and missions. 
Rhys and Feyre gifted him a custom made weapons display case. It had racks and shelves for all his favorites, as well as drawers for the ones Cassian constantly gifted. It was complete with a throwing pad on the side to practice different strikes as well as a sharpening stone. He’d never admit to anyone but himself, but it made the back of his throat string. 
Amren promised him a night out at Rita’s, and coming from her it was quite generous. 
Buy my gift… it was something to be shared between my mate and no one else. They didn’t need to know the secret behind the look in my eye. It was waiting at our newly constructed home, just like I promised. Just like he had asked. 
“That’s it from us, I don’t see another one here,” Cassian looked around the rubble of discarded bags and decorative paper, not finding any other boxes. “Did Yn already give you hers?”
“No,” I said, sipping my glass of wine. “It’s back at the house. But he already knows what it is.”
“He does?”
“He does?” Azriel furrowed his brows, clearly not remembering the conversation the two of us had several months ago. 
Azriel sauntered into the dining hall, hands fisted at his sides, wings tucked in close. “Can I talk to you?”
The sudden spring of worry in his eyes made me put down my book, following him to a nearby couch to sit on. 
“What’s up, my love?” I asked tenderly, locking a piece of hair behind his ear. 
“If I asked you to do something for me- to me… would you?” 
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Az,” I cocked my head to the side, getting a better look at his eyes. Those wicked shadows blocked some of his tan skin, so I gently nudged them out of the way.
“I umm- I was thinking that we might change some things up. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about these things and I want them. And I want to see if you could want them too.”
“Okay,” I nodded, waiting for a response.
“I want to try using some toys. On me.”
Well, that is not where I thought this was going to go at all. Utterly shocked, but not opposed to the idea, I asked him to elaborate. And by the Cauldron did he. He went into detail of what he wanted, why he wanted it, how he wanted it… it sounded like a dream come true. 
“I’m so happy you told me about this. Yes, I’d be more than happy to fulfill these fantasies with you,” I smiled eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it special for you. Just like you did for me.”
Azriel still didn’t seem to get it, so I flashed a mental image down the bond, watching his brows unfurrow and raise up his face. It was almost ridiculous how far they went up. Nobody else said anything as they watched the interaction. 
“Oh.”
“Oh… what? What did she get you?” Rhys prodded his brother, Azriel not breaking our eye contact. I just smirked, winking in his direction before turning back to the wine. Mor spared me a curious glance, but I gave away no details. The others didn’t need to know what happened behind those closed doors. 
“Just something to play with later,” Azriel swallowed, throat working down and then back up. Only I would be able to note the change in his scent. “Time for pastries?”
I giggled as he deflected the question and moved onto another topic. It was another hour or so before anyone made a move to leave, but as soon as Cassian rolled out, his hands were all over me. 
“Are you being serious?” His hands were cupping my cheeks, a desperate plea to his voice. 
“Of course, my shadow. Go on up, get yourself ready. I’ll be up in a little bit, okay? Send word when you’re ready,” I instruct, moving out of his reach to begin cleaning up some of the mess left behind from the small party. 
“Won’t you come do it for me?” His strong arms wrapped around me, the soft scent of his wings wafting in the air. “I could really use your help.”
“I thought you wanted me to take control?”
“I do, that’s why I-”
“Didn’t I give you an order?” 
“Y-Yes, I just wanted-”
“Then go. Don’t make me ask again, Azriel.” 
“Yes my lady,” he obediently replied. I watched him go up the stairs, shadows lingering behind before darting after him. Once I heard the door click softly shut, I continued my work around the living area and the kitchen. I didn’t have any desire to be cleaning, I just needed to build up some tension. For this to work as he wanted to, I needed to do the unpredictable. Which would be really fucking difficult since he is basically progammed to know every turn and corner. 
I threw out trash, packed dishes in the sink, scrubbed them clean and put them away. About five minutes ago he sent a shadow curling my way, enticing me up towards the play room. I ignored the urgency of the call, deciding I’ll go when I want to. And he’s just going to have to wait. 
Azriel isn’t the most patient creature in this world, that’s for damn sure. 
Making him wait this long would be torture. 
Precisely how I wanted it to be. 
Finally, after another ten-ish minutes of stalling, I make my way upstairs. Purposefully being as loud as I can without stomping up the stairs. My heels click gently across the hard stone. As I near the door, I am hit with a wave of arousal coming from the room. It’s thick and tastes devine on the back of my tongue.
The sight of him sitting in the chair, wings facing me, arms ready and waiting behind his back is a marvelous sight. I can’t help but smile. He looks so pretty. 
“I thought you forgot about me,” Azriel said, a smirk in his tone. “Is it time for my present yet?”
“So impatient, all of you Illyrians,” I snorted, rolling my eyes as I made my way to the wall in front of him. Hung up, there were various toys and playthings. All could be used for pleasure or pain, depending on the mood. “You’ll get it when I say you do. Give me your wrists.”
I held the bundle of rope between my palms, stalking back over to Azriel in his chair. As I pass around to where his hands are locked behind his back, I make sure to tell him he’s allowed to safeword if and whenever he needs to. 
“I know, my love, thank you. I know you’ll take care of me,” he smiles gently, offering his lips.
“You asked to be overwhelmed, so I’m not going to stop unless you give me the word. I want you begging me to stop, remember? You’ll sound so pathetic and pretty when you whimper,” I smiled sickly sweet, pecking his lips with my own. “Ready?”
He gave a firm nod, hazel eyes locking on my body as I pulled away.
Back at the wall, I open the drawer in the chest, finding those two boxes I hid away weeks ago. How he never found them, I’ll never know, but I’m so glad. One was a vibrating cuff. The other was a dildo. 
After taking them out of the box and sanitizing them, I left them there for Az to see, but not to use yet. No, I wanted the anticipation to do the work for me. Rather than giving him what he wanted, I made my way over to him and trailed my fingers around his frame. 
Every flick of my finger sent goosebumps slithering across his skin. Up his neck… down his arms. That sensitive place between his wings twitched as I trailed through it, delicately applying pressure on the muscle. 
“Fuck, baby you… you can’t tease me like that.”
“I think I can do whatever I want,” I replied. “You are tied up at my mercy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Good boy,” I smiled, threading my fingers through his thick hair, latching onto his scalp. I pulled to the side, watching his body move with the force. His chest rose and fell, I could feel his heartbeat down the bond. Wicked. Powerful. Anticipating my next move. 
I slid into his lap, feeling just how much he needed me through his pants. I leaned just far enough away that he couldn't capture my mouth with his. He tried twice to kiss me, but each time I leaned away, a sick smile on my lips. 
Azriel scoffed, “I just wanted a kiss.”
“I know you do, but I didn’t give you permission, did I?” I mocked, leaning in closer and closer. “Your pleasure belongs to me tonight. I decide when you get what you’ve earned. And all you’ve done so far is complain that I haven’t given you anything. That’s not how good boys behave is it?”
I can see the fire in his eyes, those two sides of his personality fighting each other head on. This desire inside him to be taken care of, to be set free by my control versus that blistering need to be in control of everything. 
I’ll break him free with my bare hands if I have to. 
“Don’t be shy, my shadow. You can say it, it’s okay. No one can hear you besides me. Unless you want everyone to know just how much you need me.”
“I’ll behave,” he recites quickly. “Please.”
“Look at you, begging for it already,” I smirked, standing up from my place in his lap. He groans, cock clearly straining against the fabric covering his legs. 
I circle him. Like a predator to its prey. “You look so pretty tied up, my shadow.”
“When I asked you to play with me, I didn’t expect to be tortured.”
“Tortured?” I spun around to see his hazy eyes. “Oh, my sweet love, I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already begging? Don’t be so pathetic, Azriel. You can take more, can’t you?” I nodded his head for him, fingers fisted in his hair. “Yes you can, good boy.”
I quickly walked around to see his pink cheeks, heated with humiliation. I had no intention of going easy on him the first time. 
In a swift motion, I sheathed the blade at his thigh, cutting away his pants, leaving him just in his undershorts. He gasped, eyes going wide as roughly pulled them down his hips. “Y-Yn what are you-”
“Quiet,” I demanded. 
Azriel shut his mouth, panting heavily as I fisted his cock in my hand. His head tipped back in pleasure, and I almost let myself enjoy it for a second before I ripped my hand away. Those fierce hazel eyes were back on mine in an instant, silently begging for more. He made a wounded sound when I walked away, grabbing the vibrating cuff from the dresser. 
“Let’s play a game, okay? I put this on, and you aren’t going to cum. If you take it like the good boy I know you are, then I’ll give you something else to play with. If you cum… well, you’re just not going to stop.”
Azriel looks genuinely afraid. Like I might break him if I go through with this. I’ve never wanted to break something so badly just to put it back together again. 
I kneel in front of him, spreading his knees apart. I can see the generous amount of gel he’s used to work himself open for later. His body is glowing, vibrating with tension. I spit on his dick, enjoying the sight of him flinching as it hits his hot skin. 
Being extra agonizing, I blow some cool air on his tip to really watch him jump. I giggle, sliding the cuff over his length. The pale blue color is a stark contrast to his bright red skin. There is a button near the bass to turn it on and to switch the intensity. The gentle purr of the toy comes to life with a quick tap, and Azriel damn near falls out of the chair.
“Relax,” I say, forcing his knees down. I looked up at him, chest unmoving as he held his breath. “Breath Azriel.”
“I- I can-can’t,” he chokes. “Fuck Yn, it’s too much.”
“It’s only on the first setting, you’ll get used to it. In thirty seconds I’m going to put it on the next setting,” I warn, watching the way his body quivers slightly. 
My mates eyes are slammed shut, teeth clenched together. His cock gently pulses with the vibe, slick trickling down his shaft in a steady stream. To be a little extra mean, I run my tongue up the length.
“Oh gods Yn…” he pleads, head tossed back. His chest is on display, perfectly cut muscles constricting with every breath. 
“You’re being so good, Azriel,” I praise, relishing in the way his body relaxes into the words. “Just a little longer.”
I stand, walking to the corner of the room to the closet. I quietly wheel out the next part of his surprise, setting them aside for when I need them. When I come back, I notice the sheen of sweat lining his chest and torso. It glimmers in the low light, catching at all the right angles. 
I stroke my hands up and down his shoulders, working the tense muscles. He relaxes into my body and I travel further. Over his chest, over his abs, down his thighs. When I reach his cock, I press the next button and turn up the intensity. 
Az growls. In a way I’ve never heard him before. He curls in on himself, kicking his feet against the floor. 
“Don’t act like you don’t love it, Azriel. I know you want to be my good boy and take your birthday present so well. You’re gonna take it until I tell you you’ve had enough.”
“It feels so good,” he moans. His thighs are shaking, his cock flushed almost purple. “M-More.”
“And now you’re begging for it? Gods, Az you are so easy for me. I’m sure if you'd found this before tonight, I would’ve caught you with it, huh? So fucking desperate.” I can’t help but tease him, he makes it so easy. And he is being so good for me, why not give him what he wants? “You asked for more, Azriel.”
I click it up another notch, watching the way it sends shock waves through the muscles in his thighs and abs. He’s open-mouth panting now, unable to take a breath without whining. He starts shaking his head back and forth, eyes blinking rapidly. 
“You’re not allowed to cum, Azriel. I didn’t give you permission.”
My reminder makes him sob. “Please, please Yn. Fucking please let me cum. Fuck I-I can’t- Yn I can’t-”
“You’re going to,” I demand, pushing the hair out of his face. “Because I told you to. You wanna make me happy, right? I won’t be happy if you cum. You don’t wanna disappoint me, do you?”
He shakes his head no rapidly, sweat dripping down his face. 
“Then don’t cum. It’s not that hard.”
Azriel cries out, the noise coming deep within his chest. He tries to cross his legs to relieve the pressure, but I force them to stay open. He shakes and writhes, wings slanted behind his back in a mess of shadows. He cannot sit still, but I don’t reprimand him for it. 
The room is filled with the sound of his harsh breathing and the hum of the vibrator. It’s filled with the scent of his sweat and breath. 
“Yn- Yn turn it off.”
“No.”
He curses, a colorful menagerie falling from his wet lips. “Please please please please please please.”
The sound of him begging, truly begging, makes me grin in a sinister way. This is exactly how I wanted him. A whimpering, desperate mess for me to play with. 
I turn it off. 
Azriel blows out a breath, body still writhing. His cock stands tall, a deep shade of maroon. I know one flick of my tongue would send him over the edge. And having that kind of power over him feels incredible. 
After letting him rest for a second, I decide it’s time for some real fun. I pluck the dildo off the dresser and stand in front of Azriel, waiting for him to look up at me. When those hazel eyes meet mine, they’re glassy and full of pleasure. Almost too much. He looks drunk with his cheeks so rosy and ears flaming red. He looks so adorable all fucked out like this. 
“Stand,” I commanded, watching the words register on his face. 
His knees tremble, but he manages, stretching his taught legs. The sight of him shaking so vividly would normally scare me. But right now it's… it's beautiful. I made him this way, and this ache between my legs couldn't be stronger. 
The cup on the end suctions to the metal chair when I place the dildo down. “Sit.”
“Yn-”
“Sit,” I snapped, eyes hardening. Azriel swallowed, looking from me to the chair and back. “Don’t make me ask again. I told you to sit. So sit down. Now.”
He turned back around, standing above the chair. Slowly, incredibly slowly, he lowered himself to the chair. His arms were bulging against the ropes, veins running along his biceps throbbing with his pulse. But he sits. All the way down. 
With a proud smile, I drink in the way he sits. It's so rigid. His chest barely moves with his quick breaths. His eyes are screwed shut. 
“Azriel,” I taunt, my voice sickly sweet. “What's got you breathing so hard, hmm? Are you in too much pleasure? Does it feel too good?”
His mouth gapes open, but he doesn’t say anything. 
“You’re at a loss for words with how good you feel. So fucking pathetic, completely fucked out the first time you’re taking a toy?” I click on the vibrator again, starting at level two. He thrashes, then grunts, tossing his head back. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good boy. You’ve been pleasing me so much, Azriel, did you know that? You’re making me so happy. Keep being a good boy and I’ll let you cum.”
“Yn…” he breathed, head falling back to meet my eyes.
“What do you need, my shadow? More? You want more?” He shakes his head no, but remains silent. “You can do better than a pitiful shake of your head. Tell me what you want, Azriel.”
“Yn… Yn…” he chants, my name a plea of desperation. It's airy and full of need. 
“That’s it, baby. Tell me what you need, I promise I’ll give it to you.”
With bleary eyes, he looks at me. “Please let me cum.” 
The words are broken and a little slurred, but he told me what he needed. So I’ll give it to him. 
“Such a good boy, Azriel. Telling me how much you need to cum. I’ll make sure you do, baby. Just keep taking it for me. You’re doing soooo good.”
I kept talking to him, praising him for how good he’s taking everything I’ve given him. Azriel is babbling and pleading like a total whore. While he drones on and on, I wheel out the surprise I set in the corner. Three long, vertical mirrors are set around him so he can see every angle of his perfect body. 
So he can watch himself come undone without me even touching him. 
“Azriel, look at me baby,” I commanded. He settles his gaze on me, then the mirrors. “Don’t you think you look so pretty?”
The way his body slumps in the chair sent chills down my spine. He spread his legs, admitting the cuff constricting his cock. Azriel pushes on his toes lightly, bobbing up and down on the dildo. “Fuck I- Yn I look so…so-”
“I want you to keep your eyes locked on the mirror. Don’t look at anything but yourself. This is all for you, take it all in, my shadow. Enjoy watching yourself fall apart for me.”
Azriel nodded. 
I circled him slowly, amused at how… delicate he looked despite the harsh reality of his current fate. He was tied up, more vulnerable than ever. And yet he looked so sweet and simple. And devastatingly ruined. 
At the first touch to the leathery material of his wings, Azriel jumped. He shouted and swore. 
“Relax, Azriel.”
“I can’t handle it when you touch my wings, Yn. I’m not gonna be able to hold on,” Az pleads. I touch him again in the same spot. He shudders and grits his teeth. “Yn please.”
“Eyes on yourself, Azriel.”
With a deep, controlled breath, he pulls his eyes back to the mirrors. As I touch and explore the most sensitive parts of him, he twitches in every direction, effectively screwing himself further on the dildo. I take the curve of my nail and trace a vein running in his wing. Fibers in his muscles seize. 
In the mirror, I can see the cuff working nicely. His chest is coated in sweat and it takes all my strength to not run my tongue from the tip of his cock to the base of his throat. Instead, I continue to tease his wings. 
Azriel has this one specific spot right at the base of his wing that drives him insane. The moment I begin to move my hand, he begins to moan uncontrollably. He begs and whines and begs again for me to make him come. 
“Are you watching yourself, baby?” I ask, locking eyes with him in the mirror. When he nods, eyes cast down at his body, I stroke his wing. Twice. And tears spill down his face. 
“F-Fuck Yn I need to cum. I need to cum, fuck PLEASE let me cum please please please,” Azriel chants like I’m a long forgotten god. As if I would be able to grant all his wishes and desires. And it fills me with a fire I’ve never felt before. 
“You’ve been such a good boy, Azriel. Go ahead. You can cum, let go.” 
The second I gave him permission, he came. His whole body convulsed with the force. His legs and torso shivered, ecstasy pouring out of him with every whine and curse. 
“Fuuuucccckkkkk,” he mewls, watching his cum slide down his cock, spreading over his thighs. The cuff keeps vibrating, drawing out his pleasure. “Turn it off turn it off turn it off-”
“Don’t you wanna see how far you can go? You look so pretty when you cum, I could keep watching you forever, my dear. Why don’t you do it again, okay? You’ve earned it, go ahead and cum for me, just once more.”
His whole body is flush, the same beautiful color as his aching cock. He strains against the ropes and for a minute I think he’s going to break free. But he falls slack, a steady wave of whimpers as the cuff continues to drain him. The flow of it never stops. 
After a few more seconds to enjoy the show for myself, I turn off the vibrator. I gently slide it off, the majority of his seed landing on my fingers. I make a bog show of licking it off for him. 
Azriel is lost in his mind somewhere when I begin to undo the ropes. I massage his shoulders, working blood back into his extremities. 
“You did such an amazing job, my love. I am so proud of you, I hope you had as good of a time as I did.”
Azriel stayed quiet, but he nodded his head, gulping down air. He was shaking, but judging by the way the bond felt, he felt nothing but euphoria. I had done exactly what I was asked, and he loved it. 
While I kneaded his shoulders, kissing up and down his back, he recovered. While I was strong, I wasn’t strong enough to lift a fully grown Illyrian warrior and carry him to the bathroom. Currently, he’s in no condition to move under his own volition, so we’ll take our time until his strength is restored. 
“I love you so much, Az. My beautiful, strong mate. You did such a good job, such a good boy for me.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, a lazy smile on his lips. “Love being your good boy.”
“You are, you did so fucking good Azriel. It was so hot watching you cum like that,” I smiled, kissing his forehead, then his lips when he pursed them to me. “Feeling good enough to get to the bathroom? The tub is waiting, ready for you.”
My mate nodded, “Only if you’ll come in with me.”
Giggling, I slung his arm over my shoulder. “Of course I will. Stand up slowly, take your time. I’ve got you.”
With a few hisses as he stood up off the chair, wings splaying out to help him keep his balance, I guided him to the bathroom. He could stand just… not super well. We stumbled, but made it to the tub in one piece. I left him to climb in as I stripped, adding some salts to the bath. 
“I don’t care about that, just get in, my love.”
Illyrians, not known for their extended patience, but they are known for their incredible brutality and bravery.
As well as their wingspans. 
Before he could yank me in with my clothes on, I swept them away with a flick of my hand and climbed in. Azriel guided me to sit in his lap, face to face. His warm, scar-flecked hands caressed my body. It wasn’t in a particularly sexual manner, but I was far too turned on to not let a whimper slip. But he didn’t smirk or crack a teasing joke, he just continued to roam my body. 
It seemed to calm him, the edges of ecstasy fading away from the bond one strand at a time. His heart rate slowed and that glaze over his eyes faded away. 
“Feeling okay?” I asked, stroking my hands up and around the tattoos on his shoulders and chest. 
“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Just… wow. My body feels so tingly.”
“Now you know how I feel when you make me cum multiple times.”
Azriel smiled, sending my heart tumbling in my chest. “Guess I should be a bit more gracious with you, shouldn’t I? Considering now you have what you need to retaliate.”
“I think you’d like it if I retaliated,” I grin. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Good time? I’ve never felt so satisfied in my whole life. Thank you for giving me that experience.”
I smiled so wide it hurt. “Of course, my shadow. But the next time you want to have a ‘new experience’, don’t hesitate to wait so long to tell me.”
“I promise,” Azriel whispers, cupping both sides of my face with his hands. Our foreheads lean in together. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
609 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 9 months
Text
There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:
He is dreaming.
It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.
He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.
He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.
"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.
We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.
We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.
"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.
"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"
"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."
"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.
Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."
"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"
Are you ready to play?
Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."
The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."
(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)
The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.
"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.
Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.
"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.
When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.
Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--
I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.
Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.
Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?
Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.
Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."
"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.
"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.
"What?" Martyn says.
We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?
"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.
Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.
Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.
"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."
"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"
It's your bet.
"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"
You're no fun.
Is that what you really want?
"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."
"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"
"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."
The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.
Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--
"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.
"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."
"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.
"Please," Grian says.
The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.
Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.
He stares at the numbers.
Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."
The dealer nods.
"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.
If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.
Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"
"Why?" Martyn says again.
Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.
"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"
Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.
The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.
The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.
The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.
"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"
"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."
Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.
"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."
Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.
Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.
"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."
Two of spades.
He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.
"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.
The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--
The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.
Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.
Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.
The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--
"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"
THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.
(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)
YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.
There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.
AND THAT IS ME.
Martyn stares Death in the eyes.
Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.
He does not sleep again for a long time.
975 notes · View notes
cherriesformatt · 4 months
Text
a day || matt sturniolo
Tumblr media
matt x fem!reader
summary: what would a typical day as Matt's girlfriend would look like
warnings: pure fluff
word count: 1,6k
a/n: idk let me know how I did English is not my first language but I am working on it
🍒
I was on my way from a long, Friday, morning meeting and all I was thinking about was going back to bed and never leaving it again. My week started with my car breaking down out of nowhere, then I got my period (which is not as bad when you think about it because it would be worse if I didn't get it), and then I had an actual meeting, in an actual office, with actual people (I usually work from home in my pajamas). 
I had to drive my boyfriend's car to the meeting downtown. I am glad that I could, but let me tell you one thing, my boyfriend's car is giant and to park this lady downtown I needed to leave 30 minutes early. 
chris 🦋:
waiting for u outside thx for picking me up kid ❤️
"oh fuck" I said to myself as I quickly did a U-turn before it was too late. Was it safe? No. Did everyone survive? Yes.
I totally forgot that I was supposed to pick up Chris from his own meeting since Matt couldn't because I had their car. I dialed Chrise's number.
"hi, ur okay?" he asked. 
"yes, I just might or might not forgot to pick you up so I'll be there in 15 okay? I'm sorry I had a rough morning..." 
"Bro no worries I'll pick up some coffee while I wait and you drive safe okay?" I smiled because wasn't he the best? He doesn't even drink coffee. 
"Okay I'll see you there"
I ended the call and typed Chris's location. It wasn't that bad with the traffic so I was there in less than 15 minutes. 
I was able to park where he was waiting so he got into the passenger seat and smiled at me while I started driving again. I really want to be home. 
"I would say good morning but I'll keep that to myself. Got you an americano and banana bread" He put my coffee in the cup holder and threw his backpack on the back seat. 
"Thank you, that's really sweet, I am literally half dead so that will help" I laughed and took a sip of my coffee. 
"I still think that my brother is dating a weirdo, how can you even drink it black and unsweetened?" Chris looks at me with a disgusted face. 
"You are all literally bunch of weirdos so I just matched the energy you know" I blinked at him and stopped on the red. 
"How was your meeting? New fresh love is gonna be fire. I got the drafts in my mail this morning. Did not change a thing. You and the team did great" I said and smiled at him. 
I was a graphic designer and helped Chris at the beginning of his brand, but I did not really want to work for him so I just help sometimes if it's needed. I am really happy that he still likes to know what I think about the projects tho. I also used to work for Laura but not anymore. That's basically how we all met. I quit after me and Matt started to be a thing. 
"I know right? Well, I knew you will love it. The meeting was great, we should be able to make everything work by the end of the month. And guess what... I actually got samples and I have a pink set for you kid" 
"Honestly... made my day, I am going to wear it for everything now" I laughed.
"Just don't post it yet" He said and started to click things on the car's screen.
"Just use my phone for music" I gave him my phone and he typed my code and put our favorite song by lil skies on. 
"Still can't believe I memorized Niall Horan's birthday just to get to your phone" 
I blinked at him and started rapping with the song. I loved make a toast. Music taste is probably one of the things that made my and Chris's bond strong. Don't get me wrong I love Nick as much as I do Chris, but he just always gets me and we were best friends since day one. The funny thing is that me and Matt did not really liked each other at first. 
The ride home made my mood better. We sang and laugh, I wasn't tired of my life that much anymore. I took my shoes off while holding all of my stuff. Matt was on the couch watching something while we made our way up the stairs. 
"Hi baby... How was it?" He asked as soon as he saw me.
"Crap, I am going to call Laura to take me back" I laughed and put my stuff on the table and went to wash my hands in the kitchen sink. I then walked up to Matt and just threw myself next to him to cuddle his side. 
He kissed my forehead and started to rub my back. 
"I am going to take a nice nap, you kids have fun but not too much" Chris waved at us and went back down the stairs to his room. 
Matt rolled his eyes and kissed my head again. 
"How about we do something nice together? Nick is going to come home with Madi soon, I think, and that means laud. We could go to that beach you like and just get food and watch the sunset later" He asked.
All I was thinking about was his cold hand on my back and how much I just loved that man. He knew exactly what I needed.
"Yes, please. I just need to change. I wore a bra man, can you believe this?" I sit back up. 
He laughed at me and shook his head. 
"Go then," He said patting my thigh. 
I went to put my new fresh love set in Matt's bedroom, used the bathroom and when I was ready we went out.
"Wow, so it's your car now, huh?" Matt started to change the mirrors and seat but he also raised his eyebrows looking at my stuff next to the shift gear. 
"Baby it's only essentials to drive, okay?" I smiled and got comfortable in the passenger seat. 
We drove to get food and dessert. The weather was perfect to just spend an entire afternoon on the beach. Boys did not have any work plans today so I knew Matt was all mine for the rest of the day.
We sat on the beach, had our food, and just talked or cuddled in comfortable silence. That's what I mostly love about spending time with Matt. We could just sit the whole day without a word and be alright with it, but also we could talk for hours and we would always have something to talk about.
"I love you Matty, thanks for taking me to the beach. This new project sucks but I know it's going to be better after that. I really needed just you today" 
I kissed his sweet lips. He tasted like the cherry Pepsi that we just had. He pulled me into his lap and slid his hands under my hoodie while he kissed me back. 
I rested my forehead on his as I pulled away and smiled. 
"Anything for my girl, I love you kid" He kissed my nose and I just wrapped myself around his body.
"I am not moving, you might as well carry me to your car like this" I said into his neck. 
He laughed at that and hugged me back.
"Or we can just stay here" He lay back down on the blanket. 
"I promised your brother that we are going to watch Criminal Minds with him tho" I said.
"Sometimes I just wish you and Chris weren't the same person y/n..." He joked and looked at his phone, holding it above my head.
"Let's go back after sunset in that case baby"
We did watch the sunset, my favorite part of the day. We came back home and spent time with his brothers as I had promised Chris. 
"Spend the night?" Matt whispered in my ear while the last episode for tonight ended. 
I smiled and nodded. I was off tomorrow and did not want him to drive me home that late anyway.
We said goodnight and went to his room. 
"I will go take a shower" I said and opened his drawer to take a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. 
"Go ahead, I went shopping while you were gone. I did restock your basket under the sink. I hope I did it right" He scratched his neck looking at me.
I had my stuff here, but I usually did the restock. Especially my period stuff under the sink.
"Matt...you did not have to do that, thank you, baby" I said pouting my lips.
"I wanted to, I want you to feel comfortable here. Not only you tho, all our girlfriends that come to our house. It's great that you did the basket and stuff" He smiled and I kissed his cheek.
"You are too sweet Matthew"
I went to the bathroom, when I was done he went to take a shower while I waited in his bed scrolling on TikTok.
When Matt came back from the bathroom I looked at him. He was wearing just his pajama pants. 
"Should I just say what all of the girls in my books would say? Matthew, you are such a tease" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"Oh my god, would you stop?" He got into bed laughing at what I said. 
"You love me for that" I put my phone on the nightstand and rested my head on his chest.
"Goodnight Matt" I closed my eyes.
He turned the lights off and tucked us in with the blanket. 
"Goodnight sweet girl" He kissed my head while I was already half asleep after this long day.
The best way to end the day is knowing that I will wake up in his arms the next morning. 
450 notes · View notes
flowercrowngods · 1 year
Text
it’s steddie yearning hours
🤍 also on ao3
It’s a little fucked up, maybe, the way Eddie can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Steve‘s sleeping form. He’s a sight to behold — curled up on his side, making himself as small as he can; his hair is a mess, hiding his face from the world but not from Eddie, not quite. The room is dark except for the light of the lamps outside that comes in through the blinds, landing right on Steve, and Eddie thinks how fitting it is that Steve would be found by the light even in total darkness. He would be found and unaware of it.
And Eddie Munson is left to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest like that would save his heart, keep it where it is, keep it for himself. He shouldn’t be looking at Steve like that. Not when they’re hardly even friends, not when what they have is only remnant of a world ending. A world saved. A world forever changed.
He sighs, leaning his whole weight against the frame, clenching his fists in his t-shirt, doing everything to stop himself from stepping closer to the bed, running fingers through Steve‘s mess of hair, brushing lips to his forehead and climbing in bed with him.
The doorframe holds his weight, his sanity, his heart, and Eddie slides down with another heart sigh that the poets would have called wistful. Yearning. Longing and belonging.
He hits the ground and hopes that it would break the haze. But nothing can. There’s a heaviness inside him that makes it hard to breathe and leaves him wishing that Steve weren’t in his bed, in his heart, in his life. Not like this.
He wants to be friends with Steve. Real, actual friends. People who don’t have to hold each other through nightmares, people who go to the arcade together and make fun of each other. Who exchange their favourite tapes and go on trips together.
He doesn’t want to be bonded to him by trauma and horrors unimaginable alone. He wants to fall in love slowly, gently, wants the secret smiles and the fluttering inside his chest that he overheard the girls at school talking about.
He wants another chance with Steve. Another try. Without monsters, without death and dying, without saving and being saved. He wants Steve Harrington to choose Eddie Munson for who he is, not for what they went through.
He wants Steve to choose. To have a choice.
Breathing through a lump in his throat has become second nature to him lately, and he finally looks away from this boy that has yet to drop the other shoe on Eddie.
After who knows how long, Steve stirs, stretching with an adorable little groan until he stills, his eyes on Eddie. He can feel them. He doesn’t look up to meet them, can’t be responsible for whatever Steve would find in his eyes.
“Hey,” he hears, Steve’s voice incredibly soft despite the rasp of disuse that’s marking it.
Eddie shivers a little and finally looks up. “Hi.” A beat. You’re beautiful. “Sleep well?”
“Mm-hmm,” Steve nods, yawns again, then curls up some more on his side, scooting over to the edge of the bed so he can better see Eddie. “How long was I out for?”
Two hours, forty-eight minutes. “‘Bout two and a half hours,” Eddie says, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen. “There’s dinner. If you’re hungry.”
He’s holding his breath, shallow as it is, because his lungs cannot be trusted around Steve anymore. Not with the way he smiles every time Eddie makes dinner. Not with the way he hides said smile behind the blanket a little bit, like he doesn’t want Eddie to see, like he can’t believe he’s smiling in the first place.
Eddie wants to get up and hold him. Trace that smile with his fingers. Make it stay.
What are we doing, Steve? What are you still doing in my life? Why did you make yourself a home like it’s worth staying here?
Slowly, still a little clumsy from his prolonged nap, Steve gets up with the blanket in his hands and drops it on Eddie’s lap. Must have mistaken his shivers for being cold. Then Steve steps over him, ruffles his hair as he does, and Eddie wants to cry a little bit at the way Steve snickers at it. He’s ridiculous. Eddie is ridiculously gone for him. It hurts more than it should.
“You hungry, too?” Steve asks, fingers finding Eddie’s hair to comb through the curls he just messed up. Eddie doesn’t have it in himself to move his head, to put a distance between them, to confront Steve about what this is, what they’re doing, what it all means.
All he does is nod — slowly, so Steve’s fingers stay where they are. They do. Eddie pinches his own fingers to stop from reaching out and snatching Steve’s hand, bringing it to his lips, making him stay. Stay here. Stay in his life forever. Stay and never realise that there’s no reason for him to do that.
He meets Steve’s eyes even though that’s dangerous business. “Starving.“
Steve’s face does this thing again. That thing where he softens so visibly, his eyes shining a little, his lips twitching into both a smile and a frown. It’s mortifying. It’s liberating. It’s being seen by Steve.
“You didn’t have to wait, Eddie.” His voice is soft. Chiding and grateful all at once, and Eddie’s heart flutters.
“I know,” he shrugs, and that’s that because he bites his tongue. I wanted to. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait.
Steve huffs and then he’s gone, rummaging around in the kitchen before he reappears with two plates of lasagna in his hands. Instead of asking Eddie to come join him at the table or settling back in bed, Steve hands one plate to Eddie and then slides down the other side of the doorframe so they’re face to face, their thighs pressed together. It’s a tight fit, but their bodies are angled just so, making this as comfortable as it gets.
It’s one of the first things they figured out together, sitting in the door like this. Wayne comes home sometimes to find them like this, even joined them on some occasions. Just to talk, just to be there.
Steve reaches over to grab the blanket again, draping it over both their laps, and Eddie shoves a large forkful of lasagna into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid.
What are we doing? When does it end? When is the last time I get to sit with you, share my blanket with you, get you to eat my lasagna? Tell me; just tell me so I can prepare. Tell me you won’t stay so I can stop dreaming.
They eat in silence and Steve’s eyes are on him for most of it, but Eddie doesn’t look up. It’s heavier tonight, heavier than usual. Heavier because Steve’s cheeks are streaked with the imprint of Eddie’s pillow, heavier because his hair is a wild mess, heavier because Eddie wants to breathe him in and hold him forever.
But Steve is awake, and they only hold each other when they have a nightmare. Because that’s why they are in each other’s lives. There is no room for feelings, for romance, for yearning when their smiles only exist to keep each other alive.
“Are you okay, Eddie?” Steve whispers, his plate empty while Eddie barely touched his own, too busy not looking at Steve that he forgot to be a person in the process. It’s nothing new, really, but he’s gotta get a grip.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
See, that’s the thing about Steve. He always gives you two chances to say something. The first try for all those impulse answers, the things you wish for yourself, the hand wave of dismissal. And then the second chance without judgment.
And Eddie loves him. Can’t lie to him again, so he just shrugs. His second chance not yet taken. Steve bumps their knees and Eddie’s eyes water. He eats his lasagna with stinging eyes and slightly shaking hands, because Steve can’t know. But Eddie might explode if he doesn’t.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
And, see, that’s another thing about Steve Harrington and the way he sees you. He knows Eddie hates being still, can’t talk when he’s sitting down. Can’t talk about anything meaningful when the world is quiet and dark and still.
Steve knows what Eddie needs. And it’s a little fucked up, maybe, but Eddie knows that Steve secretly needs it, too.
And he should say no. Should swallow his emotions, his thoughts, his fears, his aching and yearning and longing and belonging, should swallow it all and smile it away, bump his knee into Steve’s and propose they watch a movie together.
But he doesn’t. He can’t swallow tonight, not when there’s a lump in his throat, not when Steve is so warm against him, not when—
“Okay,” Steve smiles, climbing to his feet. “Let me go get ready, you finish your lasagna. Can I, uh. Can I borrow a sweater?”
“You know you don’t gotta ask.”
Another smile and he ruffles Eddie’s hair again. It makes his heart jump. “Thanks, man.”
“Of course,” Eddie whispers, barely audible, and not for Steve’s ears, just for his own need to say something. Anything. To make this real.
Ten minutes later, Eddie closes and locks the trailer door beside him and they start walking. The night is quiet even though it’s only just past eleven, and it’s a tad colder than Eddie expected. Beside him, Steve sticks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, fluffing up the hood of Eddie’s sweater so it covers his neck from the light breeze. Feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Steve smiles and cocks his head down the street.
“Shall we?”
Eddie only hums but sets the pace. They’re both looking down at the ground, neither of them really caring where it is they’re going. It’s not about getting anywhere, it’s just about moving. Walking. Talking without looking at each other, finding excuses and answers in the night sky and the swaying treetops.
They walk in silence for a good half hour before Eddie finds his courage, his words, his peace with the possible answers. The night can cover for him and convince the daylight of little white lies that sound a lot like, I’ll be fine.
“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?”
Beside him, Steve’s steps falter a little. Maybe he didn’t expect Eddie to talk after all. “Do what?”
“This, I don’t know,” Eddie sighs, opening his arms to indicate the entirety of his life, really. “Sticking around. Staying.”
Steve frowns a little but he keeps his steps in sync with Eddie’s. That’s the whole point of their little nightly walks. No stopping, no looking, no seeing.
“Do you not want me to?”
God, how he wants Steve to stay! But also… Not like this. Not like he thinks Eddie might break if he leaves. Which Eddie will. But it shouldn’t be what makes Steve stay.
And there’s no way to say that. So all he does is shrug.
There’s a little pained noise from Steve, and Eddie scrambles for words that evade him, truths that make him too vulnerable, too real, too much.
“Okay,” Steve says after a while, and he sounds so small when he does. Eddie looks over and sees him pinching the bridge of his nose, nodding slowly, his mouth opening and closing with words unsaid. “Do you… Should I go home?”
Maybe you should, Eddie thinks. Get back to people you can be friends with; real friends.
“Maybe,” he says, slowing to a stop, looking away from Steve. “But I don’t want you to.”
“I… Okay? I don’t—“ Steve sighs and stops as well. “If it bothers you that we’re friends, then you can just—“
“Are we?” Eddie interrupts him, wincing at the way his own voice sounds. “Are we?” he repeats, quieter this time, opening up the question to honesty and vulnerability rather than disbelief and challenge.
Steve frowns again, confused, and Eddie remembers why they don’t do this in the quiet of his room; why they don’t do this while looking at each other. He can’t look at Steve and ask these questions. It’s too much.
So he turns and keeps walking, following the familiar road they’re on. Steve follows, a bit behind, and it leaves Eddie feeling horribly alone.
“You know,” Steve says after a while, scoffing, sighing, breathing until he tries again. Eddie waits. Here comes the other shoe. It’s finally there. “You know, I should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t really stop hurting when people keep questioning your intentions. With the kids, I kinda get it. There’s, like, years separating us. I get it when they’re hesitant to call me their friend.
“And with Robin, you know, she spent weeks after Starcourt just waiting for me to drop her. To be like, ‘Alright, thanks, it was good while it lasted but you’re an actual nerd and I don’t care for that shit at all.’”
Steve laughs and Eddie frowns, No laugh should sound so hollow.
“I had no idea she was so obsessed with the idea of me leaving her. She didn’t trust that I would stick around, that I actually loved her, that she’s my best friend and— God, she… I just, I don’t get it, y’know?”
Steve turns around because Eddie’s steps had slowed while Steve sped up, and Steve is walking backwards with his hands in his pocket, looking at Eddie with a hurt, confused expression.
“And now you’re telling me you don’t want me to stay and that I should go home, but that you don’t want me to do that either? You’re asking me if we’re friends, Eddie? What the hell else would we be? I’m…” He shakes his head and spreads his arms. “What do I have to do for anyone to believe me I just wanna spend time with them because they’re cool and I feel really fucking good being around them?”
Eddie doesn’t wanna look at Steve, but he can’t look away either. They’ve stopped again, a few feet apart, and Steve looks so open, ready for Eddie to answer, to tell him, to talk, when all Eddie wants to do is run away. Run to him. And he can’t do either. Can’t tell him.
“It’s not that,” he says lamely.
He gets to watch as Steve’s face scrunches up, crumbles, and then falls until there’s nothing left. His expression empty.
“I’m going home now, Eddie.”
“Why?”
Steve shakes his head and swallows. “Because I’m hurt. And confused. And I don’t wanna talk anymore, not when you don’t.”
And with that, Steve turns around. Walks down the road, disappearing into darkness until the next street light catches him. Attracting light even in darkness.
And Eddie breaks finally. He runs down the street, halfway catching up with Steve until he’s close enough to make sure the other boy can hear him.
“I’m terrified,” he says, making Steve stop. He doesn’t turn around yet, but it’s enough for Eddie to keep going. “I’m so fucking terrified that you only think you have to be my friend because we nearly died together. Terrified that you’ll leave because this thing between us is so heavy, loaded with trauma and memories. I’m terrified that you won’t come over anymore one day, that you’ll be done, that you’ll find friends that are not bonded to you like I am. Or like the kids and Robin and the rest are. I’m… Stevie.”
His voice breaks a little and he approaches Steve’s form, the light catching in his hair, making Eddie feel like a moth on his way to the flame.
“I wonder if we’re friends not because I doubt you. It’s because I know I have nothing to offer you. Nothing but, like, an open ear for your memories or open arms for your nightmares. Nothing but shared memories, which I know are only a fraction of what you’ve been through. That’s not how friendship works, Stevie, that’s not what will be enough in the long run.”
He sighs, rounding Steve until he’s in front of him, but Steve’s looking down at the pavement.
“I want to be your friend, Stevie. But I have this gnawing feeling that that ship has sailed.”
Steve shakes his head when Eddie is done. Says something he can’t quite catch.
“What was that?” Eddie asks, his voice tender, his eyes watery, his breath heaving. He hates being so vulnerable, but he hates even more the thought that Steve would just leave and think Eddie never cared for him.
“You make me dinner,” Steve says then.
He sniffles. Reaches for Eddie’s hand until he seems to think better of it. Eddie feels the emptiness, the cold air on his skin, and longs to be brave enough to take Steve’s hand now. He isn’t. But he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time.
“You make me dinner and let me sleep in your bed. You make me smile and when I’m at work, I think about you sometimes, just to think nice thoughts. I don’t… There’s nothing you have to do, Eddie. You don’t have to do or be anything to be my friend. And I don’t want you around me just because you know what it’s like to drift off in your head, or just because you don’t question it when I can’t talk. I want you around because you make me laugh and you make me happy and if I could get paid for spending my days with you and with Robin, I would do nothing else in life. Because you, Eddie Munson, are good. And you’re enough. You’re a dork and a nerd and a fucking menace, and you’re kind and good with the kids and you’re a great friend. A great friend, Eddie, fuck!”
Steve is crying, but that’s okay because so is Eddie. Sincerity is scary, scarier than facing down the demo-bats, scarier than telling Wayne he’s queer, scarier than just about anything he’s ever done. But it also allows him to take Steve’s hand and pull him against his chest.
It makes him laugh when Steve sounds so frustrated when he says, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
It makes him pull back and wipe away the tears from Steve’s cheeks, ignoring the ones on his own.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.”
He hums in surprise when that makes Steve lean in again, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck.
“I’m… I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Steve’s hair.
“‘S okay,” Steve says. “That was, uh, a lot.”
Eddie laughs, feeling light and elated and a little hazy, the words still catching up with him, his limbs tingling with sensation just thinking about Steve thinking about him at work.
It does nothing to dissuade him from yearning and aching and longing to brush a kiss to Steve’s hair that is so close to him now. His hand comes up to the back of Steve’s neck, and the world slows down. Steve’s breath hitches, and Eddie’s heart jumps.
“I’m… I’m gonna say something, too, okay? Gonna try, at least. Stop me whenever, okay?”
Steve doesn’t react, but his hands begin to move in slow, minute movements along Eddie’s back. It gives him courage. Makes him dream.
He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. “I make you dinner because I like to take care of you. I let you sleep in my bed because… because it’s gonna smell like you. I like the way you smell. I make you smile because that makes me stupidly happy. Stupid, really. You make me a little stupid sometimes, Stevie. Because I want to be your friend more than anything in the world, but lately I also… I wanna climb into bed with you and hold you even when there’s not a nightmare. Just to hold you. I wanna tuck that rebellious strand of hair behind your ear just to touch you. I wanna touch you all the time, Steve. It’s a little crazy. Drives me crazy.“
He sighs and goes for the kill because they’re in too deep now, he can’t stop. Steve knows anyway, Eddie is sure, but he wants Steve to hear, too. He wants to say it. Wants to make it real.
“I wanna kiss you,” he breathes, and it’s too real for even the night to disguise it later. “All the time. And you should know that. You should know that maybe we can’t be friends after all.“
The words leave his mouth and he’s ready for Steve to push him away, to let him down gently with regret in his face and repeat his words from earlier, let go and go home like that would solve Eddie’s predicament.
But Steve doesn’t move from the tight embrace. Or, the doesn’t move away.
His hands on Eddie‘s back begin to wander more, leaving goosebumps along the way from his shoulder blades to his hips. His face where it’s tucked against Eddie‘s neck turns slightly until his nose connects with his collarbone. Steve straightens and his nose is replaced by his lips, connecting with Eddie‘s throat, his neck, his jaw.
And then Steve pulls back. Looks at Eddie with hooded eyes, hands moving from his shoulders to his jaw. Cradling Eddie‘s face like he’s something precious.
Eddie is holding his breath, tracking Steve’s every motion, not daring to move or even breathe too deeply lest he scares him off, breaks the spell, bursts the bubble.
Steve swallows and looks down at Eddie‘s lips. “What if I told you that I wanna kiss you all the time, too?”
“Then I would call you crazy.”
Steve smiles and leans in to rest his forehead against Eddie’s, breathing into the night, “Call me crazy, then.”
“You’re crazy.”
It’s the last thing Eddie says for a while before he tilts his head forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. Steve hums and smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth to let Eddie in deeper, holding him so close there’s no room for doubts or regrets.
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calicoheartz · 2 months
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Paige x fem!wbbp reader.
Paige and the reader have been playing together since high school. What's the chance they both commit to the same uni? 👀
(Can I request to be 🦢 annon?)
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A Pretty Perfect Match ; Paige Bueckers ››
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꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !!! :)
wc ; 1.4k
— warnings | lots of romantic tension & fluff , friends to lovers
my master list ㇀♡
1) omg yes of course you can be 🦢 anon ! It makes me so happy I’m finally getting anons like this! yay!
a/n : I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be romantic anon , so I did some hints and implied romantic attraction throughout the story. Enjoy ! ◡̈
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Paige leaned against the worn wooden bleachers, with her gaze being focused on the basketball court below. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the vinyl floor, the thud of the ball, the cheers from the crowd – it all felt like home to her. After all, she had spent hours on that court, pouring her entire heart and soul into the game. 
Beside her, stood her longtime friend and teammate, your presence bringing a comforting and warm energy into the busy and chaotic environment. 
You both had been inseparable since the beginning of freshman year, with your strong love for the game bringing you both closer together. With your bond forged by victories, defeats, laughs and tears, and Paige couldn't imagine her life without you by her side.
As the final buzzer rang, signaling the end of the game, you and Paige exchanged a tired but content smile. Your team had won, as it always did when the two of you played together. But tonight was different, as it marked the end of an era. An era that had lasted since they were 14, that was now the end of a chapter, as they embarked on a new change to their lives.
As the two of you walked off the court together and into the locker room, Paige decided the break the silence by saying, “So, have you decided where you're going to college yet?", her voice tinged with excitement and apprehension.
You shrugged, a thoughtful expression gracing your face, “i'm still weighing my options. What about you?”
Paige hesitated, her mind racing with possibilities. She had received offers from several universities, each promising the chance to continue her basketball career at the collegiate level. But there was one school that stood out above the rest—a school that offered not only a top-tier basketball program, but also the opportunity to hopefully study alongside you.
Unbeknownst to you, Paige had always seen you differently, you were definitely one of her best friends, but her feelings manifested into something different, something she didn't feel towards the rest of her friends. She never knew exactly how to get her feelings across to you, as it was quite apparent that your love and commitment to basketball was above every other aspect in your life. But little did she know, that you yourself also felt the same way she did, also dealing with the unprecedented issue on how to admit her newfound feelings to the blonde. 
"I think I've made up my mind," Paige said finally, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm going to commit to UConn.” your eyes widened in surprise to her sudden statement,  with a small smirk spreading across your face, “Wait for real? That's where I was planning on going! I was just scared to commit since I wasn't sure if any of my other friends were going.”
Paige's heart soared at the news, relief flooding through her. She couldn't imagine navigating the challenges of college without her closest friend by her side. Together, they had conquered high school basketball, and now they would take on the next chapter of their lives together as well.
As they made their way out of the locker room, Paige couldn't shake the feeling of excitement coursing through her veins. The prospect of attending UConn with you by her side, filled her with a sense of anticipation unlike anything she had ever experienced before. For the first time in her life, she felt truly ready to take on whatever the future held.
Over the next following months, you and Paige had become immersed into your applications and studies, spending long hours honing your skills on the court, preparing yourselves for the challenges that lay ahead of you. So it was not surprising that when the acceptance letters finally came in, you celebrated with one another, knowing that your dreams were finally within reach. 
As your white manicured nails gripped around the now empty can of whiteclaw, you couldnt help but wonder about your future with Paige. Yeah you two were going to the same school, but could you really continue hiding your feelings from her? I mean eventually she was bound to find out, what would you even do when in time she got a girlfriend? 
Paige could tell you were stressed, as she took your face into her hands and cupped your cheeks, something she often did, but this time it seemed different. “Don't be stressed”, she said, with a hint of alcohol lingering in her voice. “It's all gonna be okay, we finally did it. It's only uphill from here.” You smiled at her remark, slowly beginning to lean closer to her. Her eyes made their way onto your lips, as she gave you that look. You quickly leaned away, breaking your eye contact. You laughed slightly, chucking up your actions to the alcohol, and got up from your chair. “I should head home” you stated, immediately regretting opting out of the possibility of kissing your longtime best friend. Before the blonde could respond, you were already on your way, walking back towards the direction of your house. 
As the summer drew to a close and the start of college loomed on the horizon, you and Paige found yourselves filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. But ever since that day, the blonde knew she had to come clean about her feelings, as you two would be playing side by side at UConn for the next 4 years. But still, a weight of anxiety weighed itself onto Paige's shoulders, she knew she had to tell you. There was no way she could avoid it for any longer, or procrastinate even further. 
She made her way over to your house, knocking at your door slightly, when you opened it your gaze was surprised but loving, not expecting to find the 6 '0 girl on your doorstep. 
She soon broke the silence, mumbling a “Sorry for coming without notice, I just needed to see you.” you nodded slightly, opening the door further as an invitation for the blonde to let herself in, before making your way to your bedroom. 
You sat on your bed, your eyes avoiding Paige’s gaze, not really sure what to say, let alone what the blonde needed to discuss. Paige made her way towards you, plopping on the space right beside you before facing you, starting off with a “Look, I know we've been friends for freshman year, but I need to be honest with you y/n.” You furrowed your brows slightly, giving her a confused look in reply. She continued slowly… “I like you y/n, like like, not like a friend, but- fuck. I don't even know what to say, I completely understand if you don't feel the same way but please just hear-” you couldn't even let the blonde finish her sentence before placing a passionate kiss on her lips, one that only lasted a few seconds but felt like an entire lifetime had passed. 
It felt as if fireworks were going off inside your head, as all your worries melted away as you yourself melted into the kiss. You soon pulled away, before whispering “that's my answer, P.”
Since that day, your relationship blossomed day by day as you prepared for the sudden switch in your lives, navigating the first year of college together.
Over the next four years, you and Paige forged a path through college unlike any other. You studied together, laughed together, and yes, even argued from time to time. But through it all, your  bond remained unbreakable, a constant source of strength and support in a world that was constantly changing.
And on the basketball court, you both were unstoppable. With Paige's skill and your determination, you both led UConn to victory after victory, cementing your places in the annals of college basketball history. 
As graduation day approached, you both were filled with a mix of emotions. Of course you were sad to say goodbye to the place that had been your home for the past four years, but you both were also excited to see what the future held for your relationship.
 As you stood on stage together, your hands intertwined and your diplomas in hand, you knew that no matter where life took you,  you both would always be there for each other, ready to face whatever challenges came your way.
As they stepped out into the world beyond the walls of UConn, you and Paige knew that your journey was far from over. You were now ready to take on whatever the future held, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could accomplish anything.
omggggggg this was so cute wtf !!!! I LOVED writing this and hope I can write more stuff like this in the future (most likely will ngl) as always tysm for reading !!
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